Another post inspired by a prompt in the Worldbuilding community ! I'm loving the maritime theme of this week's prompts, I've run so many D&D adventures along the coasts of my homebrew world it's great to have a chance to write them up.
This one is based on a single event that grew out of all proportion and turned into a combination of repeat monster and ongoing in-joke.
Captain Qalarni stared over the stern rail of his galley, watching the pursuing Enrieme dromon and trying to estimate how long before it caught up with them. He felt frustrated that the bigger ship seemed to be so fast, as its oars rose and fell in a rapid, even rythmn. He knew his Sea Dart was a fast ship, even by Milmarian standards, and he suspected a sea mage was hard at work on the Enrieme vessel to give her such a turn of speed.
They were nominally on a trading voyage, but there was a principle at stake. The navy of Enrieme demanded the right to inspect all ships coming into the waters they claimed. The seafarers of Milmar didn't think that the Grand Duchy had any right to either lay claim to these waters or inspect the ships of another nation.
More to the point, Qalarni wasn't keen for his cargo to be inspected too closely. The manifest said it consisted of Sarrasid silks, Jaktan swords and Varenian steel armour - the last two being very much in demand with war between Enrieme and Sidhiara looking increasingly likely.
But under his contract he was also allowed a small personal cargo. His sponsor wouldn't care what it was, but the stuffy Enrieme officers might be less impressed if they found several pounds of Avassari Green hidden in the hold. Legal in Milmar, the stuff was considered a banned drug in much of the rest of the Northern world, and it might cause problems if it was found.
Hurried footsteps clattered up the gangway. A sailor emerged from below deck, out of breath, his face ashen pale. "Captain, come quick ! Farad's dead !"
Captain Qalarni looked over, a worried look crossing his face. "How ? What happened ? I'm coming down. You two... " he gestured at two of the passengers who had been taken on to guard the cargo, "come along with me."
The two passengers sprang to their feet, sensing that their special talents might be required. One was a giant of a man, made of solid muscle with skin as black as ebony, clearly a native of Dabirri or some other place at the far end of the Sarassid Lands. The other looked like a child beside him, a strange and delicate-looking feline woman dressed in free-flowing silks. "Well, Khemed, this could be ... interesting," she purred.
The three of them, captain, warrior and cat, dashed down the steep steps into the belly of the ship, following the lead of the sailor. On the main deck, the crew were still getting things back into order after the storm of the previous two days had tossed everything into a tangled heap of ropes, hammocks, sea chests and everything else that made a ship a living, working machine.
But the group ignored them and followed down into the hold. There, on the orlop floor was the body of Farad, half-visible among the barrels, boxes and crates that held both stores and cargo. Water trickled from his mouth.
"Looks like he's been drowned, Xiang'Hua," Khemed murmured darkly to his companion. "But how could that happen, down here in the hold ? The hatches were battened tight during the storm."
The captain's look of worry deepened. "Check for leaks. Check behind the cargo and supplies, in case a leak has been covered."
Xiang'Hua looked down at the sodden corpse. "I don't think it's a leak, captain. He might have drowned, but drowning doesn't leave marks like that on a man's neck. He was being strangled at the same time. This was murder."
Khemed had already started across the hold to search for any storm damage below the waterline when he stopped in his tracks. "Captain, you need to discipline your crew. They've left the lid off the water butt. We've only got three tuns of fresh water left, and having one of them contaminated by careless neglect is unforgivable."
He reached for the lid lying on the decking next to the barrel and picked it up, ready to replace it. That is when the water moved. It didn't slosh with the movement of the ship; this was a clubbed mass of water that lifted unnaturally from the barrel and smashed Khemed around the back of the head.
Staggering forward, he ducked as the tendril of water lashed forward again, like some kind of prehensile tail or tentacle, trying to wrap around his throat. Now they all realised what had happened to Farad.
Qalarni drew his scimitar, cutting at the water to no avail, and Xiang'Hua's bare-handed strikes seemed ineffective as whatever it was seemed to have no vital spots to target. The sailor with them shrank back in terror, whispering "Water Weird !"
With swords and fists ineffective, Khemed was the one who seized the initiative. Grabbing the lid in both hands, he beat the water weird back, and then pushed the lid down onto the water barrel. Straining with all his considerable might, he forced the lid down until it met the top of the water butt and trapped the creature within. Pressing down hard against each surge as the thing tried to get free, he grunted. "Hammer, nails. Seal it in, I can only hold it for so long."
Swiftly, the other two hammers the lid down, fastening the monster into it's hiding place.
Then a wicked grin crossed Khemed's face. He wrapped both arms around the barrel and lifted it up. No man should have been able to lift the thing, but he did, muscles bulging as he pulled it up onto his shoulder. Staggering up the steps, he made his way to the upper deck and heaved the barrel over the Sea Dart's stern. He was heard saying something about "We might lose a barrel of water, but won't that dromon get a surprise if they take the bait !"
