Dram clung to the rock like a wet rag. His halfling frame was a deathly bluish pale that shivered violently as the surf crashed against his back, over and over again. The waters off the coast of Baldur's Gate gave no comfort however. Their weight was unforgiving and no warmth was to be found in their perpetual embrace.
For what felt like hours, this stalwart hin slowly squirmed his way up the dark crag surrounding the malevolent structure before him; the House of Umberlee. The rope fetters that bound his wrists and ankles cut raw wounds into his skin. His jaw throbbed menacingly where Scab had struck him with that hammer....
When was that? Yesterday?
Time was lost to him. His muscular limbs, though restrained, ached from exertion. An ache beyond aches. Dram writhed on... on and up towards....
Safety? Almost there...
The tall woman regarded him with a gaze of acidic welcome and as Dram glanced up she spoke; her voice rising above the raging surf.
"You there." The priestess pointed with a wand of white spiraling shell as sea spray whirled about her legs clad in skin-tight blue stocking.
Suddenly, a horde of tiny crabs scuttled out from dark niches in the rock, pinching and cutting at the ropes that bound him, nipping his flesh as readily as they bit the hemp. As he stretched out his limbs to support himself the crabs scurried off just as quickly as they had appeared.
"Who are you?"
Her tone was demanding and carried the same chill the waters did.
Who am I? His blue lips quivered as he tried desperately to form a mumbled reply.
"They call me Shrimp." His eyes slammed shut as his broken jaw worked the words free of his battered mouth. His hands clenched alarmingly tight. The pain in his face made his stomach spasm and he fell limp. Brine and bile poured from his mouth.
Mercy
"Shrimp?" Her dark eyes searched the ocean's horizon for sign of the mentioned 'they'. Her gaze lingered on the several trade vessels near the city's docks a moment before returning their fix back upon him. Her shoulders were broad and muscled from years of swimming. Her cape of sickly blue-green flapped in the coastal wind. "Know what a shrimp is?"
Dram was done with chatting. The taste of blood and seawater made him sick and dizzy. Mercy, great Queen.... You've had your fun with me. Now let me sleep. A pair of acolytes gathered him roughly and dragged him up towards more stable ground outside the great flotsam walls of the Temple. The halfling's face was frozen in a grimace of agony.
"I asked you a question, little man."
Dram lifted his eyes up to her, his jaw swollen and horribly bruised. Steadying his breath, he whimpered an answer, "Mercy."
I'm broken. My shell is breached and my pearl is no more.
One of the acolytes, a raven-haired girl with thin lips and an up-turned nose, chuckled mirthlessly. The high priestess's mouth twitched an agreeing smirk. "Oh you'll find no mercy here." She eyed his jaw. "You have not come to a house of healing, little man." Her gaze moved to the tattoo on the side of his neck; that of a cruel trident gripped by a scaled and webbed hand. "As you are no doubt aware."
"A sea bug." Dram winced as he muttered.
"Hm?" A feminine brow arched briefly. "Ah.... and are you a bug?" She held his strong sinewy arms in her hands as if appraising bolts of fine Amnish silk. "No... you've the look of a predator." The other two, now joined by an armored dour-faced man carrying a halberd, looked on with eyes of hard scrutiny.
"You will be called Squid."
Her eyes still hard upon him, "Chimaera, take our new swimmer inside."
"Aye, Wavemistress." The tall human male, in armor of ocean blue, hoisted the halfling upside down by a bleeding ankle and hauled him away. Squid, feeling the meeting had come to a close, yielded to unconciousness.
