Into the Darkness
The raft rocked gently on the dark waters of Lake Vollous, the city of Volland a distant silhouette against the morning sky. Around them, the water stretched endlessly, still and silent save for the occasional ripple beneath the surface.
Faylen, peering over the edge, tightened her grip on her longbow, Charm. The spectral voice of its former owner whispered in her ear.
The Deep One lurks, my dear Faylen… I can feel its presence.
“I really wish you wouldn’t say things like that,” she muttered.
Makhulim sat cross-legged in the center of the raft, sharpening This and That with slow, methodical strokes. “So. What’s the plan?”
Marcho stretched out on his back, hands behind his head. “I say we row right back to shore, tell the fishermen we saw something terrifying, and let them sort it out.”
“We are not doing that,” Faylen said firmly.
Nayzungit, standing at the front of the raft, nodded. “We have been chosen by fate. Angradd guides us to the truth.”
Makhulim groaned. “Nayzungit. I swear. If ye bring up that forge-lovin’ god one more time, I’ll find a way to drown you in this lake.”
Nayzungit crossed his arms, unbothered. “If I drown, it is by Angradd’s will.”
Marcho smirked. “I’d say it’d be more by Makhulim’s will, honestly.”
A sudden splash silenced them all.
The sahuagin warriors, still half-submerged in the water, hissed and looked toward the depths. Their leader, the blue-scaled one, spoke in its raspy Common…..
“The Deep One stirs. You must go below.”
Faylen sighed, already regretting her life choices. “Right. Below.”
Makhulim sheathed his axes. “Anyone got a plan fer breathin’ underwater?”
Marcho grinned. “Good news! I do.”
Everyone turned to him expectantly.
Marcho gestured dramatically to Faylen. “She knows magic.”
Faylen scowled. “You don’t actually have a plan. You just assumed I’d fix it.”
Marcho nodded. “Yep.”
Faylen muttered a spell, and a soft shimmer surrounded the group as gills formed along their necks. “Water breathing. You’re welcome.”
Marcho gave a thumbs-up. “See? I did have a plan.”
Makhulim grumbled but stood. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
With that, they slipped beneath the water one by one.
The Deep One Revealed
Beneath the surface, the world transformed into an eerie expanse of darkness and shifting shadows. Schools of fish darted away at their approach, their silvery scales catching the dim sunlight filtering through the water. Strange, undulating plants swayed in the currents, their tendrils reaching out like grasping fingers.
The deeper they went, the darker it became.
Marcho, swimming just ahead, narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like this.”
Makhulim exhaled a stream of bubbles. “Aye. Feels like somethin’s watchin’ us.”
Then, from the gloom below, something moved.
A massive shadow shifted in the depths, something huge and dark looming beneath them. A deep, resonant rumbling echoed through the water.
Marcho immediately kicked backward. “Nope. No, thank you. We are leaving.”
Faylen, her curiosity outweighing her sense of survival, peered closer. “It’s… big.”
Makhulim readied his axes. “Good. More to cut.”
The sahuagin warriors hovered nearby, tense, ready to attack. The shadow drifted closer.
The Eyes Have It
Then, from the depths, a giant, luminous eye opened.
And then another.
Then another.
And another.
Marcho froze. “Oh, gods. It has too many eyes. It has too many eyes.”
The massive creature, easily the size of a small ship, loomed in the murk. Its long, coiling shape undulated gently, its multiple glowing eyes blinking lazily as it studied them.
Makhulim braced himself. “Right. Time to—”
Then the creature made a sound.
A deep, warbling gurgle, followed by a loud blub-blub-blub as it opened its enormous mouth and sucked in a massive cloud of tiny fish.
Marcho blinked. “Wait a minute.”
The sahuagin warriors tensed, their webbed hands tightening around their spears. But Faylen, watching the creature more closely, tilted her head.
“Hold on,” she said. “I… I don’t think it’s a monster.”
Makhulim squinted. “It’s bloody enormous. What else would it be?”
Marcho hesitated. “It’s… a filter feeder.”
They all turned to him.
He pointed. “Look at how it’s eating. It’s not hunting. It’s just floating around, sucking in fish; not scaring them away. It’s eating them before they even get to the fishing grounds.”
The creature gave another slow, contented gurgle.
Faylen’s eyes widened. “It’s just… a really, really big lake creature.”
Nayzungit nodded sagely. “A magnificent creation of divine will.”
Makhulim exhaled sharply. “Aye. Angradd’s divine waste of our time.”
The sahuagin leader scowled. “This… is the Deep One?”
Marcho grinned. “Yep. Just a big, hungry… thing.”
Faylen smirked. “We should probably let the fishermen and sahuagin know they’re not at war.”
Makhulim grunted. “Fine. But I want a drink after this.”
Negotiating with the Sahuagin
Back at the surface, the sahuagin warriors listened as Marcho explained.
The leader’s eyes narrowed. “You mean… the Deep One is just eating?”
Marcho nodded. “Yep. It’s not attacking you, not scaring the fish—it’s just really big and has a really big appetite.”
The sahuagin grumbled amongst themselves before their leader let out a huffing grunt.
“We will not worship this creature.”
“No one said you had to,” Faylen assured.
The leader crossed his arms. “We still do not like it.”
Makhulim waved a hand. “Fine. Hate it all ye like. Just don’t start attackin’ folk over it.”
The sahuagin eventually nodded, satisfied that their honor was intact.
“Very well. We will not fight the two-legs. But we will watch this Deep One closely.”
Makhulim muttered under his breath. “Aye, you do that.”
Return to Volland
The Roving Adventurers returned to the fishermen with the news.
The older fisherman scratched his head. “So… you’re tellin’ me the fish ain’t gone ‘cause of sahuagin, but ‘cause some giant fish-hoover is gulpin’ them down?”
Marcho nodded. “Yep.”
The younger fisherman frowned. “And it’s not… dangerous?”
Faylen shook her head. “Not unless you’re a minnow.”
The fishermen glanced at each other, then shrugged.
“Well,” the older one said, “as long as it ain’t attackin’ our boats, I suppose we can live with it.”
Marcho grinned. “Glad to help.”
Makhulim turned toward the nearest tavern. “Right. Now I’m getting a drink.”
And Next?
With peace restored, the Roving Adventurers had done their duty. Now, all that remained was to drink, eat, and hopefully never hear the words ‘Deep One’ again.
