Episode: Gyre Straits, Come the Fleet
Posted by Story on 03/21/18
As the armies return to Arx from Stormwall and Setarco, the last of the rolls of the dead are counted. Fully half the Compact's deployed forces lost in Setarco. Three quarters of those who went to Stormwall died. And Darkwater was lost - and now much like Stormwall, is razed. There is nothing left - no docks, no buildings - just sheer destruction. Even the lighthouse is destroyed - and only the gates of the Redoubt kept the fortifications from crumbling entirely in the force of whatever firestorm rolled across Darkwater. It is eerily reminiscent of Blackshore, but no strange sightings were noted. It is a time of loss, and a time of mourning - but a time for new beginnings. For new hope. A time to rebuild.
And the Darkwater? The Darkwater is shrinking. In fact, the Darkwater as Arx has known it in recorded memory... is gone. Most days. It comes and goes and is now unpredictable in its location - sometimes off the shores of Tyde. Other times off the shores of Maelstrom, or Arx, or Setarco, or somewhere completely different, like it sails on a tide that no one knows. And now it is more often red rather than black.
But now that it is gone (most days) from where it has rested for a thousand years, in its place a shining spire reaches into the sky - a beautiful, twisting staircase in the center of four columns of shining white marble with veins of gold, and a platform on top with an ancient-looking symbol as a mural on the floor. When a particularly brave (or foolhardy) sailor ventures to sail toward it, they can see a huge city in the dark depths beneath the waves. And yet sometimes they spot a patch of red in the water - bloodwater washing up to the surface, and a huge tentacle sliding forth out of it, reaching this way and that in search of something.
Time to rebuild indeed. And time enough to be wary.
And the Darkwater? The Darkwater is shrinking. In fact, the Darkwater as Arx has known it in recorded memory... is gone. Most days. It comes and goes and is now unpredictable in its location - sometimes off the shores of Tyde. Other times off the shores of Maelstrom, or Arx, or Setarco, or somewhere completely different, like it sails on a tide that no one knows. And now it is more often red rather than black.
But now that it is gone (most days) from where it has rested for a thousand years, in its place a shining spire reaches into the sky - a beautiful, twisting staircase in the center of four columns of shining white marble with veins of gold, and a platform on top with an ancient-looking symbol as a mural on the floor. When a particularly brave (or foolhardy) sailor ventures to sail toward it, they can see a huge city in the dark depths beneath the waves. And yet sometimes they spot a patch of red in the water - bloodwater washing up to the surface, and a huge tentacle sliding forth out of it, reaching this way and that in search of something.
Time to rebuild indeed. And time enough to be wary.