A Rising Tide

A fish in hand is worth two in the bush

How can a plan go so terribly awry? It seems the way of things for this small crew.

The plan had been to sneak into the village, find Wrist and escape. Perhaps, if they had time, find a priest and crack his skull open. But no, that did not happen. They spotted the priest, and the Merchant sought to engage him in banter while the rest continued their work. But the priest was wily, and new these for unwelcome foreigners.

They found Wrist, yes, held caged and transformed; his body warping into a sea creature’s while insanity dripped from him like melt water. “Find a goblet” he said, “Destroy it to free me.”

The others then stumbled into the torchlight around the priest and the Merchant. From no where a blue cloud of death erupted, melting flesh and wood and metal. villages ran screaming, and a melee began but briefly before the priest ruptured with foul magics. Seeing their priest become so much butchered meat, the fisherfolk scattered and left the wayward crew to their business.

They found the goblets, but could not bring themselves to destroy Wrist’s. Instead they managed to put his cage on a wagon, and trot him back to town. He howled the entire time, even as fog creatures came to escort the fearful adventurers.

They return to the ringing of bells, and a night that has not yet passed in the city. As sleep took them, Wrist broke free and now wanders lonely and enraged through the streets of the town.



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