Go to Part 1

The agents of the so-called Thieves’ Guild of the North, known as krakenar, identify themselves through the secret mark of a purple squid with an incredible number of tentacles. (The number and styling of the tentacles, perhaps encouraged by the decentralized structure of the Society, has actually shifted over time and in different places. This is not an intentional variation, but those who are deeply familiar with the krakenar may be able to identify the origin of a particular instance of their sign.) It would be a mistake, however, to think of the Kraken Society as purely a bunch of thieves. They are skilled spies and information brokers, with their services often being sought even by legitimate powers. The krakenar thus include highwaymen, merchants, adventurers, and more. Anyone with the right skills or in the right place may be welcomed in the tentacles’ embrace.

In fact, the Kraken Society can often abide in these legitimate, mutually beneficial relationships for years. The krakenar refer to this as the “low tide,” getting their foot in the door by selling valuable information, using their newly privileged position to gain access to more information, rinse, wash, repeat.

What the krakenar are looking for is the “crack in the seawall” (which they may refer to in slang simply as a “crack” or “buckling”); a weakness in the existing systems of power which can be exploited. When they find it, the tide comes in.

Operating at “high tide,” a krakenar cell will use all of its illicit knowledge, covert skills, and criminal resources to disrupt the targeted government or organization. They may attempt to destroy the entire institution, but it’s more common for them to target specific individuals. When the leadership has been crippled or wiped out, the krakenar agents who silently infiltrated the organization during low tide simply slip into the power vacuum. It’s not unusual for krakenar agents to enter power promising to end a threat that was created by the Society in the first place, ensuring acclaim as they rapidly “solve” the problem.

ORGANIZATION

The Kraken Society is cell-based. Each city or region is controlled by a Lieutenant, and although the various regional cells cooperate with each other when it’s beneficial, each is operated as an independent organization and has deliberately limited contact. The local structures of the cells are not proscribed, and can vary greatly (although they tend to value secrecy and usually reflect the Society’s general cell-based methodology).

The inner circle of the Society, which consists of the Lieutenants and a handful of other senior members (called Followers), refers to itself as the coterie. The coterie is privy to the inner mysteries of the cult, which feature a highly mythologized “truth” about the Kraken of the Purple Rocks: They believe themselves to be the servitors of the King of the Trackless Depths (Slarkethrel), who is destined to regain the lost hegemony of the kraken empire which once ruled the seas of Toril. Those who advance further into the mystery perform rites which forge a communion (or supposedly do) with the kraken psychopomps who escaped their empire’s destruction within the sanctuaries of the abyssal rifts.

Those becoming Lieutenants travel to the Purple Rocks, where the Heralds of the Deep indoctrinate them through a series of strange rites. Lieutenants who earn great honor may even be invited to Ascarle.

Most krakenar agents, however, are not part of the coterie and just think of themselves as being part of a criminal organization. Even further out on the periphery is the vast web of front organizations which serve the Society’s will without most of their members or employees ever knowing they are part of it.

CURRENT CELLS

Waterdeep/Skullport: The Skum Lord is an aboleth which lairs beneath Skullport. It has quietly spent centuries inexorably expanding its influence within the Port of Shadows, creating a network of telepathically linked agents strategically placed in the nexus of the underworld. Information flows through Skullport, and the Skum Lord skims his take.

Those long-enthralled to the Skum Lord can be noted by their pale, translucent skin. Known by some as the “pale servitors,” they can be seen moving throughout Skullport and, increasingly, the city above. (The Skum Lord used to have a surface counterpart who served as the lieutenant of Waterdeep, but this hasn’t been true in decades. Slarkethrel’s resurgence in recent years has prompted the Skum Lord to become more active in expanding the Society’s presence in Waterdeep. His agents had some success doing business with Lord Neverember’s administration, but have been disappointed by Laeral Silverhand. It’s uncertain whether the Skum Lord wants to expand his base of power, or if he would be happier finding a new Waterdhavian lieutenant.)

In Skullport, the Skum Lord is also rumored to own forty percent or more of the city’s buildings. Each month the pale servitors come to collect their rent: Sometimes they ask for money. Sometimes they ask questions.

