D&D Season 3: The Golden Era -- Session 8

Pitch upon gloom, the glassy, black surface of the Darklake was tantamount to staring at the event horizon of pure darkness. Distant whispers danced atop the near-still waters, echoing just untold fathoms. To our heroes, they could have been from just over their shoulder to the last words uttered by some lone soul a millennia ago. This place might very well be the epicenter of isolation itself.

No closer to anywhere, the Vanguard surveyed the ashen sandbar up and down in search of anything. Cavern columns the breadth of giants dotted the snaking landmass, but otherwise, they were surrounded on all sides by the opaque sea.

Suddenly, a clamor from the head of the islet. Around a column, a school of kuo-toa had touched down along the shore, their boats deliberately capsized and carved into effigies of some artificial gods. Rapt in ceremony led by one in robes, they set the boats ablaze in purple flames, cheering.

Acting quickly, Quinn slipped into their ranks, disguised as one of their own. While working to distract and procure the largest boat, yet to be ignited, the others launched a surprise volley upon the merfolk cult. Cunning and organized, the kuo-toa fought back with hooked spears which aimed to sweep their feet and nets to ensnare the most dangerous attackers. But might and tenacity prevailed, slowly whittling their numbers down to the robed leader.

In desperation, it turned to the boat and prayed; and in response, the vessel brayed. The carved face warped and opened its splintering maw in a guttural howl, aiding its worshipper with profane spells. Together, they were more formidable than their previous numbers. But when a trained blade buried into the leader's chest, its wooden guardian went with it, leaving being an inert vessel once more.

The party up-ended the longboat and embarked into the dark in search of some exit or mainland. Instead, they found only every horror the Underdark could offer.