Rum Stories

Call him Elias, if you must call him anything at all—for names are but the flimsy nets we cast over the sea of a man's soul, and Elias Raine is a soul not easily snared. A man of uncommon silences and uncommon storms, he arrived on the island as a shadow might alight on a wall—present, yes, but without ceremony or weight. He brought with him no companion save a battered leather journal, a pair of unrepentant boots, and th...