Captain's Blog, February 1717

What is this strange place? Why has my crew marooned me here with only a musket and a fishhook? Will I ever see The village of French Lick again? 

Day 8. Still no sign of other humans. Wasted only bullet on hallucination of reindeer. Diet of salt water, cactus leaves, and conch. Grasp of reality growing more and more tenuous. Slowly slipping into madness.


Day 12... Still no sign of other humans... keeping company with a strange dragon-like creature. Hallucinations persisting. If no food soon, may have to resort to eating my new friend.



Day 14... A skull washed up on shore... Alas poor Yorick... I knew him... He hath borne me on his back a thousand times...


Day 16. "Rescued". Was taken in a flying ship to the land of Puerto Rico, and quarantined in a structure with unnatural looking inns that have names like Cinnabon and Margaritaville. I am more terrified than I was after being marooned on that island. They are warning me of an impending journey to a strange place called Texas and then on to Nashborough.