Enforced by humid gales and convective waves, the strait of the Mystery Coast is a glinting gem, mirage, and great conjunction.

Slashing through waters as the mighty easterlies, the MC evinces a sovereign ecology canonized in the souls of those driven to madness by her allure.

Natural processes live and die here as they are intended to. Piracy of substance – be it mineral, man, or state of matter – had no hearth until a king and captive dreamt it into being.

The portal to riches would only be reached through an adder's ladder, beckoning bullion and bloodshed. When you are near enough to spot her capitals – a checkered globe and octagram – the weary journeyman knows they will soon rest.

Exploration is nearly complete.