The Lake That Crooned
Hunger, memory, and the things we’re not meant to catch.
I arrived in Clarrow By-Water after three days on foot, a day by raft, and a morning where the fog took its time deciding. Stillmere, for one reason or another, doesn’t reflect the sky. The locals say it never did.
They didn’t warn me. They didn’t greet me. They just watched.
And listened.
Old Fellum sat on a warped bench near the dock. His eyes were the kind that still squint at shapes long gone.
He wasn’t entirely wrong.
But forgetting and leaving something alone are not the same thing.
“They say it hums on still mornings—like a string pulled tight.
Funny thing is, it only ever hums right before the quiet gets broken.”
—Griswold Cain
The Setting
Clarrow By-Water
A fogbound village on the edge of Stillmere. Its low houses lean against the wind, its docks rarely touched. No one buys harpoons anymore. Locals say less than they mean, but always seem to be listening.
Stillmere Lake
Dark, landlocked, and unnaturally still. No birds nest near it. No reeds grow at its edge. They say it hums in the morning if the air’s too still—and if it does, someone always goes missing.
The Premise
Something lives in Stillmere. Not native. Not ordinary. An old aquatic predator called the Bolligrex Urmlock—or Drangle—brought here decades ago for reasons most have forgotten. Now, for the first time in years, there’s talk of raising it.
A fungal rot is spreading through nearby towns. Eshka Vale, Clarrow’s herbalist, believes the Drangle’s bile may be the key to stopping it. She’s not the only one who remembers how to lure it.
And she’s not the only one who wants it surfaced.
The Pull of the Lake
Three locals hold keys to the encounter:
- Old Fellum lost his brother to the lake—or so he believes. He wants to catch the creature, not out of anger, but certainty. He remembers the bait. He remembers the sound.
- Eshka Vale believes the Drangle is protecting something deeper. Her father brought it here—she’s not sure why—but she knows there’s more than one.
- Dirrick Maud, Fellum’s rival, arrives with a modified bait recipe and a loud mouth. He wants glory. He’s reckless. And he’s already set his line.
The party may come seeking the cure, responding to rumors, or simply passing through. Either way, Stillmere watches. And something beneath it remembers.
Drawing It Up
The bait isn’t magical. That’s the worst part. It never needed to be.
Just moss oil. Blood-rich cutbait. Silence. Weighted just right. Dropped before dawn.
If the players fish, they have choices:
- Fellum’s Bait — quiet and subtle. The Drangle rises without aggression. It observes. It remembers.
- Dirrick’s Bait — sharp, pulsing. Two Drangles surface. One is confused. The other, not so much.
Not all who come to fish survive it. And the lake does not reward repetition.
The Paths That Follow
If they kill it:
The bile helps. The sick are saved. But the lake begins to change. The reef dims. Fungal life withers. Something below stirs.
If they observe:
The Drangle surfaces at dusk, silent and ancient. It may leave behind a scale or a relic. The lake stays calm. But it watches.
If they work with Eshka:
The players may attempt a ritual of resonance—stillness, not control. If successful, the Drangle hums. The sound activates spores in nearby flora. Eshka distills a cure. No blood spilled.
If they dive for a scale:
Molted scales carry a trace resonance. One lies deep within the reef. If recovered without disturbing the nest, it can be ground into a salve.
If they offer something else:
The players may give up a memory, a truth, a relic. In return, the lake blooms with healing spores. But they leave changed.
Below the Surface
The reef pulses in slow rhythm. Blind fish drift through bioluminescent kelp.
Drangles swim in silent circles—always counterclockwise.
Beneath the reef: a stone ring carved with glyphs.
Eshka’s father called it the Woundwall.
A scar sealed by presence. A lock kept by rhythm.
Further down, beneath coral and stone, lies a smooth round slab.
It might be a door.
It might be worse.
If They Return
If the Drangle was slain:
The reef begins to rot. Stillmere chills. Villagers downstream report hearing deep, bell-like tones from empty wells. The door below cracks. But does not open.
If the ritual succeeded:
The Drangles remain. They surface once a day, silently, just to watch.
If the players carry glyphs or scales, water near them begins to react—rivers hum, ponds ripple without wind.
If nothing was done:
One week later, Fellum disappears. His bench is found empty, with a single deep gouge in the wood. Then, a letter arrives from a distant town. No sender.
Inside: a scale. Still wet.
Relics and Residue
- Stillmere Scale (Item): Warm to the touch. Lets the bearer breathe underwater—but they can no longer speak above it.
- Drangle Bone Harpoon: Returns when thrown, unless it hits something “meant to remain.”
- Woundwall Glyph Fragment: Pulses faintly near lakes. Some say it responds to moonlight or sound.
- Coral Sample (Rare): Grows slowly in dark glass. May house dormant spores or an echo of the hum.
“It was never about the fish.
It was about who remembered to feed it.
And who knew what would happen if it sang too loud.”
