Battlemap
The Sunken Scriptorium
Knowledge drowns in the salt and shadow of the deep.
An ancient, pre-cataclysm library preserved in an air pocket beneath the cliffs of Marrowport. Its stone shelves are choked with silt and guarded by creatures of the crushing depths.
The air is heavy with the scent of brine and decaying parchment. Corridors echo with the rhythmic thrum of waves outside, and patches of pale bioluminescent lichen provide dim, flickering light.
☠ Threat
The Brine-Bound Horror, a massive aberration of ink and necrotic seaweed, haunts the flooded halls. It was once the Head Archivist, transformed by a cursed tome that promised immortality but delivered only a watery, eternal hunger.
History
Built millennia ago by an obsessed magocracy to catalogue the movements of the sea, the Scriptorium was swallowed by a massive shelf collapse. While magical wards initially kept the water at bay, the masonry has begun to fail, leaving the library partially submerged and accessible only during the rare spring tides.
Encounter Table
CRVicious carnivorous fish that enter through cracks in the floor.
Pale, hairless ghouls that move with terrifying speed through the water.
Rumours & Whispers
A local fisherman claims the sea cave only opens when the stars align with the Marrowport lighthouse.
They say the scrolls in the Sunken Scriptorium aren't written in ink, but in the blood of those who drowned building it.
A merchant guild in the city is offering a fortune for a specific blue-bound ledger lost in the library.
Old Pete says he saw a giant eye staring at him from the surf near the cave entrance.
Quest Hooks
Quest giver: Master Thistlethwaite
The Trade Guild needs their ancient tax records recovered before the city council audits them.
800 gp and a favor from the guild.
Quest giver: Father Orym
An old priest believes the spirit of the Head Archivist can be laid to rest if his favorite book is burned.
A Blessing of the Sea Goddess (Resistance to Cold).
Corridor Notes
The walls are lined with niches containing the petrified skulls of librarians, each engraved with a number.
A stream of black ink flows along the ceiling, defying gravity and dripping slowly onto the floor.
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