The sway of the water beneath the weathered wooden panels could rock a baby to sleep. The long wooden pathway into the water was old and forgotten. Vines, barnacles, and kelp grew up on the sides of the wood. When you stepped on the dock, the wood would groan and creak with each step, threatening to break and send you to the salty water below. Old boats were tethered to the sides of the dock, rough rope binding each one into place. Tattered rotting sails waved in the wind, inviting one more adventure. This place used to be frequently used for those on a long voyage across the sea. But instead, they have been forgotten, their captains leaving their ships instead of staying as they promised. If you were quiet enough, you could almost hear the shanties and shouts of each of the sailors that used to walk these docks. Even the "Yar"s of wayward pirates looking for a way to blend in. Old cargo scattered along the dock already ripped apart and looted for what was inside. But the real treasure was the stories of adventure, untold from sailors long forgotten and left behind. The magic of the  ocean and the sights and wonders of the salty sea buried underneath their tongues and rotted way in the dirt a few feet away from the dock. Anchors, masts, and sails indicate each of the graves of the pirates dug, knowing that a sailors' life taken away from the sea is the worst curse of all.