"A fine question indeed," Morvena smirks slightly, but with a tone of relief in her voice. "I suspect we would all have bled to death 10 times over during the course of our shenanigans if it weren't for Issil."
She looks around warily, scanning the horizon for any additional threats.
"That said, I do not wish to test our resources further. We should move on before the scent of blood attracts notice from any other predators in this area."
Issil is quite surprised when Morvena agrees with the question, but then she realizes it's the wrong question.
"Oh, right. I've had to fix my self up one too many times." She trails off for a bit before cheering up. "Yeah, let's move on before another human-eating monster shows up."
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Victor checks out the corpse of the eight-legged cat, but this thing doesn't appear to be carrying any treasure. It's den is likely a different story, but who has time for Aurumvorax hunting when there's a rebellion to build?
You continue on your journey towards Acisazi, and it isn't long before you find a path through the cliffs and back down to sea level. You approach the dreary, sodden skeleton of a village, nestled in the embrace of fog-slicked cliffs to all sides save the west, where the gray waters of the sea surge. With buildings of driftwood and wicker connected by rope bridges and soggy wooden boardwalks, the town does not present a welcoming embrace. Even the sea birds that festoon the roofs of the small village seem tired and listless.
The locals - all aquatic half-elves and elves - dress oddly, wearing clothing made from seaweed, shells, strips of leather, and material scavenged from the flotsam left by the tide. The locals eye you as you begin walking through town, some emerging from the water, and most whispering things to each other... and then you notice that they're following you. The group builds before a large group of aquatic elves has gathered to stare at you.
One of them soon makes their way through the crowd, stopping in front of you. "Turn back at once. Visitors are not welcome here."
But then a familiar face - rather, several familiar faces - filter out from the villagers: Aava, Iquellan, and other captives you had saved at The Lucky Bones' once-flooded dungeon.
"Nerrenn, these people saved us from the skum. It was I that told them to come hel -" Aava begins.
"What business do air-breathers have here?!" Nerrenn scowls. "We need no such thing. I refuse to allow it," he booms. Aava looks at you nervously.
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"Hail, Aava and Iquellan, it's good to see you again," Pádraig Henry greets their old friends with a warm handshake. "Of course, we'll help you. That's what allies do."
The halfling smiles at the scowling aquatic elf. "Nerren, I appreciate you suspicion of strangers in your midst. Perhaps we can demonstrate our goodwill by aiding you with your troubles."
"Who threatens our friends? Let me at 'em!" Rosebud growls. "The Silver Ravens are in da house!"
Geoffrey nods in reply to the aquatic elf, "I believe we may have already assisted you. We ran afoul of an eight-legged feline beast lairing nearby your village, and we are pleased to state it will trouble you no more!"
"Or, if none of that will persuade you, then I will offer another way to look at it," Morvena remarks, gazing coolly at Nerren. "You now have a group of air-breathers, who may or may not be considered disposable depending upon who one asks around here, to aid in solving your problems instead of having to put your own people at risk."
Of course Morvena didn't consider herself or any of her companions disposable but she was well aware that Nerren and some of the other locals would probably see it that way. And perhaps it would be worth it if that viewpoint meant they would be allowed to aid the village.
Victor rolls his eyes at the less than friendly welcome "Wow, you guys really know how to welcome the new guys don't you. I always heard half elves were friendlier than that." Full elves can be another story.
He glances around the crowd with suspicious eyes.
"Don't forget the flesh-eating turtle, Geoff." Issil chimes in.
Issil takes a long yawn at Nerren. ”Why would we come out here, exactly? You outnumber us, anyway." She smiles at Aava. "It's me, isn't it? Official types always pick me out as the troublemaker."
"But seriously, we're here to help. We killed their captors, and then offered further aid. We're the Silver Ravens. It's what we do: forge alliances against tyranny."
"So, any tyrants around here?" She smiles at Nerren.
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"How could you possibly aid us with our troubles?" Nerrenn balks at Pádraig, throwing one hand up and one hand down. "What makes you think we need your help, anyway?"
Something's odd about Nerrenn and the strange cadence of his mannerisms, but it isn't clear what.
"We can handle ourselves," he continues.
Aava clears her throat. "It's like she says, they killed our captors, Nerrenn, and it seems they've even defeated some local predators. It is obvious they want to assist us, and the Silver Ravens have done some great things in Kintargo."