Yartar: Yartar was once the primary center of power for the Kraken Society, but in the late 14^th century the Harpers and the Waterbaron systematically broke their power and drove them out of the city. The Society has only returned to Yartar within the last few years.

• Ghald (sahuagin) and Unferth (male Tethyrian human priest) are partners jointly in charge of Society business in the Dessarin Valley. Their approach has been to recruit powerful, ambitious individuals who already have existing power bases and simultaneously turn them towards myriad schemes. Their theory is that they can easily jettison the failures and consolidate the victors into a larger organization. The actual organization that Ghald and Unferth have reporting directly to them now can actually be described only generously as skeletal, but they’ve managed to project to most of the people they’re working with the illusion that the Society is a monolithic force. (Princes of the Apocalypse, p. 210)
• Lord Khaspere Drylund, one of Yartar’s nobles, is a member of the society and spearheading an effort to replace Ruthiol as the city’s Waterbaron. Drylund notably owns and operates the Grand Dame, a riverboat gambling casino. (Storm King’s Thunder, p. 216)

The Hand of Yartar is an all-female thieves’ guild in Yartar which was actually founded as a front organization for the Kraken Society. In the 14^th century it was led by Semmonemily, a doppelganger who assumed the identity of the Hand’s guildmistress, Emily Iramalac. When the Society was purged from Yartar, however, Semmonemily was killed. The remaining members of the Hand had no idea they’d been operating as part of the Kraken Society and no living connection to the organization. They’ve continued operating independently over the last century, and ironically are now one of the strongest opponents to the Kraken Society as the Society attempts to reassert its control of the underworld in Yartar.

Neverwinter: The Reefkin are a group of merfolk who have set up a commune under Neverwinter Harbor. The upper ranks of the Reefkin deliberately infect themselves with lycanthropy, allowing them to transform into wolves when they wish to pursue shoreside agendas.

The Reefkin have a familiar modus operandi among Slarkethrel’s cults: They rescue drowning sailors and, sometimes after showing them some underwater wonder or vision, deliver them to shore. They claim a life-debt from these sailors, however, and subtly coerce them into the Society.

(Do the Reefkin create their own supply of sailors-to-be-saved by covertly sinking ships with damage disguised to look as if they ran aground on the reefs? Of course they do.)

What happens next depends on circumstances: Some can be immediately forced to do terrible things. Others will be manipulated into countless small acts of treachery, each binding them closer to the Reefkin. The end goal is either recruitment, blackmail, or both.

The Reefkin are also known to have formed alliances with fey powers within Evernight, the dark reflection of Neverwinter which lies within the Shadowfell.

Thornhold: North of Waterdeep along the Sword Coast, Thornhold is an ancient fortress which was unwittingly built by the Margaster noble family directly below the caverns of Clan Stoneshaft in the Underdark below. Control of Thornhold has passed through numerous hands and its connections to the Stoneshaft dwarves have grown stronger (primarily due to a period in which Zhentarim slavers were oppressing and exploiting the dwarves).

Most recently, the Margasters have once again taken possession of Thornhold and forged a tentative alliance with the Stoneshaft dwarves: The Margasters protect the Stoneshaft interests, provide defense against surface threats, and facilitate trade relationships with the merchants of Waterdeep. The Stoneshaft dwarves benefit from having economic access to the wealth of the North; the Margasters reap a healthy profit from their role as middlemen.

There are those among the Stoneshaft dwarves, however, who resent the Margasters: They remember the past betrayals of other surface “allies” and they question what the humans are doing to justify “stealing” their wealth. That’s the sort of buckling that the Kraken Society looks for. A krakenar dwarf named Urnom Telrokak has been organizing disaffected Stoneshaft dwarves. What would be ideal is if the Kraken Society could place an agent within the Margasters, who could then be used to exacerbate the tensions between the two factions.

Caer Westphal: Caer Westphal is the capital of Snowdon, a small isle in the southeastern corner of the Moonshaes which was recently annexed by Amnian nobles. The Society has implanted itself among the native Ffolk of the island, characterizing themselves as a popular uprising.

