Tarl

As he takes the small dinghy out towards Hullbreak, his thoughts return, as they always do, to the day his mentor died. The day Hullbreak went mad.

However, much as his mind would like to wander down those dark paths, it’s difficult to get a proper brood going. For starters, Teemo is with him this time, and the Voice is enjoying the speed the small boat makes across the waves, thanks to the enchantment.

His presence also reminds Tarl that a lot has happened since the last time he made this trip out here. Thedeim has grown incredibly quickly, and been an impossible boon to the town… and to himself, if he’s honest. He might affect an air of detached optimism when inspecting, but that’s more thanks to his training and experience, rather than how he actually feels… or felt, rather.

The day at Listor’s grave was like alcohol on a wound: not exactly pleasant, but a good start towards actual healing. This inspection will be another step towards that, too. He doesn’t doubt Teemo when he says Hullbreak is making a genuine effort towards being delveable again. It’s just… there’s a lot of dust on how he and the watery dungeon interact. It’ll be difficult to get used to doing things in a new way.

Even now, he finds himself slowing the boat and preparing to heave the anchor over the side, though this time he does so under the curious gaze of a rat who’s far too smart to still be an ordinary rat. The splash of the anchor is echoed by the splash of the First Mate bringing her head above the gentle waves.

Tarl clears his throat before speaking, falling back on the way he’s greeted the shark scion dozens of times. “The Dungeoneer's Guild would ask the Voice if delvers will be able to delve in peace.”

Instead of a hard look and firm refusal, the First Mate actually looks… uncertain as she speaks. “The Captain doesn’t know if he can promise it, but he dearly wishes it. Come, Inspector. Much has changed.”

Tarl just stares at her for a few moments, uncertain what to do now the well-trodden path must be abandoned. The First Mate doesn’t look like she quite knows what to do, either, until Teemo speaks up.

“Well, weigh anchor! Or draw anchor? Pull the stupid thing up and let’s do this.”

Tarl shakes himself and gets to pulling the anchor back up, and Teemo takes the chance to help the elf back into his inspection.

“You’re gonna try some fishing first, yeah?”

At his nod, the First Mate speaks again. “The eastern part of the Captain should be the best for that. The fish spawners are away from the enclave and reefs, so anchors shouldn’t be a hazard to those below.”

With the anchor soon back in the boat, Tarl pulls out his note-taking stone and speaks to it. “Entrance granted, inspection will proceed. Hullbreak’s Voice is guiding, along with Thedeim’s voice as an observer. Will attempt fishing before attempting a more in-depth inspection.”

The two Voices exchange a glance at the formality, but he doesn’t explain further. The rigidity helps him concentrate, helps him keep his mind focused on now, rather than years ago. He follows the shark to the designated fishing area, before getting the boat secured and getting out his tackle. He was never very good at fishing, but a few enchantments on some lures helps cover that weakness.

Teemo looks out over the expanse of blue, his ear twitching for a few seconds, before he looks to the First Mate and speaks up. “The Boss says we should make some buoys to help designate the fishing area. He might need to send some ratlings out on an expedition to try to build them on the shore somewhere. Wood will probably be easier than metal, Boss.”

Tarl returns his focus to his fishing rod as he lands a fish, mostly ignoring the talk of how a proper buoy is made and secured. His first catch is a decent-sized silverscale, close to two feet long. He tosses it into his holding bag and resumes fishing, and soon adds two large copperfins before pulling out his stone once more.

“Fishing area is in the east, appears to have silverscales and copperfins.” He pauses and looks to the two Voices, who nod, and the First Mate speaks up before he continues.

“The Captain should also get goldfish eventually.”

Tarl nods at that and speaks into the stone again. “Voice confirms fish population, and indicates Hullbreak intends to invest more into fishing as well.” He tucks the stone away, and puts away his fishing gear before looking around.

“May I anchor near the gull spawner?”

The shark nods and motions for him to follow, and it doesn’t take long before they arrive at the small island, covered in gulls. He watches them as they take off, though they don’t seem interested in trying to fight him at the moment. He pulls out the stone once he has his boat secured.

“Inspecting gull spawner. Gulls don’t seem interested in combat, but not confirmed yet.” He trades the stone for his daggers as he explores the small island, and the large albatross scion stands at attention as he spots the elf, much to Tarl’s confusion. After a few seconds, he switches back to the stone and speaks as he walks back towards the boat.

“Little of interest on the gull island. Recommend leaving it alone, as it is the roost of the albatross scion.”

“The Admiral wishes to build a lighthouse here, eventually, and have crab and gull encounters,” informs the First Mate, which Tarl nods at.

