Battling with some kind of spirited ooze from the Plane of Fire reinforced Padraig’s sage suspicion that here the barriers between worlds was thin.A collapsing ceiling drove the party north (or so the Seeker surmised) into a cool side passage where a weary attempt at rest was made upon the wet cold stones of the underground waterway.
Rest was difficult, for a scavenging mollusk happened by, questing tentacles reaching out for the limbs of Blackwolf. Another shell to be cracked.
Exploration lead to another crossroads, east towards smells and sentiments of sulfur? Or west, in salty fog, down stairs laden with the smell of rotting seaweed and encrusted with the icthyic barnacles of the stonemason’s hand.
The Brothers choose to turn west, back towards the heart of the city. Dark stairs lead down, but improbably, a draft of fresh air was smelt. An empty temple and tomb was discovered, the vaulted rooms were dedicated to placating the denizens of the ocean deeps, and it seemed to have seen recent use. Muddy spore lead the tracker through a hidden door and up a narrow stair.
The pulsing roar of the seashore was heard, for the temple abutted onto a hidden strand of beach on a great sea cave guarded by a spire of rock. Such a place could never be entered by ship. A narrow tidal beach revealed another winding stair offering egress from this oceanic grotto.