They have an uneasy alliance with the Brothers of the Beast, another resistance group run by a druid named Heinrich Mucklepratt who can summon strange allies from the island’s moonwells. Their mutual efforts have forced Lady Erliza to openly reveal more and more of her dark powers, increasing tensions on the island.

Luskan: The City of Sails is worth mentioning here because, like Yartar, it was once a major center of power for the Kraken Society. The regional lieutenant here was actually a member of the High Captains who ruled the city, often turning Luskan’s extensive resources to the Society’s purposes. As in Yartar, however, the Society was purged in the late 14^th century. Recent efforts have attempted to find a toehold here, but so far Jarlaxle Baenre and the Bregan D’aerthe have been successful in stamping them out.

Addendum: A Brief Word on My Sources

One of the GM’s most fundamental skills is description. The GM’s words are, after all, the players’ window into the game world. While some performance-enhancing work-arounds do exist (pictures, miniatures, maps, etc.), the bulk of the heavy-lifting boils down to what the GM says and how they say it.

I’ve given general tips for crafting effective descriptions in the past, but if you’re looking to boil things down to some basic procedures, here are some simple formulas. (Our goal here will be to create descriptions that are efficient, effective, evocative, and also easy.)

DUNGEON ROOMS

For a dungeon room:

1. List every notable thing in the room and its position. (“Notable” here can be broadly understood as “thing the PCs will interact with / check out / will inform their actions.” Check out The Art of the Key if you want to delve deeper here.)
2. Use the Three of Five rule by dropping descriptive tags on some or all of the notable things. (In short: “Think about your five senses. Try to include three of them in each description.”)
3. If appropriate, add a verb. (Add action to the scene; e.g., instead of “there is a waterfall,” there is “a waterfall tumbles down the far wall.”)

For example, a room has:

• wardrobe
• bookshelf with arcane tomes
• a goblin

Use the formula to generate:

A horrid stench [smell] emanates from a wardrobe off to your left. On the opposite side of the room, there’s a bookshelf stuffed full [sight] of thick tomes and tightly wrapped scrolls. There’s a goblin pawing through the books on the shelf, knocking them to the ground [verb]. Seeing you, the goblin gapes its maw and screeches [sound].

NONPLAYER CHARACTERS

Whether improvising an NPC on the fly or prepping a Universal NPC Roleplaying template, you can use this formula:

1. An action.
2. What are they wearing?
3. One physical trait.

For example:

Lady Silva is wearing a beautiful blue dress [clothing] that compliments her sapphire eyes [physical trait]. She taps her finger thoughtfully on her chin while looking you up and down [action].

When using the Universal NPC Roleplaying Template, the NPC’s action may be drawn from the Roleplaying section of the template (i.e., the action may be the NPC’s common mannerism). But it doesn’t have to be. The key thing is that you’re establishing the NPC as someone living in the game world; you’re not describing their headshot, you’re establishing them in the scene.

MONSTERS

When encountering a monster:

1. Look at their abilities and attacks; describe how one or more of those are physically manifest.
2. Describe one non-ability-based physical trait. (Use ability scores as inspiration if you’re coming up dry.)
3. Add a verb.

Let’s pick some monsters at random and see how this plays out.

Hill Giant. They have a greatclub and a rock attack. Include the club in the description. You might mention that they’re standing near a pile of rubble (from which you can later describe them snatching up rocks to throw at interlopers). They’re a giant, so… they’re quite tall. (You don’t have to make this complicated.) What are they doing? Gnawing a bone, scratching their head, chatting amongst themselves, swatting giant flies swarming around their head? (Again, you don’t have to be particularly clever. Establish the idea and move into the scene.)

Revenant. One of their abilities is Vengeful Glare, so describe them as having eyes that burn with an eerie blue light. It’s undead and has 18 Charisma, so we can add that it’s an incredibly handsome figure with chalky gray-white skin. Simply add an action appropriate to the current scene.

