Bay of Claws

Spiky spires and shallows of the Bay of Claws by iStockPhoto.com\Jorge Fuentes Quero

What a dispassionate piece of nonsense! If you come through the Bay of Claws on the way to Etonia, it speaks of so much more than those pitiful sentences above, written by some scribe far to the South. The spray from the tides hitting the rocky spires makes a constant mist. Between the echoing crashes, the rocks hum in defiance of the water. Great elemental forces dance and sing as you try to pass without getting crushed. Only a skilled crew can navigate the tangle of narrow passages. Many sleepless nights and sacrifices await those sailing for the dock by Etonia.

In the East, three great rivers rush into the bay through the lower Anhult Woodlands. Along the Northern edge of the bay, waterfalls dive off cliffs into the misty waters. A thin but tall ridgeline forms the bay's southern border and leads out to the City of Coral Gate. Swarms of fish, particularly the prized Etonian Salmon, fill the bay. The enormous output of water is driven by heavy spring rains, raised from storms funneled into the bay. This keeps the salinity of the water low and makes the area around Etonia a large estuary- a perfect spawning ground for the Salmon.

But my writing is getting distracted by the bay's beauty. Did you experience the nightmares on your push through the bay? The mist bears many dangers. First, the Orcas have been known to pluck a daydreaming sailor off a ship's deck. Then those without an iron will risk a sea-sickness of sorts. They begin as nightmares but return night after night, eventually haunting you even during the day. Travelers and sailors not tied down after this point will disappear - diving into the waters to join the bay. You better hope your navigator doesn't succumb first because then the sharp spires and rocks will finish off the entire crew.

But before you give up hope, the danger is just nature's test. It allows only those with genuine intentions and bravery into Etonia and the forest beyond. The rest are turned back or swallowed. Welcome to the Anhult Wildlands.

~Avast

Additional short stories and poetry about The Bay of Claws: