Interview with a Drowned One

The corridor ended in a small round room with a dark pool covering the floor. Hovering above the pool was a ghastly apparition. In life he had been a huge burly half-orc with x-shaped scars on his cheeks. At one time his clothing had been quite fine, but the brocades now looked as if they had sat at the bottom of a lake for the last decade. I thought the fine clothing strange. Most half-orcs in Perinor live in poverty. Their very existence implies a very nasty backstory, as half-orcs themselves are sterile, and so have no culture or society of their own, and usually only come into the world through violence. This one must have been particularly vicious to climb up into a position of power.

A thick chain was wrapped around his body, clinking as he moved. Filthy water dripped from his ghostly body into the dark pool below. His skin was as waterlogged as his clothing. As a cleric concerned with healing, looking at the apparition in front of us made my stomach churn. It could only be the bound spirit of a Drowned One. Drowned Ones only come into existence when a person drowns while committing a heinous crime. I remember Father Cerance saying he hoped we would never encounter one. "Let's please not attack it." I whispered to my companions.

Rhegar nodded in agreement and stepped forward to the edge of the pool. The half-orc sneered at the dragonborn and yawned in open boredom. I saw the paladin suppress a shudder. Father Cerance mentioned a chilling aura caused by the unholy presence of a Drowned One. Making sure his weapon was not brandished, Rhegar began in a calm manner, trying to be as unthreatening as possible. "I am Rhegar, paladin of Bahamut." The half-orc sneers. "So what?" Rhegar continues to put on his show. "We came this way chasing a pair of sirens. But I wonder, why are you here in this pool." "Because I like it here," The ghost snarls in reply.

I thought his responses odd. I knew this guy has immense power at his disposal. He had a good chance of ending us all in a fight. But he seemed almost oblivious! It’s fairly obvious the half-orc wanted something, yet his snide remarks didn't give a clue as to what it could be. Markas stepped forward, trying a slightly different approach. "It takes a great deal of power to circumvent the authority of the Raven Queen. Tell me what is it that holds you here?" "I was the Captain of the Silver Talon. If I had my crew I would be out of here by now." By the way the half-orc sneers out the last sentence, you can tell he wasn't a nice captain, and he thought of his crew as expendable to him.

Vixi pipes up from the back, the last bit of information having triggered a memory: "I've heard stories of the Silver Talon. They were a ruthless, cutthroat bunch that terrorized the waters around Perinor. They sacked both Aurincia and Farport multiple times. The worst, of course, was their captain, Voko the Black. I heard from a shaken sailor two weeks ago that Voko died drowning his pregnant mistress. As everyone knew Voko couldn't sire children, her perfidy was obvious."

We huddled together to form a plan of attack. Spiritual lore about Drowned Ones tell us that we have three ways to get rid of a one. One, a Drowned One can inhabit the body of a person who drowns in the same place where the apparition haunts. We would simply need to provide Voko with a healthy body to drown, so he could take it over. Of course, this would mean unleashing a terrible evil back into the world. Bad idea. Two, fight the powerfully enhanced apparition. Also bad, though preferable to the first option. Three, banish the Drowned One to Hell. There was only one problem with plan three.

"I don't know how to banish anything.” I leaned forward whispering conspiratorily. “Kord sees banishment as a form of cowardice and prefers that we meet foes head on in battle." I looked over at Rhegar as he continues to try and talk to Captain Voko, confirming that the spirit is too busy to notice us. "It doesn't need to be real." Kalena insists. "He just needs to think it’s real." Vixi added, handing me a bag of white sand. We decide that, as a devoted follower of the Raven Queen, Markas is the most convincing one to lead the 'ritual.' He straightened his scale chestpiece and steps forward, chanting. I began making sand patterns on the edge of the pool, and Kalena lit a couple candles.

The Drowned One looked nervously at our activities, the first time we had seen anything other than contempt since we entered the chamber. Markas broke his chant for a moment, dark eyes locking coldly onto those of the pirate captain. "I've had enough of your chatter. Those who have died belong to the Raven Queen and it is far past the time for you to join her." He began chanting again.The half-orc’s demeanor changed instantly. "No! I mean no need for that, friends." Voko smiles fakely, desperation on his face. "You were chasing the two fishy women. Of course, you were. They took their little human slaves and swam out the tunnel at the bottom of the pool." Markas glared at the apparition, weapon at the ready. "If this a trick, your pain will increase fourfold."

Quickly the rest of us waded into the pool. All of a sudden Garn appeared in the doorway and started peppering us with questions. “What is going on? Have you found the sirens yet? Who is-” He was cut off as Rhegar grabbed his arm and grunted out a quick reply in draconic. “Just follow Kyri. We’ll explain on the other side.” Garn nodded and made his way through the water after the elf. As I swam down through the pool I could see two corpses. The female had a golden locket around her neck and I saw Vixi stop to unhook it as she passed. Overhead I could see the surface shimmering as I turned upward, wondering what the next room would bring.