(As with our other formulas, don’t get hung up on the order here. The description of the revenant, for example, can be: “A dark figure perched atop a rocky promontory, gazing out across the valley. The man’s features are handsome, but its eyes burn with an eerie blue light and its skin is a chalky gray-white.”)

Xenomorph. Their acid blood won’t be immediately obvious, but perhaps we could riff on the idea of bodily fluids by having their jaws slavering with some alien fluid. Their serrated tail whips back and forth, while the flickering fluorescent lights gleam off their black, chitinous exoskeleton.

A WORD ABOUT FORMULAS

Formulas are… well, formulaic. They’ll only take you so far, they can easily become repetitive, and it’s trivial to find examples where the generic formula will be a poor fit for the material. The role of these formulas is not to be the be-all or end-all of RPG descriptions. But if you’re stuck, you can use them as simple recipes to get your brain churning. In fact, you’ll often find that starting with a formula will quickly inspire you to spin out of the mold and create something completely different.

If it does?

Mission accomplished.

PERSISTENT DESCRIPTION

As you’re looking to expand beyond the simple formula, one thing to keep in mind is that description should persist throughout a scene.

I’ve mentioned in the past that the legacy of boxed text can condition GMs to think of description as something you only do at the beginning of a scene or when the PCs enter a room. But that’s an artificial limitation of published modules that you should try to move beyond as you’re running the game.

Add sensory details. You mentioned that there was broken glass on the floor [sight], but as the PCs move into the room you can add the description of the grass crunching under their boots [sound and touch]. The waterfall was described as roaring [hearing], but you can build on that by mentioning the cool mist it throws up [touch] or the fractured reflections of light dancing across the walls of the cave [sight].

Investigate to find new details. When the rogue heads over to check out the wardrobe, take the opportunity to describe the intricate carvings on its doors. After seeing Lady Silva for the first time they grab their drinks and head over to talk to her, and you can take the opportunity to add the color of hair as she turns to look at them.

In the case of a keyed dungeon room, this can actually be structured and prepped. Remember how we listed each notable thing in the room? When the PCs go to investigate or interact with a notable thing, that action simply triggers additional details.

Discover new things. In addition to finding new details about things you already know, the PCs may also discover entirely new things in the environment as they explore it. (What’s inside the wardrobe and causing that terrible smell?) Matryoshka techniques can be a powerful way of running this.

Introduce new elements. A cold wind blows through the cracked window. An otyugh shambles through the door. A police siren wails past the apartment building. A flickering hologram manifests in the center of the chamber. You don’t have to wait for the PCs to investigate to add something new to the scene. The world is a dynamic and active place.

Combine. All of these methods can be used in conjunction. Someone throws a rock with a note wrapped around it through the window. As Bryan goes to pick up the rock, describe the crunch of broken glass under his feet. The rock itself is black obsidian. As he pulls off the note, describe the texture of the vellum.

An image I find particularly evocative is to think of the description of the game world as being layered. You don’t have to exhaustively describe every single detail of an environment in one big glob of exposition. Make sure that the players have the key information they need to orient themselves and understand what’s happening; but then either peel back or add on (whichever visual analogy works better for you) additional layers of description as the scene plays out, slowly building up the mental image of the place like a painter laying down paint on their canvas.

EVOLVING MONSTER DESCRIPTIONS

Speaking of layers, here’s an extra tip when it comes to describing monsters.

The first time the players encounter a monster, you need to establish the monster’s basic visual image. (And you can use the formula described above to do that.) Once the players are familiar with a monster and are able to put a name to it – goblin, gelatinous cube, blood terror, little fuzzies, etc. — you don’t need to re-establish the monster’s basic description each time.

However, this can lead you into the trap of replacing evocative description with bland labels: “You see six goblins.”

What you usually want to do instead, once the players know what a monster is (when you can say “it’s a worg” instead of describing the worg), is to dig one layer deeper by customizing the monster.

These aren’t just six goblins; they’re six goblins dressed in opera dresses. This isn’t just a worg; it’s a worg with a bright red scar over its left eye. This yeti’s fur is matted and filthy. This ogre’s hair is tied up in a topknot. This ghoul’s left arm is broken; it’s hand flopping back and forth on a loose flap of sinew. This wraith wears an iron crown of Angorak.

