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PostPosted: Thu Sep 21, 2017 11:20 pm 

Joined: Tue Jun 14, 2016 8:55 pm
Posts: 58
For the weary adventurers of Port Harmony, sleep has not come easy, especially for those who found themselves in what they thought was the watery domain of the being who calls herself Typhonia’s dwelling in the month of June.
The dream starts with the same thing, finding themselves isolated deep below an ocean, lungs filled deep with filthy, briny sea water. They attempt to call out their allies whom they feel are close, and for a brief moment, they can see someone through the murky water. However, they can not speak for they are consumed by the water throughout, and eventually they begin to realize that they have no mouth.
Eventually, as the water begins to take them, they begin to be able to breathe as if almost by a miracle. Before long, they feel a strange slimy film form over their eyes and they can see through the water. When they take their first clear surveying of the sight before them, it shows for a brief moment before jarringly waking them up. It is something terrifyingly indescribable, a writhing shapeless mass, and surrounding it, a legion of the creatures that the people of Port Harmony have been fighting, the ones that resemble fish-like creatures.
One particular night, this woke up everyone in the town very late, and some began to shuffle outside to wonder and share in their dreams. It was beginning to grow cold in the town, as autumn’s hand grasped summer’s, leading it towards the frozen maw of winter.
A thick fog began to roll from the docks of the town, and began to overtake the town. This was unlike anything they had seen previously, it was not similar to the Mists at all. The smell of salt, sweat, rotted wood and rum fill the air. Through this strange fog, several rowdy, otherworldly voices shouted out into the sky..
“The skipper lay with his nob in gore
Where the scullion's axe his cheek had shore
And the scullion he was stabbed times four
And there they lay, and the soggy skies
Dripped down in up-staring eyes
In murk sunset and foul sunrise
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.”
The maddening dreams, the thick fog, and the singing voices have not stopped for days. However, now on the horizon towards the shore where new ships normally come in, one can make out a tall mast, adorned with torn, battered.. Black sails..

Quartermaster Septima, Raven Cleric

Captain Astrid of the Blue Horizon Exploration Company, Road Priestess

~OOG Tiffany AHC
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