With silver, ruby-ended rod, depart
From isle of whales that is your childhood home.
This close community of which you're part
Shall wave farewell when you decide to roam.
Your hunt for absent father never ends,
From stormy ships to continents unknown.
The strangers that you meet become your friends;
You're far from family but not alone.
The paths you take, they lead to souvenirs
But also come with heavy price to pay.
Your arms rebreak and aura disappears —
Some wounds will heal, but other scars will stay.
A hunter's road is paved with blood and gold,
But tickets to return are always sold.