Into the Sea
Falco it's time. Shanny and Halegar are going to stay and watch over Gand. No sense taking them down to drown or get eaten in one bite.
Wast---is that another demon? How much do you know about demons? Not much.
You do remember hearing some Blood War grunt on leave hanging around the teeth and trying to get into Pristine's pants, but she was busy with the Bunny, which was loud. In the background, this guy was bragging about fighting a -- Wastrel-loop? A Wasty-poo?Hrm, nope. Well. He was super background. You remember only one thing solidly. The wast-whatever he fought was immune to poison.
Bingle Virgil will go with you, in the air, and settle on the green glow at the top of the water. He will float and wait and glow helpfully so if you win, you can hopefully find the surface.
You pass out the waxy, gritty pills.
Gand agrees with his sister that if it IS a portal, fixing it underwater could be very bad for all the folks getting their souls leeched at the wedding. Out of the soul-grinder, into the drowning, as the old saying goes. Leave the portrait here. I'll watch over Dad and the others. Okay, sure, and when he is strong enough to pee without Felice walking him to a bush and holding his wiener, this will even mean something. But still, Fela has a point...
Tempe Gand will also watch over your father, as will the young people. What other choice do you have? You wish Falco could get some supplies, but alas his little gobbling bag has never had upset stomach in its life, and reverse peristalsis is not in its nature.
You have read more fanciful novels and such than the corsair, but you remember nothing of Dagon from these fictional sources. However, once, in a shipwreck, you happened on a strange diary sealed in a small, wax-lined casket. The paper was already antiquated or perhaps stained and warped from plane travel, for the author made references that made no sense to you---at least not until your understanding of the world was broadened by cruising the planes yourself.
It was something like this...
Perhaps you tell the tale to your compatriots as you plan to your descent and you prep to help the feeted allies you have made survive the dark waters.
Fela Felice grins briefly and says, He won't survive me. I'll come with. She swallows one of the waxy pills and says, Can any help me with a magic for swimming better? She can breath underwater already, and if there is no way to help her swim, she will piggyback it on the siren. I have something to contribute, as well. She pulls a book out of her pocket, rips a page out, then says, Aquaan, and eats it. Then she hoots oddly. You cannot understand her, but you bet Tempe does.
She repeats in common, Here, rip a page and say Aquaan, then eat it. We can communicate then, under water, until next time we sleep. Useful, non? Thank Melisse, if we live. But you must know---this is as the song of whales. It carries.
You are correct about the darkvision. You are swimming toward a glow, and it sheds dim light, but you will need a light source to make the trip. You can hold to the rope and close your eyes and commend yourself to your siren's care, or come up with a non-torch based solution or you could easily be hurt or pose the group. What do you do?
Party, Down you go. Summer is over, but fall has yet to make the nights bitter. The water, while it is shallow, at least, still holds warmth. It gets colder and colder as you angle down toward the putrid green, dimly-glowing crack in the seafloor you can all see now that all the ships have been caught in that whirlpool and disgorged. It takes almost fifteen minutes to swim out to the crack, even with the siren's help.
Then there is nothing for it but to sink toward the glow. Your ears pop, even with the help of the capsules as you fall, down and down, Fish still swim past, but they grow paler, with strange bulged instead of eyes. Odd crustaceans watch you from diseased corals, for ten minutes, but then the walls are only barren rock.
At last the glow resolves into a dim, green half globe on the ocean's floor at the bottom of this trench. There is a low plateau at the center of this green light, and atop this you see the rotting skeleton of a war galley’s stern. It looms up from the ocean bottom beneath you. The sinking ship must have broken in half during its descent, its bow section gone missing (or, more likely, on its buttless way to Saltmarsh) but its stern plunged backward into the seafloor like a spike.
The sandy bed around the wreckage is scattered with bones too far gone to attach and debris. As you approach the the top of the green globe, the water becomes unnaturally cold, and even the strange pale fish you found in the waters above are conspicuously absent. No life. None at all.
OOC
Tell me how you wish to enter the globe (which is water filled). You can sink down at any point or go to the edge and come in at floor level or go deeper to the bottom and be out of view of the pateau.
The rules of underwater combat, just as a reminder:
When making a melee weapon attack, a creature that doesn’t have a swimming speed (either natural or granted by magic) has disadvantage on the attack roll unless the weapon is a dagger, javelin, shortsword, spear, or trident.
A ranged weapon attack automatically misses a target beyond the weapon’s normal range. Even against a target within normal range, the attack roll has disadvantage unless the weapon is a crossbow, a net, or a weapon that is thrown like a javelin (including a spear, trident, or dart).
Creatures and objects that are fully immersed in water have resistance to fire damage.
