Shadows Beneath the Surface: The Aboleth Attack on Lake Encarthan

As the Starweaver’s Oath glides onward through the treacherous, silvery waters of Lake Encarthan, an uneasy hush settles over the vessel. The mist thickens, clinging damply to the rails and shrouding the moon’s reflection in rippling veils. Somewhere in the distance, the hoot of a lone night bird is abruptly cut off, swallowed by the oppressive silence.

Without warning, the calm is shattered. The surface of the lake erupts in a boiling whirl, sending up a spray of brackish water. Out from the churning depths, two elite aboleths surge forth—ancient, sinuous creatures whose slick, iridescent hide catches the lantern light in monstrous hues. Their eyes, cold and multifaceted, glimmer with an alien intelligence as they coil around the fragile hull, tentacles questing and mouths parting to reveal rows of glistening teeth.

Water sloshes onto the deck as the crew scrambles to steady themselves, the Starweaver’s Oath bucking beneath them. Taut with fear and awe, they watch as the aboleths’ psychic whispers fill the air—visions of drowned empires and forgotten bargains flooding their minds. The creatures strike in silent unity, tentacles lashing.

With each heave and crash, the boundary between nightmare and reality blurs, the lake itself seeming to conspire with the aboleths’ will.

Wreck and Awakening on the Shores of Erages

After the combat, the ship is just a wreckage and has to go to the coast as quickly as possible, disembarking the heroes on the shores next to the elven village of Erages.

After the brutal encounter, the Starweaver’s Oath is left battered and listing dangerously, its hull scarred and timbers splintered from the aboleths’ relentless assault. Rainwater and lake brine pool across the deck, mingling with loose ropes and shards of lantern glass, as the exhausted crew works feverishly to keep the vessel afloat. The air vibrates with the fading echo of psychic screams—an afterimage of the aboleths' alien song lingering in every trembling hand and haunted eye.

Realizing the ship cannot withstand another onslaught, the captain gives the desperate order to change course and seek the nearest shore. Oars are manned, torn sails are patched as best as possible, and the vessel limps through the mist-choked waters, guided by the pale light of dawn and the battered resolve of those aboard. Land emerges at last: a stretch of wild, reed-choked shoreline, thick with dew and the scent of unfamiliar blossoms. The crew hastily moors what remains of the Starweaver’s Oath, and the heroes disembark amidst the chirring of hidden insects and the distant, musical call of woodland birds. The elven village of Erages lies just beyond the rise, its slender towers and silver-leafed trees promising sanctuary and perhaps, answers to the mysteries now trailing the survivors like persistent shadows. Though the lake’s horrors are left behind, the sense of unease lingers—every wave on Encarthan’s surface still whispering of bargains unbroken, destinies unfulfilled, and challenges yet to come.