When the PCs run into a mob, you don’t need to customize every single one of them. (And it’s usually counterproductive to do so.) As a rule of thumb, you’ll want to either customize one of them (it’s a group of yetis, and one of them is wearing a sapphire amulet) or focus on what’s notable about all of them (all of these yetis are missing a finger on their left hand).

(If you’re making one member of a group stand out, it will often be the leader. But this isn’t necessarily true. For example, one worg out of the pack might be limping and ostracized by the others.)

For humanoids, you might use the full formula for an NPC described above. But for monsters you often just need one salient detail to distinguish them.

Blood terrors are a pure extension of the Blood of the Beast. Their glistening bodies – with skin-less musculature defined by clotted coagulations – boil with a raw, powerful rage.

Legacy of Giants. Blood Terrors appear to be immortal, and are often found as tomb guardians in the cyclopean barrows of the Tyrannis Gígās (the Tyrant Giants). Long mistaken for some sort of transformation of the Tyrannis’ skyldur (their human serfs or chattel), the true nature of the Blood Terrors was rediscovered when the long-forgotten Idol of the Beast was recovered among the island kingdoms of the south.

Idol of the Beast. The idol once sealed the Beast’s connection to this world, but it was corrupted by the dream cults who still honored the old ways. The Idol became a conduit through which the Beast’s will could be made manifest and around which new cults could arise in dim memory of a primitive and bestial past.

Blood terrors can now be found in the wake of the Idol, serving the cultists who have performed the strange rites of creation/summoning which signify their loyalty to the Beast.

Creatures of Blood. Blood terrors “contain” a seemingly impossible amount of blood. It is perhaps more accurate to think of them as extrusions of the Blood of the Beast, pumping their way through the planar skein of reality. When their manifest forms are violated, their strange blood – which is paradoxically antithetical to natural life – is eager to spew out into our world.

BLOOD TERROR

Medium aberration, chaotic evil

---

Armor Class 17

Hit Points 94 (11d8+44)

Speed 30 ft.

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STR 16 (+3), DEX 12 (+1), CON 18 (+4), INT 10 (+0), WIS 14 (+2), CHA 10 (+0)

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Skills Acrobatics +4, Athletics +6

Damage Resistances acid, cold, fire

Damage Immunities poison

Senses passive Perception 15

Languages Giant, Issyl, telepathy 100 ft.

Challenge 5 (1,800 XP)

Proficiency Bonus +3

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Blood Blight. Once per day, the blood terror can exude a 20 ft.-radius mist of blood that lasts for 1d4 rounds. Non-evil creatures who enter the mist or who start their turn within the mist must make a DC 13 Constitution save or suffer 4d8 damage and gain the poisoned condition. (On a successful save, the damage is halved and the character does not suffer from the poisoned condition.)

Blood Spray. When the blood terror is injured, it releases a spray of blood that covers the ground in a 10-foot square centered on the blood terror. This operates as per a grease spell (DC 13) and lasts for 1 minute. Other creatures of the Beast are not affected by the blood spray.

ACTIONS

Multiattack. Blood terrors make two claw attacks.

Claw. Melee Weapon Attack: +6 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 10 (2d6+3) slashing damage.

Hundreds of parchment pages arranged in thick leather folders record an almost manic obsession with and study of dealing death to humanoids. Minute experimentation in dosage, placement of blows, and the like is exhaustively studied through what appear to be actual trials and experimentation.

Beyond that, the “subjects” of these trials appear to have been revivified through the arts of zombification on a vast scale. Hundreds of corpses were created, reanimated, and then exmorisected for an active study of undead tissue and simulated organ operation in the face of wounds and poisons.

Use of this research grants advantage to Medicine checks made to identify the cause of death for humanoids.

