The Fisherfolk of Saltwich
A furtive and insular breed, their pallid skin damp with perpetual sea spray, their bulging eyes flickering with something not quite human.
The Abyssal Priesthood
Worshippers of the deep ones, their once-weak, landbound bodies blessed by the touch of the abyss.
The Sunken
Abominable Thralls of a brackish and spiteful god, lurking amongst the silted worm-mires of the coast.
5E-Ready Supplements
Doom Under Saltwich
Something ancient and hungry stirs beneath the cursed village of Saltwich. Investigate the disappearance of an Azerai friar, uncover the village’s horrifying secret, and face the abyssal horrors lurking in the deep.
Sunken Temple
The sea recoils, revealing the forgotten entrance to an abyssal temple, fortune-seekers and fools alike are drawn to its depths. Brave the sunken halls, uncover eldritch secrets, and face the horrors that have slumbered beneath the waves.
Nestled below the jagged cliffs of the Empire’s southern coast, the village of Saltwich clings to the land like a barnacle. Shrouded in fog and reeking of brine, it is a place best avoided - where the locals eye outsiders with silent suspicion, and travelers rarely linger.
The fisherfolk of Saltwich are a furtive and insular breed, their pallid skin damp with perpetual sea spray, their bulging eyes flickering with something not quite human. They speak in glottal tones, their voices thick with salt and secrecy, and barter with strange, glistening catches hauled from the depths, things that should not be. At night, the village stirs with the sound of wet, shuffling footsteps, and dim lights flicker beyond curtained windows as the townsfolk gather in hidden places, murmuring their reverence to the unseen masters of the deep.
Amidst the ever-churning tides of Doaden’s shores, an abyssal terror stirs beneath the waves. Vast and betentacled, it is a malevolent empire utterly alien to those who dwell above.
Below the surface, the known world gives way to an oppressive and infinite blackness, more akin to the void between the stars than anything of this earth. It is a realm without light, an emptiness that should be inimical to life. And yet, something dwells there.
The N’Gorroth, cephalopodic creatures shaped by the crushing depths, have lurked in the abyss since time immemorial. Ancient texts and dark rumors whisper of their presence, of entire towns vanishing into the sea, of colossal cyclopean ruins rising from the tides before sinking once more into oblivion.
Little is known of N’Gorrothi culture, if such a word can even be applied to beings so alien. But across the few recovered artifacts and salt-crusted tablets dredged from the ocean floor, one name appears again and again, the Deep Ones. Whether these entities are gods, progenitors, or something far worse remains unknown. Some claim the Roilsea Corsairs know more of the N’Gorroth, but those who sail beyond the horizon guard their secrets well.
