The Drowned God's domain was a suffocating expanse of darkness, a void where light went to die. The air was heavy with the stench of decay, of rot, of things best left forgotten. The group's eyes struggled to adjust, their senses reeling from the assault of the Drowned God's aura.
The God itself loomed on the throne, a towering mass of twisted, waterlogged wood and barnacles, its "face" a grotesque parody of a human visage, with eyes that glowed like lanterns in the depths of a shipwreck. The eyes fixed on the group, and the weight of its gaze was like a physical force, pushing them to their knees.
Elara's magic faltered, her eyes widening as blood trickled from her nose, her ears. Lucias stumbled, his sword clattering to the ground, his eyes bleeding, his ears ringing. Kyle's grip on the Kraken Heart was like a lifeline, but even its power seemed feeble against the Drowned God's might.
