In the perennial fogs of the Wrecked Sea, a lonely figure approaches the burial place of a long hidden treasure. On a grassy small promontory, the fruit of much bloodshed rests quietly underneath the base of a mold-covered stone pillar.

The air is moist and filled with sea scents, the dull sound of the waves crashing on the rocks combined with the screeching of the sea birds is the only thing that disturbs the almost eerily stillness.

A pale sun filters from the clouds, dispelling the thick fog and revealing a shadowy and dark silhouette slowly approaching...