About a month ago, we came across an interesting bit of Pirate folklore: the story of Dread Pirate Robert "Ironchest" Bloom. While some insist his nickname is simply a reference to Bloom's demeanor, most agree he earned the name Ironchest for his seemingly impervious frame. It is reported that he took no less than three bullets, and was stabbed at least nine times prior to his death (a drowning) in 1726.

Bloom roamed the high seas during the so-called Golden Age of piracy, beginning his career in the late 17th century and spilling over into the early 18th century. His extensive travels were unmatched by the vast majority of his peers - some say he had seen all seven continents. Bloom himself claimed capture of "countless" ships in his personal journals, and "Prizes Riche enough to Make even Kings jealous." While his exploits were purely illegal, Bloom was arguably a very respectable pirate: he always flew the black flag, was known to be generous with his prizes, and was widely regarded as quite worldly and intelligent.

More interesting than the account of Bloom's life is the story of his legacy. Ironchest led the life of a pirate to its fullest, an on-the-run existence that meant few things constant. Bloom had only a handful of possessions -- and even fewer that he cared about -- but was extraordinarily attached to an old silver cup. Those who knew him pronounced that he was never seen without it, "any Drink serv'd in a Vessel othr than His Cup might well have been Poison for the way he carry'd on." Towards the end of his life, Bloom was nothing short of superstitious, convinced his ability to evade death was wholly due to his possession of the cup. Some whispered of an inscription, and a "spell" of sorts placed on the cup, but no written record of the details exists.

Rumor has it the "magick" cup made it to shore after Ironchest's death at sea. It seems Bloom, deeply concerned the cup would land "in the wrong hands," had given a trusted crewmember detailed instructions for burying it. Its current whereabouts, however, are unknown.

The story of Bloom, in entirety, was penned by an aging Dr. William Freeman, after dedicating much of his spare time over the last decade searching for the cup. Unable to pass up the opportunity to try our hands at a real-life treasure hunt, we decided, at this point, to go straight to the source of the legend: Freeman himself. Our call to his office was met only with his answering machine.

A few weeks went by, and we hadn't heard anything. We had to try Freeman again. This time, though, we found that the office phone line we had called before had been disconnected. A short search yielded his home phone number, and we called immediately.

A woman answered and we were met with a rather uncomfortable silence when we asked to speak to Dr. Freeman. The woman identified herself as Eve Freeman, Dr. Freeman's widow, explaining that her husband had passed away just a week earlier. She asked why we were calling, and we recounted the chain of events that led us to her late husband. Eve was in the process of sorting through his belongings and offered to take our names and addresses - if she found anything that might be of interest, she would mail it.

Here, we caught a break. Yesterday, we received an envelope. Inside, a brief message from Eve and several bits of torn paper. The note read as follows: "I found these pressed in one of William's old books. I hope you can make some sense of it all. If I find anything else, I'll send it your way"

We'll share the pieces with you within the next few days... as soon as we scan them.