The fish men came for their fish priest,
to pay him back in kind for his seafood feast
When you watch tentacles burst forth from your own flesh
You know revenge is a dish best served fresh,
He took away their humanity, his death would be their honours
Although they weren’t quite prepared for his newfound sponsors
They met a party of five on a mission, administering him some care.
A party of five WITCHHUNTERS. Well that hardly seems fair.
Kvothe flamed on. He was not about to be killed by calamari
Each blast of magical fire put another prawn on the barby
Arminius sliced and diced, for the Empire, and for fun
Learning the simple pleasure of turning mutants into chum
Graille took the priests punishment for him, and could only ask for more
He kept his grip on Herr Hect, playing priest tug of war
Murk had found a stein and barely registered the approaching peril
He simply held down his trigger. Like fish in a barrel.
Ariana arrived just in time to reel it in, but couldn’t get into the brig
The mutant bouncer blocking the way was, I swear, THIS big
The patrons hadn’t come for the freaks, and wouldn’t stay for the food
When there’s blood in the water, getting out is perhaps considered shrewd
The tavernkeep just took cover, repeating “we don’t want no trouble”,
He hid behind the bar surreptitiously pouring himself doubles
A bard played Greensleaves, while the waiters prayed
Ariana suffered pincer attacks but the Dwarf pegged her a Gatorade
Still the creatures managed to wrest the Priest of Mannan outside
They dragged him overboard and unfortunately it was… high tide.
His screams bubbled up as he was pulled down to meet Davey Jones
With the weight of the mutant upon him he sank like a stone
Graille curried favour for his salvation, and there was a light in the dark
Herr Hecht began to glow beneath the waves, so the party disembarked.
Diving after the monstrous creature and cutting off his tentacle limb.
Fortunately after Geheimsnacht most of the party can now more or less swim.
With nearly every mutant dead or dying, bar one, the one that got away.
They rescued the drunk, justly paranoid priest just before he was filléted.
They took stock of the bar, and, well, look, it was already a wreck.
Witchhunter business everyone! Nothing to see here! Might want to scrub the deck.
So how many taverns have been totalled by the party? There’ve been so many bar room fights.
Mansions and Memories? It should be called Inns and Amnesia, am I right?
The Brimstone Club, The Red Moon, Rugger’s Boarding House, A Billion Hens, Twin Anvils, The Hub and now The Drowned Sorrows,
There is an insurance salesman out there somewhere who’s brow is thoroughly furrowed
Anyway the party leaves Murk to his drink and pulls the Priest from the water’s edge
To ask, how exactly, in the year 2517, can a river be dredged?
Unhelpful and afraid, bleeding everywhere, and also still drunk.
Herr Hecht wailed and moaned. Perhaps understandably, he was in quite a funk.
Ariana realised she left something back at the tavern, tsk, just completely forgot!
I’ve heard that “forgetting stuff” has been being going around recently, believe it or not.
She slips away, they forge on ahead, to find a sanctuary for their ship-shocked cleric.
They could literally put him up in a hotel room. But nah that’s too generic.
The Church of Sigmar! The safest place! You know the party should really drop in more.
The sound of the hymns nicely compliments the screams from the town hall next door.
The market square presents quite a scene. All the scribes have closed up shop.
Not for lack of business clearly. The square’s littered by lost souls dismayed with the work stop.
Can you read? What does mine say? What do I need to recall?
The scribes just left! I don’t know where my son is! Can you read this scrawl?
As one the crowd turn on Graille as they realise he can read and write
Another mystery to solve! They dumped the Herr Hecht with the Sigmarites
The Priest of Sigmar, Herman, was accommodating if a bit obsequious
They were invited in for psalms but, right now, with everything, it sounded a bit tedious.
Graille did some drive by consoling and got the desperate ones to calm down
They hopped to, hot on the trail, direction: vaaaaguely uptown
The docks, check there for the scribes. Maybe they’re trying to leg it.
They pass by Crazy Hassans! Have I got a deal for you? Not now? Oh your pardon, I beg it.
The docks hold only Cedric on the Greedy Bitch. Have you seen George, his second mate?
He went into town, supposed to be back by now, he was delivering the last of the freight.
Meanwhile! Ariana had returned to the Inn, back on the hunt for Clerk Weigal,
Someone was watching her, but it might just have been a seagull.
No sign of Murk so actually, it’s probably just him.
Ariana asked around for the Clerk and got only blank grins.
The barkeep was helpful enough when she reminded him of her hat.
He seemed overly interested and joined Ariana and the clerk for their “chat”
Ariana asked to see the manager and he sent back an invitation for her.
Something was definitely fishy, and it wasn’t the pile of dead guys in the corner.
Bumbo Weiss, an imposing figure, was the proprietor of this joint.
He flattered Ariana’s martial prowess, and asked if she’d help him make a point.
He promised answers, it’s just this pit fighter, they say he can’t be slain by any man.
Well never send a man to do a lady Elf’s job. Kill him, and Bumbo will tell you what he can.
Psh. Easy. Arriana flipped into the arena and probably struck a pose.
Two arrows felled him. This is not her first rodeo, and it shows.
Bumbo Weiss then called down, hailing congratulations, the crowd roared the same
However, new challengers must also fight “The Beast”. I swear it’s only a stage name.
A gate was creaked open, and a huge rat emerged into the torch light
One eyed, hideous, half starved. Even on Skaven terms he was a pitiful sight
No less dangerous though, suicide to fight it one on one by yourself.
So clerk Weigal was duly dumped in aswell. He can do sums to help the elf!
Curses! So it was all just a ploy to get Ariana into the pit!
Oh to be so easily duped! If Murk were here he’d have a fit!
Neither the rat ogre nor Ariana were in a good state.
This was going to be a close run thing. Her life was up to fate.
She ducked and weaved, spat arrows and made for door number three.
She chose right and found a bucket of Schlaff tied to a rope that would lead to safety.
But as she climbed, at the last minute the Rat Ogre reached her with his vicious claws
They sliced deep into her flesh and poor Arriana crashed to the floor
And one bone chilling, terrifying thought might have occurred to her
before dropping into unconsciousness, but after being ripped down from the rope
She’s all alone, defenceless, bleeding out, in the filthy wet pit of a human city
Murk Dwemer is her only hope.