Grimly, Chum shakes his head. "We are either going to be visible and mobile on the ridge." He points toward the indicated path, "Or we descend and climb again, giving the creatures the chance to rain stones upon our heads while cannot fight back."
I grimly nodded along with Chum's assessment. Then we must move as quickly as we are able. We have at last found the grindys! Let's move. At last this island has yielded us hope for our comrades!
"We can ill afford further injury. Move with care, my friends."
"And not soon enough. The sooner we find our friends, the sooner we can put our backs to this damnable island."
"I suggest we leave the bulky items behind, and pick them up on upon our return. These spears, however..."
Owlbear seems willing to gamely follow along at his captain's command, and if Conchobhar has any objections, he swallows them in the face of the alternatives. The larger man avails himself of several of the spears, looking pleased by their potential utility, while the gnome merely comments, "I bet that spyglass is worth a pretty penny when we come back too."
The journey to where you saw the grindylows through the glass isn't particularly pleasant, but neither do you encounter any obstacles worth serious mention. About an hour and a half later, as the sun reaches its midday peak, you find yourselves standing on the edge of the sinkhole, peering down.
It is a surprisingly long way.
What you had originally believed to be a depression in the rocks is in fact a vertical shaft about fifty feet across at its mouth and most of twice that straight down. The shaft narrows as it descends, with the lowest cliff only about forty feet above the bottom, which is a dark, churning cauldron of seawater thirty or so feet wide. The walls of the shaft look climbable, if definitely not without risk.
That water does appear quite deep. I'd wager there are no rocky hazards just below the surface. Meaning we have ourselves a bit of a fortuitous buffer if we should fall from the climb down. Not that I would want such a fate to befall any of us.
"I would suggest either roping ourselves together or at the very least climbing down individually with a safety line."
Eleuterio sighs loudly as he looks down the edge of the sinkhole. "More climbing. Wonderful." He unshoulders his pack and withdraws a long coil of rope. "I've got a length of fifty feet. What else do we have as assets?"
Chum crouches down and peers into the shaft. "Good eye, Cap'n. I must agree with your assessment. I'm concerned that I don't see any of the grindylows. And that nest of stirges across the way are going to be an unpleasant obstacle."
He points at a sheltered ledge on the opposite side and about 60' down. "I count at least six of the bloodsuckers. It's a shame, but I don't think we can drop anything on them from up here. I would much rather fight them on land than on a rope."
Eleuterio's eyebrows raise as Chum spots the stirges' nest. "Then let's poke that hornet's nest before we climb down." Once again, he unshoulders his bow. "I don't suppose we have the equipment to make fire arrows, do we?"
"I doubt I do. What would you need?" He peers down at the nest again. "Who knows what the little thieves have dragged back to their nest, but it would be quite a challenge to find out. I think if you get them to come attack, we need to concentrate on them, one at a time, until they are all dead, don't you think?"
I was much relieved that my more observant associates spotted the hazard before we attempted the climb down. I haven't a bow, and I don't think the pistol will do much from here. I'll use one of the flasks. Ready when you are.
Once everyone is ready, Eleuterio lets his flame arrow fly.
No doubt our actions have stirred a veritable hornets' nest. I drew my rapier to be ready if the bloodsuckers decided to accost us.
I take one of the spears and wrap an oiled rag just below the tip. After checking it for balance and setting it alight, I join my mates in tormenting the stirges.
Chum draws his magical dagger and watches the nest to judge the effectiveness of the attacks.
"Ready yourself, Owlbear, friend Conchobahr. We will probably have company very soon."
Flaming spears, arrows and flasks shatter on the rocks near the stirge nest. Two of the small creatures are set alight, and the others cry out with faint, mewling calls. They retreat into the rock and out of sight.
Eleuterio sighs in relief as the stirges abandon their nest for safer ground. "That's a good omen, indeed," he says, unstringing his bow and preparing to lead the way to the cliff edge, scanning for a place to tie off some rope.
Chum keeps watch on the nest and down into the well in case another threat shows itself.
Several sturdy-looking bushes dot the basin's edge close enough to be used as rope anchors.
Right, then! A bit of rope lashed together and we'll be out of this heat in no time! I said, producing my stored length of rope I had brought along for just this sort of need. We had finally located what surely was the grindylows' grotto. Now we had to deal with the defenders, and rescue our crewmates. Simple task, that. I simply hoped that the island's other hazards hadn't taken too much of a toll on our resources.
The rope hangs just a few inches above the rippling, churning water. You make your way down slowly and carefully, dropping down into the water at the bottom with relative ease. Once you get down there, though, you discover that the grotto is not a solitary geological feature, but is apparently connected to a network of sea caves. One tunnel is just barely visible below the waterline leading southeast, while the another forms a rough arch, peaking about ten feet above the water, leading almost directly east. Both are quite dark.
"If they have air-breathing prisoners that they bring this way, they would come through the arch to the east, yes? But I have no faith in that being the case."
He casts light on his scimitar and will do likewise for any of his 'mates that desire it.
"No doubt there will be swimming involved sooner or later," Eleuterio agrees. "Let's see if we can have it be later. I have little interest in fighting a battle in their element."
"Whether we're headed for low tide or high, I think our best option is still the open tunnel. Let's get in there before we lose our opening."
Chum nods and, lighted sword in hand, swims toward the opening, watching for threats.
Chum took to the water as though he was born to it. I acquitted myself well enough, splashing along to the open tunnel as Evril suggested. I thought furiously, however, for we were now in enemy territory. We all had suffered grievous wounds, and it would not do well to get surrounded and done in by the very grindylows we were hoping to slay.
Of course. It was simple, really. Lads, I believe I have a cunning plan. When we find ourselves face-to-face with the grindylows here in this grotto, we should do something they'll never expect. We surrender.
I expected the stunned looks, so I forged on ahead. Why fight and swim and blunder our way through these tunnels looking for their larder, when they will bring us straight there forthwith? We make sure Sandara's Besmaran symbol is secreted amongst us, as well as our weapons. They take us to her, so we can allow her to reconnect with her goddess, heal us all in the process, and then we all break out together.
I looked at their faces each in turn. What do you chaps think?
"Your plan *cough* seems to *sputter* rely *gasp* on us *...* not *...* drowning. "*blub*
Though his limbs felt much lighter without the heavy armor, Eleuterio felt naked and vulnerable without its protection. Still, its weight was considerable, and the paladin struggled to keep his head above water almost as much as Evril.
True enough, true enough, I agreed with Evril as he splashed about rather ineffectively. I paddled out to him and lent him a bit of assistance to bring him toward the first tunnel.
Evril and Eleuterio find themselves swept under by the churning water of the cauldron-like basin.
Thankful for the assistance, I head towards the partially submerged cavern entrance.