“It’s a good plan. Most delvers who would want some combat won’t be able to get much. Potions of the Sea are difficult to come by.” Of course, he has several. He can’t expect to give a proper inspection without them, can he. He pulls one from a belt pouch and downs it, before pulling out the stone once more.

“Potion of the Sea consumed, proceeding with inspection.” Stone secured, he dives into the salty water. Only the First Mate follows, which earns her a curious look.

“Ah… the Admiral’s Voice forgot to bring his water breathing potion. He intends to return with it, but doesn’t want to slow your duty, inspector.” She looks as uncomfortable being without the rat as Tarl is, but the elf doesn’t let that stop him.

He simply nods and continues to dive deeper, and records his observations as he does. “Crab denizens confirmed, appear to be melee focused. Will be difficult for most delvers. Engaging.”

He swims down towards a stout looking crab and draws his daggers. The crustacean clacks his claws in challenge and scuttles closer, and Tarl dodges a few swipes. He can feel how sluggish he is in the water, but thankfully crabs aren’t exactly known for their grace. Tarl wishes he had more attacks that would be appropriate for under the waves, and resolves to brush up on that part of his training. He does at least have some answer for this. Shadows lick along his blades for a moment before he stabs them both forward.

“Murky strike!” Twin lances of darkness skewer the crab, and it manages a few weak clacks of its claws before going down. Tarl quickly removes the two large claws to put into his bag, before speaking once more to his stone.

“Crabs are resilient, and the water makes it difficult to bring to bear most attacks. Piercing techniques still work well.” He glances at the First Mate to see if she has anything else to add, but she looks lost in thought. With no guidance, he decides to wander, though he stays away from the west. The merfolk enclave should lay in that direction, and he intends to speak with them after the rest of the inspection is finished, to see what relationship they wish to have with the land dwellers.

The central portion of the dungeon is full of various nodes and life, and he can’t help but feel a pang of sadness at seeing what was lost with the tragedy of so long ago. He tries to distract himself with gathering, pulling out the various tools as needed from his bag of holding. Once he’s sampled enough, he pulls out the stone. “Central areas appear to be focused on gathering. Various kelps and other herbalism nodes abound, as do coral and mining nodes. Have spotted at least two clam beds for potential pearling, too.”

As he puts the stone away, he notices the First Mate has wandered off at some point, which leaves him with mixed feelings. Her presence and absence both stir warring emotions, but he does his best to put them aside for now as he heads west, towards the merfolk enclave. Along the way, he spots a dense field of kelp, with armed merfolk swimming around it. At first, he wonders if that’s the enclave, but swimming up shows there to be no bare area in the center for an actual enclave to live. He makes a mental note of it as he continues west, and soon finds the enclave, as well as the wayward Voice of Hullbreak.

Most of the merfolk are staying well back, though one that looks to be a High Priest seems to be waiting by the scion, watching Tarl approach. He stops outside the enclave, not stepping into their territory yet, and speaks.

“Enclave of Hullbreak. The Dungeoneer’s Guild would ask what relationship you wish to have with those above the waves.”

The merman glances at the First Mate, then speaks. “Our Beloved Captain wishes peace between us, and we are more than happy to echo His desire.” He looks at Tarl, then back at the First Mate before continuing. “However… there is an old matter that still clouds these waters. Come, inspector. Be welcome in our enclave, and swim with me, that the path can be made clear once more.”

Tarl is glad the lump in his stomach only feels like lead, so that it can’t weigh him down as he swims forward to join the priest and the scion. The merman leads the way, and soon speaks once more.

“The Tragedy. Many lives were lost. Our way of life was lost. We even feared our Captain was lost. In the aftermath, he was inconsolable in his grief, and yet we tried. We tore down the old reef that held the trading post, and built a memorial. The Captain even placed his core there, that he would not be far from their memories. We carved their names, so none could forget.”

He leads the two to the center of the enclave, where a large coral structure stands, and Tarl can see the names and icons of the lost: an underwater memorial.

The First Mate takes over as they continue to move towards it. “But… we have forgotten. More were lost than the Captain’s precious dwellers. In grief and rage, he lashed out. Only now does he understand it helped nothing. No, it only added to the Tragedy. So we need to add to the remembrance.”

Merfolk swim forward and add pieces of coral and smoothed stone, and the High Priest turns to give Tarl his full attention. “I know you won’t have all the names right now, inspector, but are there any that you would add now?”

After a few stunned seconds, Tarl slowly nods. It takes him more than one attempt, but he soon croaks out “Listor. Inspector Listor Greybrows.”