This was written a while ago, and I haven't found a use for it ingame. Since it is more of a flavor-piece anyway I'm posting it here.
After the storm had led us south for a week, we lost all wind north of the Broken Coast. A current has been leading us westward the last 23 days. We have been rationing ever since the storm ended, but we have little left to drink. The captain was injured in the storm, and has not awoken since. The ship is gathering floating banks of seaweed, and the crew are too exhausted to keep us clear if we are delivered wind should come. We are all feeling like there is a dark shadow beneeth our keel. Some of the men have lost their mind and started drinking seawater. This night I had to kill the sekundmann. He had entered the captain's cabin and cut his the captain's eyes out. I fear that we will never return from this and so I write this in hope that it will reach someone so that our loved ones can learn what became of us. I have done as my father taught me and so I place all my hope in that this bottle can reach some civilized land.The gods are all dead.
Pray for our souls for we are all lost.
12th of Septimus this Year of Enlightenment 876
~Hieronimus Boch, erstmann of the good ship Swendemann, owned by the brothers Vandelaar of Raedehafen~
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