They must have cried out, but no sound escaped the swirling black waters.
At the witching hour, the anchor pulled with preternatural force, dragging craft and crew down into the depths.
While the greedy dogs slept off their revelry, I hexed their anchor with every twisted incantation I could muster, imbuing it with the weight of my ambition and my contempt for their crude extortion. Such resources had long been exhausted, of course, and so I prepared an alternative payment. Predictably, they increased their tariffs to counter my intense stipulations of secrecy. I employed a crew of particularly unsavory mariners, who for a time sailed the four corners at my behest, retrieving many valuable artifacts, relics and rare texts. A sheltered jetty was accessible by a narrow stone stair off the back of the manor, and a discreet system of pulleys could hoist even the heaviest prizes up the rock face from a securely tied dinghy below.
Prying eyes had become a nuisance along the old road, and so I undertook to receive my most curious deliveries by way of marine shipments.
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