for nearly forty years, the sea had only one true master: The Trident.

She haunted the shipping lanes, a ship helmed by a Captain whose name was spoken only in fearful whispers. He and his crew were less men than they were a force of nature, taking what they willed and leaving only wreckage behind.

The Trident herself was a marvel. But her soul, her terrible voice, was her three long cannons.

It was said their report was a judgement, a thunder that echoed for miles, not just across the waves,
but beneath them.
The ocean floor became a graveyard of those who heard that sound.
So much so that the sea itself grew weary. The endless, prideful booming was an insult

to the ancient silence of the abyss.
And in that dark, something was listening.

A primal anger.
The Kraken.

The cannons, the Captain's greatest weapon, had become a curse.
The Kraken chased their echoes across the globe.
It finally cornered The Trident in the eye of a hellish typhoon,
and in a battle that boiled the very sea, the beast wrapped the ship in its arms. It dragged the ship, the crew and their Captain down.

Down, down, down...to its lair.

You are now entering that lair. Welcome to The Fallen Trident.
Have a drink. Make a toast.
...but a word of warning: In the deep, every loud noise sounds like a cannon's roar. 
And the Kraken is always listening