The cold was a tenacious bitch and still slapped the air with halting severity, but the turmoil that raged the Trackless Sea had abated.
The West Watch was once again stage to the theater of combat.
The plesiosaurs had been washed away along with their Umberlee riders; their cries to the bitch queen forever silenced. The former Agundar Talos guards- warrior zealots- were at the moment meeting their end at the hands of Eva’s summoned undead.
Upon these sands, the Samular Company of Seven took two more steps up the celestial staircase.
From farther north, where the sea meets the stone edifice and Waterdeep’s cliff wall; dozens of strange hair-less individuals were flooding into the ocean. They were intent in purpose. Unclothed save for a wide riveted belt; each carried large tridents with tips that flicker like light of the surface of water.