Session 30: Hags and High Priestesses

General Summary

The party hadn’t moved on from Shanty’s Market for long when Aatavi began to feel a strange, painful sensation in his throat. He quelled the burn with large mouthfuls of water but soon had drained his waterskin. The barbarian frowned as he remembered the aboleth’s tentacle, forcing its way down his throat during the battle. Once again it seemed the Mysati had fallen prey to some strange affliction. Not above asking for help, he stopped the party and told them what was happening. As Faelyn and Shadow examined him they could see that the skin around his neck and chest was drying out at a rapid pace and becoming enflamed before flaking, cracking, and splitting open. As moisture seemed to retard the desiccation they stopped near a large pool of brackish water for the barbarian to find some relief.   Lowering himself in the water as well, Faelyn took his cloak and applied it like a damp compress on his friends back and shoulders. The pool was not unoccupied though, and Aatavi and Faelyn soon found themselves beset by a large crocodile. The heroes made short work of the beast, which they hauled onto the nearby ledge. Keokan got to work skinning the animal, while the rest of the Shore’s Light talked about what to do.   Their friend was obviously in peril, so the party decided to once again ask Father Triftan at the Pantheonic Temple for help. They exited the sewer tunnels from the back room of the brewery and headed for the harbor. Aatavi lowered himself in the water while Faelyn and Aaura kept their friend company. Keokan and Shadow headed towards the Pantheonic Temple, while Adockus took flight to reconnect with his partner Gavain.   Unfortunately, Aatavi’s affliction was too potent for the old Father to cure so he recommended the party find relief at the one of the temples to the City’s Patron Deities: Geminon and Hellia. Needing a quick solution, they settled on the Temple of Geminon in the Tender District, where the High Priestess, (official title, “The Aureate”) used divine power to heal the Mysati barbarian in exchange for the bejeweled harp that the party had found in the Melody's hoard.   With the party once again healthy, the Shore’s Light stopped by the Knave’s Knook to procure a couple potions of water breathing before making their way through back to the Ambassadors Commorancy to rest and reconnect with the Matrix Arcanum Mages. They were greeted by Helen at the front desk, who informed them that Omori had left to spend time in the Widow’s Walk and handed Aaura a small rolled parchment, tied with a string.   Carefully unrolling the note, Aaura immediately recognized the Celestial language. A symbol of Aquorra at the note’s end confirmed what Helen told her; the note had been left by Ivanka, Aaura’s classmate from the Cloistered Isle. Translating the missive to her companions proved a slightly cryptic exercise. It read:  

