"Look at this, LT! Ishmael!" Krysaos seethed, "This... this place! We should all be wealthy men!"
Tycondrius sighed. It seemed the real reason for the Captain's frustration stemmed from his greed.
Ishmael tilted his head and gestured for the Captain to continue.
Krysaos gnashed his teeth in frustration, "All these ships belong to pirates and merchants from all across the twelve seas!"
He kicked the lockbox away, toppling it and spilling its contents. Sea-decayed clothing, rusted and chipped weaponry, brittle coins, and dull gems that had lost their luster-- everything scattered on the deck was worthless.
"There's NNNNOTHING!!" Krysaos shouted, "It's all ROTTED and RUSTED to OBLIVION!!"
"It's quite natural," Tycon nodded... then shook his head, "Or unnatural, as it were-- but logical. The island is shrouded in death energy similar to the Jade Rabbit. As such, items decay at a faster rate in this place."
