Blood, Plunder and D&D

  As Whisperleaf leaned over to look into the pool in the basement of the lighthouse, the shadowy water reached out, like a giant hand, and grabbed him.  Like a vise made of inky cold, it lifted him up off his feat and drew him into the pool. The other members of the party, who were busy searching the room for secret doors, whirled as they heard his strangled scream, but most were too far away to help.  The Sturg was the only one close enough, and alert enough, to intercede. He bounded over toward the druid, drawing his sword. But the water moved fast. Whisperleaf had a chance to choke out a spell, attempting to burn his enemy, but to no avail, the water snuffed out his fire. The Sturg tried to make a grab for him, but he was too far and had to settle for striking at the black surge with his sword.  Welkin, the Sword of Andronicus, bit deeply but then both Whisperleaf and the Shadow Elemental were gone, down into the darkness of the deep deep well. Whisperleaf was cold, choking and tra

  "These statues look strange" said Ricmo.. "I'm not sure what they are made of but it isn't stone, too smooth and shiny for that." "Some kind of pottery I think" said Whisperleaf.  "The artistic style is different from any I've seen" said Freddy. "From what I remember, the Lucky Gods originally came from far far away to the west. Past Mbo even, to lands that are only legends in Mythras." "Well be that as it may, the Navigator seemed to think that an offering is in order, and we could use all the luck we can get" commented Dakhir. "So how does this work exactly?" He turned toward Whisperleaf. "How would I know? We worship Nature, we don’t huddle around in strange little stone houses playing with goat entrails. Don’t hold much with deities in general for that matter." Whisperleaf replied. "No offense of course" directed randomly at the fattest of the statues. The statue did not seem to