It was becoming rather obvious, the noticable addition of elaborately-knotted Masters and their minions that were found about the Sea Hall in Ista. Granted, they take up a lot of room, often are found to be talking loud and elaborating on stories that often began with: 'The one that got away...' and 'It was black as pitch...'

And leading the charge is Master Sanderson himself. Having taken to using his walking cane to poke undiscriminately at crafter or resident, such prods are often followed by his wavering voice and declarations of mutiny, bemoaning the state of his craft in this heathen and misbegotten rock, and the utter and complete fall of competance from the local apprentices all the way up the heirarchy to that old wench of a hall crafthead. Of course, in far less pleasant terms.

Seacrafter, Dolphincrafter, and resident alike are not immune to the old Master's wrath. Woe be to the ones that get on the business end of his cane.