PRIME CORPSE

PRIME CORPSE
4^th level necromancy (Cleric, Wizard)

Casting Time: 1 minute
Range: 10 feet
Target: Up to four corpses or piles of bones within range
Components: V, S, M (one 100 gp black onyx stone for each corpse)
Duration: Instantaneous

Prime corpse allows you prepare a number of corpses or skeletons for animation using the animate dead spell (or similar method), making them easier for their animator to control. If and when these corpses become undead, each only counts as half an undead for the purposes of their creator commanding or controlling them. (Other characters seeking to command or control them do so normally.) This does not affect the number of undead created by the animate dead spell; only the number controlled.

For example, a normal casting of animate dead can allow the caster to control up to four zombies or skeletons that were previously created. If these undead had been targeted by prime corpse before their creation, their original creator would be able to control up to eight of them for each casting of animate dead (instead of the normal four).

The caster of prime corpse need not be the same caster as the one who animates the undead. Undead who are already animate are not affected by this spell; it must be cast on corpses prior to animation.

At Higher Levels: If cast with a 6^th level spell slot or higher, this spell has a similar effect on the targets of a create undead spell, although it requires 400 gp black onyx stone for each corpse.

Design Note: If the Romans had faced a zombie plague, they might have invented the word exmortuus to describe the undead (“mortuus” being the dead and “ex-” being from or out of; thus those come from or out of death). Much later, the same bloke who invented the word “vivisection” might have also invented “exmorisection.”)

This material is covered by the Open Game License.

Go to Part 1

Slarkethrel’s modus operandi has historically been to compartmentalize his structures of power. The innermost circles of these organizations have some degree of overlap, with their leaders all becoming indoctrinated in the multifaceted, cultic “truth” of Slarkethrel in different ways, allowing them to cooperate and support each other when necessary. But most members of these groups are largely or entirely unaware that they have any relationship with each other. In the case of the Kraken Society, most of the street-level operatives aren’t even aware that there’s a literal kraken at the top of the pyramid.

PURPLE ROCKS: HERALDS OF THE DEEP

The reavers of Purple Rocks are a recurrent nuisance along the coasts of the Trackless Sea, with small fleets that vary from one or a few ships to as many as two dozen at various points over the past couple hundred years. The Purple Rocks themselves are a small archipelago with a population of a few hundred people dominated by two major islands noted for their purple-and-red sea cliffs.

If a mainlander has heard of Purple Rocks, it’s most likely due to either the reavers acting up again or vilksmaarg cheese – a pungent, salty variety produced from the milk of the strange Purple Rocks goats that is quite popular in the taverns of Luskan. Someone visiting Purple Rocks will find a variety of small fishing villages nestled long the coasts and clefted highlands, filled with Northmen eking out a hardscrabble existence while worshiping familiar northern gods like Tempus, Umberlee, and Auril.

If one were to take a close look at the idols and icons of Tempus and the other gods, however, they might notice the subtle tentacles which have been worked into their design. So, too, is the mundanity of the islands as a whole merely camouflage for the Heralds of the Deep, the Slarkethrelian cult which has quietly dominated the domestic and political life of the Purple Rocks for centuries.

Those who spend time amongst the people here might begin to notice oddities: The curious lack of children, for example. A glassy, too-worn look around the eyes. The strange, fluting trumpets that sound from across the sea and to which many pay an almost uncanny heed. The strange lights that can sometimes be seen from the seacoasts at night and the lights in the highlands above that seem to answer them in kind.

The truth is that the Heralds of the Deep practice rites of human sacrifice, their victims being hurled as offerings into the sea. In return, the people of Purple Rocks receive the Purple Blessing, a strange purple crystal which is boiled down from an alchemical mixture that includes Slarkethrel’s blood and is delivered from the deeps. The crystals are smoked and convey an unnaturally long life. (Those who suffer most from the mutagenic side-effects withdraw from public life and eventually “return to the sea” to join their lord and master.) Most of the population of Purple Rocks is more than a century old. Mainlanders assume that the King Selger who rules here must be the son or grandson of the Selger who reigned before the Spellplague, but not so: It is the same man.

