Spellwright’s Note

I don’t have much time. Two weeks ago, I was a Telvanni Spellwright. The wizard I served was on sabbatical in High Isle and we were returning by ship to our home in Ald Isra. A day into the journey, the ship had sprung a leak. As the crew began patching it, a barnacled claw punched through the leak, followed by dozens more. Hadolids had begun assaulting the ship. I hit the sea creatures with every spell I could muster, but to no avail. For each one I killed, another rose from the sea. The crabfolk killed everyone, but they let me live. Threw me in a cage on a floating raft, pulled by pangrits. For days I

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