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"Sometimes, you'll go all day without so much as a nibble." An older, Purple Krawk sits hunched over the dark waters. In his well-worn claws, a frail rod dangles above the lake as a bobber floats atop the vortex. His shipwreck shorts and fishing vest seemed to be covered in so much sand and salt it makes one wonder how many days, weeks or maybe even years the Krawk has been venturing out to Ye Olde Fishing Vortex...