The most recent attempt to free Purple Rocks from the influence of the Heralds came in the mid-14^th century, when a popular rebellion on Utheraal – one of the two large islands of Purple Rocks – successfully rose up and crowned King Bromm. In 1368 DR, however, King Selger of Trisk (the other major island) landed his fleet of longships on Utheraal and retook the island. This was done with the full support of the Sword Coast city-states, who had long blamed King Bromm for the reavers who plagued their shipping.

(Oddly, however, it was Selger who had a fleet of longships… not Bromm. An example of how effective the efforts of the krakenar can be in silently shaping mainland opinion and politics.)

THE ASCARLIAN EMPIRE

The sunken city of Ascarle is the capital of an undersea empire. Once quite vast (spreading across an area larger than the Savage Frontier), its borders have been somewhat curtailed in the 15^th century. Politically it is a patchwork affair, consisting of various undersea peoples and nations who have been conquered or suborned by Slarkethrel and then usually left as distinct entities rather than being integrated into some larger whole.

Those who are annexed by the Ascarlian Empire are organized into satrapies. The satraps rule their demesnes with tyrannical authority, answering ultimately only to Slarkethrel and the Regent of Ascarle. The satraps may or may not be appointed from the same race and culture as those they govern, but they are always fiercely loyal to the divinity of the Kraken of Purple Rocks.

Slarkethrel has also attempted to infiltrate the satrapies of Ascarle with religious cults dedicated to his worship, efforts which have met with varying degrees of success. These cults often employ imagery and dogma which would be familiar to the Heralds of the Deep and the inner circles of the Kraken Society, but Slarkethrel prefers to keep them separate and distinct from each other.

Note: Although the Heralds of the Deep are kept separate from the imperium, King Selger is treated as a satrap and also answers to the Regent of Ascarle.

(This systemic division of power has undoubtedly contributed to a certain lack of stability in Ascarle’s dominion. On the other hand, it also insulates Slarkethrel’s power base from completely collapsing. Even if the kraken loses vast swaths of what he claims, whatever parts are left will remain whole and complete unto themselves, providing a foundation from which he can inevitably rebuild.)

THE REGENT OF ASCARLE: The Regent of Ascarle is a mind flayer named Vestress.

In 1278 DR, krakenar agents discovered the location of legendary Gauntlgrym, the one-time capital of the dwarven empire of Delzoun. An expedition plundered dwarven treasure and even more valuable lore, but ultimately came into conflict with the illithids who controlled the depths of the ancient city. A final operation within the city sought to pillage knowledge directly from the elder brain (and met with some mitigated success).

The operatives returned to Slarkethrel with vast caches of lore that would take decades to fully catalogue and riches which would fund the kraken’s ambitions to previously unimaginable heights. But it also triggered decades of illithid counterattacks, fueling a rivalry between the mind flayers and the tentacles of the deep that has only ebbed in recent years as a result of Gauntlgrym falling to a dwarven alliance (although it could easily flare up again at any time if something were to fan the flames of what is now centuries-old enmity).

In addition to lore and treasure, the krakenar also brought back a prisoner: Vestress.

Vestress was tortured and questioned by Slarkethrel, who opened her mind, peered into its depths, and then rebuilt it. After her brainwashing, Vestress believed herself to be a rogue illithid who had rebelled against her creche and been cast out for her “crime” of seeking freedom. Vestress believes that Slarkethrel found her and welcomed her into the embrace of its ever-giving tentacles.

At this time, Ascarle was still something of a haunted city. Vestress took it upon herself to assemble a force of “heroes” drawn from across Slarkethrel’s empire – merrow, sea elves, weresharks, kapoacinths, and water weirds – and led them in cleaning out the fell creatures and strange spirits. In the process, she transformed Ascarle into a proper capital city, and Slarkethrel named her the Protectress of the city. From that position, her influence and power simply grew, until she was named Regent of Ascarle in the Year of the Striking Falcon (1333 DR).

Vestress apparently remained in charge of Ascarle during whatever catastrophe separated the city from Slarkethrel and the empire. She is now quite aged, nearing the end of her natural lifespan. There is much speculation about who will become the next Regent of Ascarle, along with an increasing amount of jockeying as rivals seek to position themselves for the seemingly inevitable transition of power.

Go to Part 3: The Society