The Vistani turn up where you least expect them and always want what you can least afford. They're never to be trusted, always spouting lies and stealing your gold. There's a good reason why I won't let any gypsy on my ship, and if you listen, I'll tell you why.
I once heard of a sea captain named Bartley from Port-a-Lucine, a rather pitiable sort, who went into a Vistana's tarokka booth for a reading. Down on his luck for the past year, he wanted to know what cargo he should take on his next trip to Leudendorf, so that he would make his fortune and retire.
Now the old woman looked at him and said, "Life has not treated you well, I can see, but your luck is about to change for the best. I will tell you what cargo to carry, but you must do what I ask when you arrive at your destination." Captain Bartley was so desperate that he agreed to her strange request, so long as the Vistana would prophesy for him. And the old woman took out her cards, and laid them on the table. She told him to fill his ship with timber.
So Bartley did what he was told, and sailed to Leudendorf with a hold full of seasoned pine. When he arrived, he learned that there had been a terrible fire in the city. Many houses had burned to the ground, and there was not enough wood to rebuild. Bartley's ship was the first to bring in a full supply of timber, so he made an incredible fortune. One foggy night, just after he sold the last of his timber, Bartley heard a knock on his cabin door while the ship lay in port. When he opened it, there he saw the same grim-faced Vistana from Port-a-Lucine.
She fixed him with her evil eye, and said, "You have made your fortune, now you must do as I say. Give up the sea forever, and never set another foot aboard this or any other ship. If you agree, you may keep what you have earned, but if not, you will lose everything."
Captain Bartley was not all pleased by the Vistana's curse, but before he could argue with her, she stepped back into the foggy night and was swallowed by the mists. Barley searched the entire ship, but found no one besides his startled crew.
I'll be the first to admit that sailors can be very superstitious. Some of the crew heard the curse of the Vistana. Barley was already known as an unlucky captain and many of his crew left him. A few figured that Bartley's luck had changed for good and decided to sail again. For you see, to ground a true sailor is to kill him, regardless of his wealth or luck.
So, despite the curse, unlucky Bartley decided to sail back to Port-a-Lucine, though most of his sailors had deserted him. As he approached Port-a-Lucine, a terrible storm descended on his ship. The rain fell in blinding sheets and the swells were higher than the tallest mast. Bartley lashed himself to the tiller and screamed out his defiance against the Vistani into the dark howling winds.
It was then that the ship started coming apart. All over the decks, the tiny nails started squirming out of the wood, like squeaking little iron worms, and once a plank was free, it went hurling up into the night and the screeching gale. Frantic men ran about, tying themselves down to anything that would float, but Bartley stood fast by the helm, still screaming into the wind, oblivious to his approaching doom.
In the morning, pieces of the wreckage washed up on shore with the lucky crew, who all somehow survived the black maelstrom. But poor Bartley, he was never seen again. In the storms that wrack the Sea of Sorrows, sailors sometimes hear demented screams above the howling winds, and they say it's the Cursed Captain, still raging against the Vistani. Now that I can't attest, for I am only a river boat master, but I will still never let a gypsy board my beloved ship.
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