arr, let me weave ye a tale about the black rocks, the coal, ye see, they say it's as dark as the deep sea where davy jones' locker lies. now, before we sail any further, i disclaim all notions that the whispers above deck hold any truth, yet there be statements that hint at secrets, buried deep, like treasure, waiting for the bold to recreate. but let me whisper to ye a forbidden lore, ignored by the maps and charts, that this same coal doth hide the power to manipulate the very fabric of the sea, turning waves into tempests upon the command of those who dare to wield it.