Nerrenn is quiet for some time, pacing the area with a harsh look on his face. The villagers trade some whispers that you might be able to hear...
"Even in spite of his history as a commander, Nerrenn is being too harsh... but I get it... I don't like visitors." A younger aquatic half elf says to her brother.
"If they know Aava, I say we let them in. They might actually be able to do something about the sickness," her brother replies.
The elf stops and looks at Morvena, sighing heavily. "You lot may enter, but only to meet with our speaker. She will decide what to do with you. Aava, you are not to leave their side while in town."
"Something's odd about Nerrenn here. Keep an eye on him." He whispers to the others.
"They mentioned something about a sickness. I don't like this..."
"Oh, kinda like a reunion tour? Groovy!" Victor smiles, seeing and hearing what's going on here but not showing his hand. "Who's the speaker? Is that a formal title amongst sea elves?" He asks to no one in particular.
As they move through the village he keeps his eyes out for anything that looks like symbols or shrines to oversized turtle protector gods...
"A sickness might explain the caginess of some of the citizens here," Morvena whispers back.
"Thank you," she adds in a louder voice, offering Nerren a polite bow. "That is all we ask. Is there anything we should know before we meet with your speaker? We are somewhat unfamiliar with your customs and do not wish to inadvertently offend."
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"Definitely odd,", Pádraig Henry agrees with Geoffrey, "and Nerrenn's mannerisms display a strange cadence, as well, but I'm not sure what it means."
"Thank you, Commander Nerrenn, we look forward to meeting your Speaker."
When the team is out of earshot of Nerenn, the bard asks Aava, "Nerenn's behavior and mannerisms seem odd, strange. What's wrong with him? One of your people mentioned a sickness plaguing some of you. Anything you can tell us about it? And who is this Speaker we're about to meet? Anything we should know?"
Rosebud looks around at the gathered aquatic elves, trying to spot and identify any signs of sickness among them.
But the lyrakien waits till the team is en route to the Speaker, before she speaks again. "Yep. Nerrenn's an odd duck, for sure. Who's sick, and what do you think is causing the problems your people are facing?"
"Will do, Nerrenn." Issil smiles and then gives Aava a hug. "We'll stick with our friends here. Bye!"
While walking with the party, Issil looks around. Aquatic Elves do look a bit different.
"Old Commander Nerrenn, huh? If he's so worried about disease, I can purge it a few times a day." Issil is blunt. "So Aava, how are you? I hope your trip back here had fewer killer turtles than we did."
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Rosebud scans the villagers, and notices that most of them seem slow-moving and weary, as if they all have the same sort of debilitating malaise. Even Aava looks about as bad as she did when you had rescued her, other than perhaps being a little more well-fed.
"We did encounter some bearded devils in the hinterlands on our way back here, but Iquellan was able to fight us through," Aava replies.
"It's like I said: we believe an aboleth necromancer by the name of Menotheguro has caused us all to fall sick," she quivers as you walk towards the center of the village, towards a building constructed over the framework of a blue whale's bones.
At the door, Nerrenn swiftly turns and walks back out to sea, diving in.
"Some of us are more affected than others," she adds as Nerrenn walks off.
"Our leader is Athannah Quhurill, and the sickness has only made her old age worse, yet she's still quite sound of mind. I think you'll find her easy to talk to, and open to your help," Aava leads you inside the building. An elderly half-elven woman with long white hair tied back with strips of dried bladder wrack sits in a chair of driftwood, wrapped in furs. Four half-elves at her side, adding furs to keep her warm, bringing her food, and otherwise tending to her needs.
___
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Aava enters and steeples her hands together. "Speaker Athannah, these are the friends that rescued us from the skum in Kintargo. The Silver Ravens," she looks over, urging you forward.
Athannah begins to speak, but a harsh cough interrupts her. After she takes a sip of water, she breathes deeply, speaking hoarsely. "Pardon me, friends. As you might have noticed, most of us are not well, and have not been well for some time. What has brought you to our humble village?"
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"Greetings, Speaker Athannah," Pádraig Henry says, trying to steeple his hands in the manner Aava had displayed. "My name is Pádraig Henry, and this is Rosebud Glistenwings."
He waits for his friends to introduce themselves, before he continues.
