I haven't much time to write to you, my darling wife. The captain is in a terrible rage, I can hear him screaming on the deck about filching maggots all the way down here in the hold.

It seems we have a thief among the crew, for someone has stolen one of the captain's swords. Not just any sword, but one that is capable of killing the dreaded beastie the captain calls a pet. It only makes sense that he should be able to slay the thing, but what kind of cursed blade must it be if it is so powerful it can kill that monster? I would be loathe to ever be on the wrong end of such a sword.

I do not know who would be mad enough to steal from the captain when the punishment would  surely be a fate worse than dying. Life on this ship is already worse than a sentence to the inferno. Yet I have my suspicions who might have taken it. Our navigator requested he be granted shore leave when we last made berth at the foul island where this ship makes port and he has not been seen since.

But enough of such vile talk my love. I pray that this long-suffering curse be lifted from me soon and my impressment here will be ended, that I might by the grace of good fortune hold you and our children once more. I long to be free of this wretched ship and her godforsaken crew. Before it is too late. Already I show symptoms of the affliction that has befallen the rest of the crew.

Keep well and hold on to hope. I wish that I might clasp your hands and know the curve of your smile once more.


I remain forever your loyal husband,