Quentin eventually opted to extinguish his torch temporarily. Using it as light to read by, while also trying to read, while also ensuring it didn't get close to the pages so that the heat didn't accidentally start a fire proving to be a bit too much of a juggling act. Plus, it occurred to him that while there were merits to them each having their own light source it was hard to say how long they would be down there so having one in reserve might be an idea.

Flipping to the last few pages of the log he finds them blank, flipping backwards until he comes to the last few entries. "I see." He says thoughtfully. "It appears as though our Captain Delancy might have been a scallywag, but he was a principled one. The crew picked up some sort of disease that spread through them like wildfire. Only our map maker seemed to be spared and he was sent away while the rest of the crew remained in quarantine. They couldn't send for official help... Lord, this is ghastly." He says as he reads on.

Captain Delancy apparently had experience with plague from his time with the navy, before he'd turned to piracy and he'd followed proper procedure. But even with the mapmaker sending supplies down through the chute regularly, the crew hadn't improved and eventually only the captain had been left. Sick and dying, he'd written his last will and testament before weighing himself down and throwing himself into the cove to die, well not at sea, but in seawater and apparently, that was the way he'd chosen to go.

"Makes sense why our mapmaker didn't immediately return, he knew that if he did so too soon there was a chance the plague would still remain." After nearly a century it was doubtful that even it had survived.