Off the Edge of the Map
Off the Edge of the Map, by the Cursed Captain.
Ol' Warty Wilkins has been at sea for longer'n I've been alive, and even he swears he's never seen anythin' like the storm we sailed through tonight. The wind must've whipped it up out of nowhere! Strange green flashes o' lightning, an' great rolls o' thunder that sounded almost like words. We're past the squall now, though I'll not be content 'til we've cleared this wretched fog so we can sight land at last, an' get some badly-needed provisions. Funny thing, though. I've not felt hungry fer days, not since the last o' me hair fell out. Guess there's no point foolin' myself any longer. We've all heard tell of pirate curses! Still, so what if that jewel has started t' change me? If I'm to be turned into a skeleton, then I'll be the richest skeleton that ever sailed the seven seas! HAH!