"The lough was calm, too calm. I told them not to cross. The water in Everwealth does not ripple when it’s waiting to eat."
The seabound are the whisper beneath the waves and the flicker beneath the ice. These aquatic and semi-aquatic beasts form the hidden pulse of Everwealth’s lakes, rivers, flooded ruins, and haunted coastal inlets. They are ancient in design, often stranger than their landrooted cousins, shaped by crushing pressure, lightless depths, and the steady seep of corrupted magic into stagnant pools. Some glide through black waters on finned limbs, silent and unseen until it is far too late, while others crawl from the depths during storms to drag away livestock, or fishermen. Their adaptations are uniquely grotesque: translucent skin that absorbs arcane light, gills that filter poison as easily as air, and eyes that see the leylines shifting beneath the current. Seabound creatures are rarely encountered directly, but their influence is felt, nets torn to ribbons, drowned corpses pale with venom, and eerie singing heard beneath frozen lakes. These are not beasts meant for taming. They are the unknowable things that rise when the surface is still, ancient and cold, reminders that even the calmest waters are only a veil stretched over teeth.