{"ops":[{"insert":"They say the sea beyond Urborg is not blue, but black — thick as ink and twice as cold. No map dares mark it, and no sailor who’s crossed it has returned unchanged.\n\nSome whisper of a fleet that sails those waters — not upon the tides, but "},{"attributes":{"italic":true},"insert":"through"},{"insert":" them. They call it "},{"attributes":{"bold":true},"insert":"the Blackwake"},{"insert":", for the water behind it boils like ink and stinks of the grave.\n\nOnce, a band of pirates sought their fortune there, believing the treasures of the black sea to be greater than any known to man. Their fleet, drunk on plunder and superstition, came upon an island rising from the depths like a rotted tooth. Beneath the mire, they found "},{"attributes":{"bold":true},"insert":"The Grim Captain’s Locker"},{"insert":" and a throne carved from the bones of leviathans. They thought it treasure. They thought it fortune.\nWhen they pried open the Locker, "},{"attributes":{"italic":true},"insert":"something"},{"insert":" awoke. The air turned to ash, and their eyes clouded with the sea’s own curse. From the darkness of the throne came a voice — hollow, patient, and cruel — the voice of "},{"attributes":{"bold":true},"insert":"The Grim Captain"},{"insert":" himself.\n\nBound by his will, the pirates became his eternal crew. Their chains were unseen, their souls tethered to the black tides. His commands came not from the throne but from a single survivor of the old world — "},{"attributes":{"bold":true},"insert":"Francisco, Fowl Marauder"},{"insert":", a parrot whose eyes gleamed with unnatural light. It speaks his orders still, in a tongue of storm and salt.\n\nNow, the Blackwake sails once more across the endless night sea. Its decks swarm with rats, its sails stitched from shrouds, and its cannons fire gold and bone alike.\n\nWherever it goes, ports burn and graves empty. The cursed fleet gathers riches not for glory nor greed, but for the Grim Captain’s unseen purpose. Every coin, every corpse, and every soul taken at sea is carried below deck — down, down, into the Locker — until the ocean itself is paid in full.\n\n"},{"attributes":{"bold":true},"insert":"Beware the parrot’s cry upon the horizon. It means the Blackwake is coming."},{"insert":"\n"}]}