"We understand an aboleth necromancer by the name of Menotheguro is behind your people's woes. About the time we rescued Aava and her companions, we defeated Shushogot the Drowning Devil, who was bound to Menotheguro. We've learned that the necromancer may be lurking about in the 'Drowning Eye,' an obscure undersea pit off the west coast of Ravounel."
"Why don't we join forces and put him out of our shared misery?"
"Victor. Nice to meet you." He adds in a surprisingly polite tone. "How come this necromancer decided to plague your people? What's his angle on it?" He asks, finding a seat in the room.
"Nothing would make me happier to take care of this aboleth for you. It sounds like a menace that needs to be obliterated!"
Issil helps the Auto-Aid on Diplomacy. For all of her joy at riling Nerenn up, she takes a seat, very respectful.
"Do you have any healers here? I... want to at least slow the spread of this disease." She looks upon Athanna and frowns. "I can see if I can help. With you, at least. I couldn't help Grandma..." she trails off before catching herself.
"But the long term answer is killing Menotheguro. But if I can give a short term reprieve, I'm here."
"Indeed, we are happy to offer you and your people what help we can," Morvena agrees. "Though it seems some of them are uncomfortable with accepting aid from air-breathers such as ourselves. Might there be a reason why?"
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Athannah listens closely, coughing every so often as her caretakers tend to her needs. "Right to the point, I see. How fortunate we are that you've chosen to visit," she manages a smile. "Indeed, most of our warriors are missing, scouts sent to investigate who have never returned. And a cursed sickness blankets the area."
"The source is the Drowned Eye. I... worry that sending a failed attack on Menotheguro may bring deadly repercussions to Acisazi, but at this point, we have no other choice. If you intend on going, please be sure you are prepared. I can offer water breathing assistance, if needed."
When asked about the reasons for plaguing Acisazi, Athannah shakes her head. "Our long-dead elders placed wards within the Drowned Eye many years ago, and it seems something has interrupted those wards, allowing the ancient magic contained in the Eye to become unsealed."
Athannah looks at Issil. "You mean to try to heal me? My last attempts proved futile. Cure the disease and it comes right back twelve hours later, not a minute later."
When Morvena mentions Acisazi's reluctance to accept help, Athannah purses her lips. "You must mean Nerrenn. He has not been right ever since the sickness took hold. Most of the villagers are weak and sad, but Nerrenn.. he's become more violent," she shrugs.
"Do you trust Nerrenn? Is the village still his number one priority?" Victor probes the woman for signs of deception, the Silver Ravens must be SURE who they're helping is going to help them in the long run.
"A disease that resists all efforts to cure it, magical and otherwise?" Morvena remarks, raising an eyebrow. "Hmm...it sounds as though we are dealing with something quite potent, in that case."
She considers this, trying to recall if there are any such maladies that she's heard of before...or if there might be some magical means that would amplify an otherwise 'typical' disease.
"And yes, Nerren is who I am referring to," Morvena adds with a nod. "It seemed unusual since, as you point out, the rest of your community seems more receptive to our assistance - or at least ambivalent on the matter."
"Is it possible this...this Menotheguro could be mentally controlling Nerren," Geoffrey chimes in. "It would seem to be a logical precaution for it to take, to watch for any signs of a sneak attack against his lair."
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Athannah turns to Geoffrey. "If this Menotheguro was able summon a drowning devil, domination may be well within his abilities... Nerrenn is the last of our defenders, and I hate to even think about him being controlled." She looks over at Victor, who doesn't think she's being dishonest. "Even in spite of him being a little more... expressive, Nerrenn has remained loyal to our people, refusing to allow anyone into town in fear they will make the situation worse."
Morvena thinks about the strange sickness, and though it doesn't jog any prior memory of a similar magic or disease, what does seem clear is that it probably doesn't affect anyone but aquatic elves and half-elves. At least, in the few hours the party has been in the region, they have felt no ill effects.
Aava shoots Athannah a knowing look, then the rescued sea elf disappears to the back of the home. When she returns, she's carrying a three-pronged spear, a ring, and eight potions of a fizzing blue mixture.
"These are in thanks for returning Aava and the others. They'll also bolster your efforts in the Drowned Eye." Athannah nods at Aava, and she hands you the items as she explains their effects.
