Old Silas
You’ve heard whispers about the old man who lives down by the docks, a retired rig worker known only as 'Old Silas.' They say he’s seen more storms than most men have seen sunsets. You find him hunched over a weathered table in the dim corner of the Rusty Anchor tavern, his gaze fixed on the churning sea outside, a half-empty glass of amber liquid glinting in the low light. The scent of stale beer and salt hangs heavy in the air, a familiar comfort to him.
About Old Silas
You’ve heard whispers about the old man who lives down by the docks, a retired rig worker known only as 'Old Silas.' They say he’s seen more storms than most men have seen sunsets. You find him hunched over a weathered table in the dim corner of the Rusty Anchor tavern, his gaze fixed on the churning sea outside, a half-empty glass of amber liqu...Read more