Ewald Khel has been dead for three days, and the villagers have since been unable to find meaningful rest. Whether by waves crashing upon the bluffs or the coarse whispering beneath them, the embrace of a good night’s sleep is elusive. Those few able to find respite have been jolted awake, wading through the brackish shore, called by something they cannot quite put into words.
Once a thriving port town, Harwynn Bluff has declined with the development of new trade routes and shipping lanes. As the easy money dried up, the more opportunistic entities of wealth have trickled away one by one. The last remaining bastion of old money in town is the house of Khel, perched high on a hill overlooking the western edge of town. The family has been historically insular and engaged minimally with the townsfolk through the seasons, which has elevated them to a popular topic of conversation and speculation with the drunks and gossip-mongers who still call this place home.
| 1d6 | Rumor |
|---|---|
| 1 | I heard that the Khel family bleeds seawater. |
| 2 | The last boy to make a delivery up there never returned. |
| 3 | My cousin saw the old man standing in the surf under the last full moon. |
| 4 | I can’t say that I recognized the cloaked figures who took the old man’s body into the tomb. |
| 5 | One time I thought I heard him whispering something into the well at the center of town. |
| 6 | My friend said that he heard a rumbling voice coming out of the tomb last night. |
Ewald Khel was the last of his line, having lived and died alone. He had no heir.
News of Khel’s death has spread fast, and to the right pair of ears, it could sure sound like a windfall. The prospect of family effects to be plundered is what drew 2d6 Ne’er-do-wells (DS 5) to this first antechamber of the Khel family crypt, having pitched a small camp along the north wall. They hate sharing outside of their gang and will attack on sight to protect their potential spoils, but a harsh scent of salt and thundering of the waves on the bluff has them on edge.
Water trickles through the cracks in the stone walls of this chamber, pooling on the uneven floor. A marble sarcophagus occupies the eastern wall, with an inscription carved into the side:
Interred here is Morynne Khel. She of the flooded breath. She of the brackish song. We drink of her spirit and find calm in the deep.
A chipped stone goblet sits atop the slab, collecting water from a slow drip in the ceiling. At the bottom of the goblet is a tarnished amulet, engraved with a coiled tentacle. Drinking from the goblet costs the imbiber 2 HP, but increases their highest ability score by 1 until their next full night’s sleep (if two or more ability scores are tied for the highest, the player gets to choose). The water has a strong fishy taste.
Inside the sarcophagus is a dessicted skeleton. Two gold coins rest over the eye sockets.
This room is completely silent, save for what sounds like a rush of air coming in through a large crack in the southern wall. A small stream of water trickles from the bottom and onto the floor. Upon entering the room, each player must make an Erudite roll (DS 5). Those who fail must lower their Erudite score by 1 as they feel an ancient presence pierce their mind. Those who succeed are able to detect the whispering of an ancient language piercing through the rush of air into the catacomb.
two carve-outs on the eastern wall sit conspicuously empty, containing only burial cloth. A more thorough examination reveals a small brass ring among the folds.
As the players leave this room, the water collecting from the crack in the wall congeals into a Brine Ooze (DS 12). It stalks them silently.
A statue centered on the western wall holds a torch in it’s right hand that burns a pale blue, illuminating what appears to be human bones scattered across floor. In the statue’s left hand, resting against an open palm, is a spear. Crafted of solid steel, the tip resembles the head of a giant squid, with coiling tentacles engraved down the shaft. A clouded brass plate at the base of the statue reads the following:
Arden Khel, Who Heard the Call of the Deep and Beckoned Back unto the Darkness
The spear grants the wielder +2 Brute. Whenever the wielder makes an attack, they must make a separate Brute roll (DS 8). Failure will lower their Erudite score by 1 until their next full night’s sleep, as an unsettling presence in the back of their mind starts to loosen their grip on reality. Additionally, they will smell strongly of seawater.
When the players begin to explore the chamber, the Brine Ooze (DS 12) from the Room 3 will attack. If a player acquired the tarnished amulet from Room 2, the ooze will focus on attacking them until one is destroyed. If a player brandishes the spear held by the statue, the ooze will attempt to flee back to Room 3.
The room is filled with thick spiderwebs surrounding a cracked and crumbling sarcophagus. Within the webs lurk 2d4 Giant Sea-Spiders (DS 6).
There is a deceased Someone entangled in the webs. An Erudite roll (DS 5) indicates he is one of the gang of Ne’er-do-wells from Room 1. Clutched in the hand of the dessicated corpse is a Longsword. In the pocket of his tattered coat is a letter to a long-lost love.
The chamber is empty, save for a large hole excavated into the floor of the northwest corner. It is impossible to know how deep it goes, and any torch or source of light dropped down will be extinguished before any meaningful information is gleaned. A putrid odor emanates from the opening in a distinct rhythm, as if it were breathing. Any player who intentionally peers over the edge into the darkness will feel compelled to jump to their doom.
Three Zombies (DS 8) kneel around the edge. They immediately rise and attack anyone who enters the room. After 1d4 rounds, a fourth Zombie (DS 10) climbs from the hole. An Erudite roll (DS 5) reveals this to be the walking corpse of Ewald Khel himself. Any damage dealt to him by the spear obtained in Room 4 heals him for that much instead.
When the reanimated corpses of the Khel family have met their final rest, a geyser of seawater erupts from the gaping maw. The room is filled with a rumbling echo:
SUSTAIN ME. FEED THE DEEP.