All Hands on Deck
It’s crunch time, mateys. All the flags are flying in a stiff breeze, sails bound for the edge of the known world. Telescopes extended, radars whirling, pigeons sent carrying messages afar. Landlubbers lament their muddy stasis, while we adventurers seek promised lands of our own discovery.
Who knows where these ships will land, or when? For now we watch…