***
A few moments in, they laughed. Though the water was mysterious and black outside their little spheres of light, the silent, slow descent was anticlimactic in the face of all their fears. Terredor shivered and his skin puckered in the icy water. Eventually they floated to the cave floor. Except for the rock wall they had followed the whole way down, there were no landmarks within their limited field of vision.
The terse silence was ominously lit by their bubbles of brilliant light, illuminating the seemingly uninhabited depths. The only signs of life they’d seen so far were a few pockets of bizarre white algae, sprouting in clumps from cracks in the stone, and a handful of tiny blind fish, none bigger than a fingernail.
Perhaps Waimbrill was lost in thought as well, for both were surprised and overwhelmed when they saw a dozen spears poking out of the darkness around them. A group of lightly armored rainids swam into the light.
Unlike the pale blue rainids of the mountains or the warty green rainids of the lake, these were yellow-white, their bodies almost entirely featureless, except for a wide mouth and a pair of nostrils on their face.
“Drop your weapons!” they shouted, and Waimbrill and Terredor raised their arms.
“We bear peace,” Waimbrill shouted, “I am a servant of Modroben. My name is Mortiss Waimbrill.”
The eyeless cave rainids reacted to his words. Modroben was the only god in the world whose worship was universal. For whom among you shall not die, thee shall be free from the lord of the remainder. Terredor’s gill slits flapped nervously. He was glad to be in the company of a Soulclaine - terrible traveling companions though they certainly were, their social status afforded significant benefits.
“Come with us,” bellowed one of the guards.
The rainids led them away, through a narrow corridor of rough-hewn rock. Emerging from a particularly narrow twist, Terredor was awestruck at the sudden explosion of life. The algae here were thick bushes, waving slowly in the gently flowing water, organized colonies of algae forming bizarre shapes: conical, pyramidal, tubular, and twisted into loops and spirals that extended several feet from the rocks. These algal structures swarmed with small fish who gathered in schools. Almost everything was white, and all of the animals were eyeless, including an array of solitary fish, ranging from tiny to huge, silently gliding and wriggling in and out of the radius of light. They passed white-shelled crabs up to ten feet from leg to leg, darting away from the party of rainids around Waimbrill and Terredor.
Descending past a shelf, Terredor saw pods fashioned out of thin, smooth fabric. They ranged from man-sized units to family-sized dwellings affixed to the rock wall with line. The pods were pure white, with a flap that could be tied shut from the inside. Terredor later learned they were spun from the webbing that a creature called the silkfish used to encase its eggs.
They passed pods that seemed to be shops, with signs out front, upraised symbols carved on a bone-like substance. Through openings in the pod walls, Terredor caught glimpses of myriad objects, most of which were unrecognizable, others appeared to be stone weapons, white vegetables and clothing woven from the same material that made the pods.
Terredor heard the rainids jabbering a greeting in their own language before a new person swam into the area lit by their rings. He was a tall, gangly rainid, skin of white and yellow, and a face well-worn with wrinkles.
“Greetings in death,” croaked the newcomer.
Waimbrill replied in kind, then said, “My name is Mortiss Waimbrill, and this is my apprentice, Terredor. We’re from Crikland.”
“And I am Mortiss Gelvid. Welcome to Helmarthonn.”