Photo & print by me, original STL by Curufin
Several months later....
The small cargo ship Siyah Domuz was sailing for An Eliaheer, to the east of Milmar, when the lookout spotted a vessel dead in the water ahead of them.
She was very low in the water, of an unfamiliar design – built with the strength and seaworthiness of a caravel, but the fine lines of a galleass or dromon. It is fairly small – only a little larger than their own vessel. She appeared abandoned and had clearly travelled (or drifted) a considerable distance. The sails were yellowed and tattered, and the rigging loose. A flag still flew from the mainmast – horizontally yellow over blue, with a stylised black city in the centre surmounted by red flames.
Sending a boat over to investigate, they found a single survivor, a sailor who was clearly mad, driven that way by what he'd seen, or perhaps from drinking sea water to stay alive in the waterlogged hulk.
"it... it was awful..." he spoke in a shaking voice, traumatised. "It was just a barrel drifting in the sea. But when we took it aboard, it exploded into a mass of water and swamped us. It killed everyone except me.... it was... alive. But worst of all, it spoke. It called itself the Wave that Kills. It said it was punishing all the air breathers. Something about imprisoning it in the barrel, but now it was in control of the barrel and could do what it wanted."
Several months after that.....
The galleon Hvitahrafn was battling through a fierce north-easterly storm, heading for the Velan Straights carrying a party of adventurers on their way to investigate a monster known as "The Smasher of Ships".
"Debris in the water !" cried the lookout. "it's a barrel !"
Down on the deck, Captain Mallory knew that these were dangerous waters; her instincts kicked in and she immediately had a feeling that trouble was afoot.
"Call up the adventurers !" she called. Despite the storm, the party of adventurers rushed up on deck, weapons (and wands) drawn. Not a moment too soon.
As they emerged, a gigantic wave crashed across the ship, swamping her from stem to stern. From the direction of the debris in the water, a mass of water lifted up, and flung great gobbets of seawater towards the galleon. Each of them struck the deck and immediately took shape, rising in the form of large water elementals.
But the adventurers were seasoned veterans of strange and hazardous events, and reacted with calm professionalism. Sir Carlos the paladin of Tyr called out rapid-fire moves to his companions, most of whom were already in motion anticipating what was needed. "Thorn - go airborne ! Seraphine, get into the rigging and snipe them ! Nedrick - firebolt them ! Avery - you and I will go in and smack them. Stick close !"
The disciplined teamwork of the adventurers meant that they focused their efforts on one elemental at a time, overwhelming each in turn before the others could come to the help of their comrade. The battle was swift and brutal. Within thirty seconds, the elementals were smashed, splashed or dispersed.
While the majority of the party dealt with the elementals, the elven mage Thorn had taken to the air and was trying to spot the origin of the foe. He'd glimpsed the Wave, although not clearly enough to know what it was. But then the sea heaved and rose, and the Wave lifted itself from the depths, a monstrous mass of water that towered over the nearby galleon.
Thorn could see that fighting this enormous creature would be a far more serious and risky affair than dealing with the elementals. It would be going into battle against a force of nature.
Not having time to seek an opinion from Sir Carlos, he called to it, trying to be heard over the storm. "What do you want ?"
In a voice like a louder even than the raging storm, it spoke. It was like the noise of a waterspout tearing through a defenceless town.
"FREE ME ! Humans trapped me, humans must free me. Smash the barrel ! Burn it ! Do it or die !"
This was clearly worth a try; the adventurers had nothing to lose, and a lot to gain if they could avoid a dangerous battle like this that was not key to their real mission. With some difficulty they caught the barrel and hauled it onboard. Smashing it, they fed the remains into the iron range in the ship's galley. As they did this, Serephine kept watch, and could see the Wave shrinking back into the water. With it, the storm diminished, as if the two were linked.
Finally, every scrap of the barrel was burned away, leaving just the ironhoops. The monstrous Wave was gone. Of course, no-one knew if it was destroyed, had gone back to the plane of water, or had tricked them and was just lying in wait for the next ship to pass.
Image by WikiImages from Pixabay
DM's Note:
This all started as a mini "murder mystery" idea on a sea voyage game. My original expectation was that I could murder a few of the crew while that player characters did a methodical investigation. But they sussed out the issue almost immediately, with Khemed rolling a natural 20 on a strength check to force the lid down on the thing.
And yes, the player of Khemed really did have the bright idea of chucking the barrel overboard into the path of the pursuing dromon to see what would happen, so everything that happened afterwards is all his fault. Over time, it evolved from a straight water weird into an Elder Water Elemental with additional marid-like powers and elemental servants, and a bad case of insanity. It's become an in-game trope that anyone travelling by sea expects to see a barrel containing The Wave That Kills.
Also... in retrospect I should probably have broken this into two or three chapters.....