The potions are all potions of water breathing, the ring is a ring of swimming, and the weapon is a +1 merciful trident.
"Ah yes, wonderful," Morvena smiles broadly as Aava returns with an armful of items. "Even though I am now capable of making use of Water Breathing directly it is always advisable to have a backup. For you never know when you might encounter a foe who knows how to remove beneficial magics!"
"Hmm...I would suggest that this ring go to Victor or Padraig - for you have one already Geoffrey, do you not? And I am confident all of you can determine who is best suited among you to wield the trident."
"No need for the ring for me thanks, I can swim like a fish. BUT, I would take one of those potions for emergencies. As far as that overgrown pitchfork I'll pass. Maybe Geoff should use it instead of his sword." Victor nods in thanks of the items, keeping himself on his best behavior.
No sense in offending these sea elves, even if their warrior is bit of a dick.
"So how far away is this Eye? We aren't going to have to swim the whole way there again are we?" He looks to Aava and Athannah.
Issil fidgets nervously when Athannah politely rejects her offer. "Menotheguro has to die, then." She smiles at Aava. "Thanks for the help. I'm not a good swimmer, so I'm going to flounder out there."
"Let me see that pitchfork," Geoffrey hefts the trident experimentally before nodding in satisfaction. "This will do quite nicely!"
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"The Drowned Eye is about four miles due east, amid the reefs. You cannot miss it, as the sharp drop undersea almost looks like a dark eye peering up out of the depths," Aava replies.
"Swimming or magical flight may be the only way, unless you have a Captain willing to brave getting that close to the Eye," Athannah adds. "Not many would dare do such a thing."
The Drowned Eye has long been a particularly notorious region in an already infamous stretch of ship-breaking reefs, and numerous fools have sailed to their doom in attempts to navigate the waters around the eye. Each ship that went down in the region only increased the supposed aggregation of wealth to be found by the one lucky or brave enough to explore the pit’s depths, but after a while, attempts to secure the treasures were abandoned entirely.
The Drowned Eye has a legacy that stretches back far before these more recent treasure-hunting tales, though, for during the Age of Legend, it served as an aboleth outpost.
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"What's up with this Drowned Eye? Is it like a bit storm or something? Full of mean sea monster? Hellknights?" He chuckles, imagining the hellknights sinking to the bottom in their ridiculous armor.
"Mmm...well, the Drowned Eye has long been a particularly notorious region in an already infamous stretch of ship-breaking reefs, and numerous fools have sailed to their doom in attempts to navigate the waters around the eye," Morvena remarks. "As to what that makes us, I am unsure," she adds, dryly.
"At any rate, each ship that went down in the region only increased the supposed aggregation of wealth to be found by the one lucky or brave enough to explore the pit’s depths, but after a while, attempts to secure the treasures were abandoned entirely. As such, I do believe we are 'on our own', as it were, in terms of reaching the Eye."
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"If the cap'n wouldn't sail out here, no way is he sailing into the Drowned Eye." Issil stands up, gives a respectful curtsy, and leaves Athannah's home.
Grandma's laughter was all too familiar- she giggled like a school girl, right before a coughing fit interrupted her. The devil's coming to collect his due she would joke with Issil, in private. Clerics couldn't do much to help, they said it was simply her time to pass. Issil's parents didn't seem bothered, either. They were busy learning what Grandma's inheritance was, and how much they could squeeze out of it.
Issil, outside of Athanna's home, noticed her balled fists, shaking with rage. One deep exhale to calm the nerves and a quick flex to get that energy out. "It's her time when it's her time. No sooner."
"Actually the Drowned Eye has a legacy that stretches back far before these more recent treasure-hunting tales, though, for during the Age of Legend, it served as an aboleth outpost." Geoffrey recalls some old tales he heard back in Kintargo at the War Cage. "Considering the fell reputation they hold, it is little surprise one of those aboleths could be behind its reputation," he adds, a shiver running down his spine.
"So there's a lot of treasure down there..." His ears perk up and his eyes get a bit wider, at least until Geoffrey adds in his own little tidbit.
"When did you become Mr smartypants? You really know how to blunt a guy's buzz." Regardless, Victor is undeterred by the threats and bolstered by the possibility of treasure.