  Somewhere within the city, a young aasimar had been kidnapped and was being held is secret. Aaura and her friends deduced that the note was talking about the Brasspot District and that the perpetrator bore some sort of green cap but certain details, like the mention of a “Scarlet Cutlass” still eluded them. Further deductions would have to wait as the Shore’s Light was soon approached by the black robed wizards of the Arcanum.   Gavain had been troubled in their absence. The orbs at the Golden Garrison had been flaring up, requiring extra attention to keep them from overcharging. After the party related their experiences under the city he urged haste in returning. The necromantic pulses were getting stronger and if the orb beneath the city was left unchecked for much longer the results might prove catastrophic.   Setting other matters aside, the Shore’s Light returned to the Shantytown Market the next morning. They soon connected with Kylen, who took them through a green archway and into a shallow tunnel of slimy water.   Rats swam past them through the muck and skittered along ledges before the heroes pulled themselves up into another chamber. A crack in the wall at the far end allowed them to move into yet another chamber where a runic circle in the wall held the watery abyss at bay.   Through the gloom on other side of the circle they saw a number of ruins on the sea floor, fallen pillars and broken arches of a once proud Ymmari city. Past these ruins another structure stood out against the gloom, an interior light shedding a pale glow and casting shadows. Kylen shuddered as he pointed towards the lit building, and in a croaking voice confirmed that the Matron of the Bell resided within.   Bracing themselves against the icy depths our heroes moved past the circle and into the abyss. Climbing over and around the ruins they walked along the sea floor towards the lit chamber. As they approached they noticed how haphazardly the ruin stood. Large ruinous chunks that should have succumbed to the gravity and pressure of the deep stood piled on top of each other, stitched together with masses of bubble that clung to odd fibers. A large portal indicated a front entrance to the abode but unlike the runic gate they had just left, no glowing runes seemed to hold the water at bay. Instead, a strange mix of pressure and water tension had equalized and caused an enormous bubble to protrude slightly from the doorway. One by one the party cautiously moved past the threshold and into a long chamber.   The air was damp but the bubble held the water at bay. The odor of rotting vegetation and rancid meat hung heavily in the chamber. Light poured from a doorway at the far end of the passageway where the party could see a number of tables piled with bubbling crockery, thistled vegetation, and odd curios.   The hallway opened into a vast chamber, its ceiling hidden in blackness. The walls were comprised of a mess of broken structures held together with masses of bubbles and long fibrous strands pulled taut that somehow held the pressure of the deep at bay. All number of dead sea creatures hung from various points of the hidden ceiling and around the walls, stuck fast in the web like fibers.   The parties watched as a malformed hag busied herself extracting venom from a jellyfish into a strange alembic before she slurped up its smashed remains from the palm of her overly muscled hand.   Faelyn spoke first, “You are the Matron.”   “No” the hag responded slyly, “a common mistake, though you do wait in her presence. I am Ms. Beadrix Plum.” Through a grimace of shark like teeth she added, “Who speaks to me?”   “Faelyn Dundrathorn Blueshade.”   “Ooooh!” the hag cackled, “Faelyn Dundrathorn Blueshade. Tell me Faelyn Dundrathorn Blueshade what brings you into the depths today?”   A tense conversation followed. Beadrix explained that she could easily help them but they would have to return her favor. “Hidden within Lith-Cyak's Sanctum is that which wriggles… capture it, and bring it to me, and I will give you what you require.”   They Shore’s Light exchanged confused looks before the hag held up a jar with a specimen inside. It looked like a desiccated lychee nut. She rattled the jar, “That which wriggles.”   “And you can direct us to the Sanctum?” Aaura asked.   “Of course” the hag replied. “To the north beyond the shattered pillar. Through the dome and into the long passage beyond. But the way is long, and cold, and deep…” she trailed off.   Eager to receive the help, Faelyn agreed but was cut short by Beadrix. “Not so fast. What’s to say that you will keep your side of the bargain? I need…. collateral.” She moved her gaze to each of the Shore’s Light. “Such beautiful, beautiful creatures” she spat. Looking at Faelyn she demanded “I’ll take your finger…” she looked at Aaura, “and your eye!”   Horrified the Shore’s Light balked at the demand. “Don’t worry beauties, I’ll put them back if you bring me what I’ve asked for” she smiled, “or we can make a new bargain!”   Faelyn stood taller and with steely resolve regarded the hag. “Leave her be” he said, “take my finger and my eye.”   The hag’s eyes lit up. “Faelyn Dundrathorn Blueshade!” she cackled again, “My hero!”   Moving quickly, she grabbed a pair of rusty shears and a jagged spoon, clipping his finger off at the knuckle and scooping his eyeball out with a slurping pop.   Faelyn screamed from the rude surgery and Shadow and Keokan quickly closed in to help him. Beadrix moved about the room and brought forth a number of iron collars, treating each by moving it through one of the thin fibrous membranes that kept the water at bay. As her hand passed through the wall a slight vibration trembled upwards to the darkness above. Glancing up the Shore’s Light watched as something dark and colossal shifted far above them. A long spindly spider’s leg danced slowly through the light before tucking itself back into the darkness.   “These will allow you to breathe underwater, and talk with each other on your journey” the hag said.   “And you will make our friend whole again, when we have brought you what you want?” asked Keokan.   “I always keep my bargains.”   The Shore’s Light were soon outside again, moving through the gloom to the north, and over a large toppled pillar, thick and knobbled with dried barnacles. In the distance, past a vast field of ruined buildings they could see a large dome. According to the hag, somewhere within was the entrance to the watery sanctum.   As her eyes flashed in the undersea gloom Shadow recognized hundreds and hundreds of undead fish moving aimlessly through the ocean. Each time they passed by, Keokan slipped his sickle through the water and ended them. The party hadn’t traveled far when they noticed a pair of pale white, tentacled humanoids zipping through the water. Their skin flashed a variety of hues as they moved from the ruins to strange outcroppings of bleached coral and back again.   Despite their best efforts to sneak around these aberrations the party was soon discovered and combat ensued. The alien environment caused some of the mages' spells to react strangely but with the aid of the hag’s strange breathing apparatuses they were able to speak, cast spells, and coordinate their attacks. Aatavi once again took the brunt of their foes attacks as they blasted him with psychic rays and tore at his flesh with their tentacles. But with Mokarrad at his side the barbarian proved too much, dealing fierce blows to their enemies. With their combined might, the Shore’s Light once again found themselves victorious.   Taking a moment to catch their breath, the Shore’s Light turned their attentions once more to the dome in the distance. What horrors lay within?