The lake winds through the darkness like a serpent. High above, nearly hidden in the shadows., hangs a decrepit rope bridge connecting two caves on opposite sides of the lake. Rotting planks dangle loosely from the tattered ropes. Climbing the overhung, algae-covered walls to the caves seem impossible.
The lake ends at a dock rising to a small, natural cave. A brazier stands to either side wreathed in cold flames.
The back of the cave is dominated by a pair of iron doors. The doors arch from the floors to the ceiling, and are inscribed with the heads of dragons, twisted into ferocious masks of anger.
The dock area to the doors is roughly 25 feet across by 20 feet wide. You notice four pirates by the gates, trying to find a way through. One of them seems better off than the rest, with a sly look to him and a blade with a shiny pommel at his hip. You have no doubt that this is the pirate called Savage Quenn. You are still not quite to the dock where you can disembark, though your undead pilot is nearly there.
Upon seeing you, Savage Quenn yells, Oy! Looks like we got ourselves some rough-looking company. I don't know why you three are here, but you've come just in time. We could use some help getting through these doors, and we won't mind sharing whatever treasure lies beyond. Still, I'm curious if you've seen any of my mates on your way up here. I'd hope they'd be escorting company such as yourselves. He eyes you carefully as he awaits your response, arm leaning against his blade's pommel.
