The nameless river widens into a broad, still lake, its waters unnaturally calm and serene. A muddy shoal reaches hundreds of feet out from the shore, and there, run aground upon the mire, lies a long, low ore barge — a relic of the cult of Baphomet's grim traffic in Nahyndrian crystals.

The vessel is a somber thing: a wide cargo hatch yawns amidships, a lonely pilothouse offers the captain his privacy, and a great capstan at the bow trails a heavy chain down into the black water. Once it hauled poison and plunder upriver; now it sits abandoned to the wilds, guarded by the restless dead who will not let the living pass.

Yet this derelict holds promise as well as peril. To claim the barge is to seize the river itself — a hidden road into the island's poisoned heart, and perhaps, cloaked in the guise of the dead, a way to slip past the enemy's watch. Clear its haunted decks, and the path to Baphomet's mine opens before you.