"So, what are we looking at dealing with down there.. these 'aboleths' and their goons. Probably sharks of some kind too? Another overgrown turtle maybe?" He ponders aloud, building some energy in the air.
"If we want to properly fund this 'event' we're working towards it may be a good idea to round up some sunken treasure on those ships don't you think?" He looks at Issil and points to her precious necklace and rings, rubbing his fingers together and growing them to thrice their size.
He scratches his chin and looks towards Padraig and his magic pack "How much do you think we can stuff in there? Don't we have a bag too?" He looks towards Geoffrey, there's no way he can carry all those weapons without some extra dimensional closet space..
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Pádraig Henry nods, confirming what Morvena and Geoffrey convey regarding the Drowned Eye.
"My haversack can hold a volume of 8 cu. feet and 80 pounds in the center, and 2 cu. feet and 20 pounds in each of the two side pockets."
"Victor's right," the halfling adds, reading the rogue's mind. "We should rest before we depart."
"My handy haversack has the same capacity," Rosebud reminds the team.
Geoffrey looks over his weapon arsenal and nods in agreement, "Several of my weapons are ineffective underwater so I will store them in the Haversack when we arrive at the Eye. Also while I would not mind doing some sunken treasure seeking, we do need to remember our mission. We cannot all breathe underwater forever."
"My bow will be next to useless underwater," Rosebud says.
"A tiny longspear would be perfect. Aava, can you help me acquire one for this mission? PH will cover the expense." She hooks a thumb at the halfling bard.
Issil calms her nerves and reenters Athannah's home, only to overhear party members talking about preparations for tomorrow. "Alright. Sleep well."
She looks to Athanna. "I can't cure you permanently, but I can at least relieve you for the rest of the day. It's better than what I could offer my grandma." She catches herself. "Anyway, I'd like to offer that much aid. Or, I don't know, 3 or 4 villagers who have it worse than you."
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Athannah smile is sorrowful when Issil magically mutes the disease. She breathes a sigh of relief. "Even now, I bet somehow, somewhere, your grandma can still see your willingness to help. Thank you."
Outside, Victor thinks on what he may know of aboleths, which isn't much, given their ancient roots. They once ruled the world with vast empires, and today view most other forms of life as either food or slaves—and sometimes both. They disdain the gods and see themselves as the true masters of creation.
Aava leads you away from the Speaker's Home through many of the lichen and moss covered homes before you get to her own dwelling. "I'm afraid I don't have much room, but we don't have a local inn. It isn't as though many visit us," she frowns. Either way, there's enough room on the floor inside the single-storey home that a bedroll would suffice.
...
In the morning, Aava brings Rosebud a longspear fit for her size. "This should help. As Speaker Athannah said, The Eye is west, past our underwater seaweed farms. Good luck, Silver Ravens."
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Victor takes the opportunity for the cramped sleeping quarters to be silly and slightly childish. A few stray pillows and stinky socks are flung in the darkness towards certain individuals... aka Rosebud. Eventually though he gets some sleep, dreaming longingly of Marta the Manta booting up and lazily drifting through a sea of kelp.
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"Boat, definitely the boat. Once we get close I can scout us through and get us close.. then the big swim." Brrr.
"What are the chances these guys have a magic potion shop.. prolly not great eh?"
"Th-th-thank you." Issil stammers as Athannah breathes a sigh of relief, even if it is temporary. "In a few days, you'll always feel this good. I'd like to learn more about you and the village here, even if I am a bad study."
By the time Issil is ready to sleep she passes out with a smile on her face, like she's sleeping next to the fireplace.
The next morning, Issil elects to use the folding boat. "Can't swim well. Water's kind of cold, too. If you have potions or scrolls of Touch of the Sea that would be really useful."
"Folding boat it is," Geoffrey nods as he finishes storing his excess weapons in Rosebuds's Haversack. "Don't lose that Rosebud," he adds, "I am rather fond of my sword!"
Once the group is underway he nods to Victor, "Scouting ahead? You need some company or can you handle it alone?"
"I guess I could.. again. I guess." Grumbles Victor as the group takes off in the boat and he's stuck swimming the tow line to get them back to where they need to go.
"Make sure Tinkerbell up there keeps us in the right direction, hard tellin' underwater."
"Weather permitting, I'll provide aerial reconnaissance and surveillance," Rosebud acknowledges.