
MarTen might have been good at riding a MarPony, but he sure wasn't great at sailing.
One turn away from Marbit Island, and the bad weather struck. Some of the wild popped Marbits had tried to warn him about the sudden storms from the South, but MarTen hadn't listened. He'd even ordered one of the Marbits to be silent.
The Storm was bad. Wild winds, terrifying lightning, and waves as big as seventeen Marbits standing on each other's heads. The Marbits. Not the Waves.
The fleet was scattered over dozens of hexes, and the flagship, "The Prince of Mars", was wrecked upon a hidden reef.
Most of the Marbits dwowned. Many more perished from the extreme cold. But a few - just a few of the wild popped Marbits clung to the wreckage and washed ashore on a barren rock.
There are no Commanders to give the orders, but these Marbits have been here before. Well, not here. This place is very different to the last Island. This is, to all intents and purposes, the Far Side of the World...

