Captain’s Log: April 15th, 1681 Finally, we’ve cast off from Cape Verde. The Dutchman sails heavy, her hold laden with precious cargo bound for the Americas. Officially, we are transporting goods—salt, ivory, textiles—but only fools would take those words at face value. The true cargo, locked securely in the lower hold, is something far more…
In the marshy delta where the Schelde River surrenders to the North Sea, there once lay a realm of prosperity: Saeftinghe. A jewel of the Lowlands, this region boasted lush green fields that stretched endlessly, filled with windmills and canals. Its towns buzzed with trade, their markets laden with goods from faraway lands. Ships carrying…
The Schelde River lay shrouded in a thick, suffocating mist, a gray veil that seemed to choke not just the light of dawn but the very hope of Antwerp’s people. Each ripple of the water carried whispers of despair, the echoes of cries from sailors who had paid Antigoon’s merciless tolls with gold—or worse, with…
In the eerie quiet of the Schelde, the small vessel glided almost silently. Its crew was tense and vigilant. The river, usually bustling with activity, was shrouded in a thick fog that seemed to mute even the sound of the water lapping against the boat’s sides. Godric, a seasoned sailor with years of experience on…