The Labryne Basin (La-Brih-N)

Dreadful stories from the Labryne Basin exist in every seafaring culture throughout the Greenwold. Most accounts date back to ancient history - tales of sea monsters, ghosts, and madness, though accounts of missing ships and strange sightings in the basin have only increased in the modern era.
The air here is stale; aerial and sea creatures alike avoid this space. Birds on their migratory paths veer away from its borders, as if some repulsive force warns their animal senses. Humanoid sailors are not lucky enough to receive such a warning. Beyond an unusual stillness in the air, the Labryne Basin appears the same as other vast stretches of the blue sea. Only by carefully checking the charts can a captain be sure to steer clear of the strange, often inexplicable dangers of this mysterious region.
While most wildlife stays far away from the Labryne Basin, the remaining creatures who call the area home have adapted, with some even thriving in the eerie sea. Fish caught on voyages through the basin are rarely edible. What fish are caught tend to be small and sickly - or rot before they’ve been cleaned. Accounts of plague and hysteria have been attributed to tales of unscrupulous fishermen selling off an ill-gotten catch from too near the Labryne Basin.
Stories of sickness, madness and death feature prominently in tales from the basin. Sailors report schools of undead merrow, massive, sickly-looking sharks, rain showers of foul slime, and worse.
Every so often reckless sailors attempt a crossing of the Labryne Basin, or a brave captain dares to chart a new course. Those who do not take the threat of the basin seriously often meet disastrous ends. Few enough return that dread stories circulate through dockside taverns across the realm. It's said that any sailor who enters the basin leaves with a dreadful story to tell - if they're lucky enough to leave at all.
All the same, given how rare trips to the Labryne Basin are, a surprisingly large number of stories have been attributed to it. Many scholars consider some of these stories mere fancy or exaggeration. Of course, the uncertainty of not knowing which tales are true and which were fabricated by bards looking to earn a coin, only adds to the basin's danger.

The Eater of the Dead

One of the earliest accounts of the basin comes from famous explorer, Tidario Yuma of Grayhaven. Tidario kept meticulous notes of the world he uncovered while sailing through the Great Sea. His captain’s journal set the standard for generations and inspired further exploration in the generations that would follow. According to the notes, the explorer’s vessel made a good distance through the basin before his crew began to succumb to a ‘wasting disease,’ one after another. There was no obvious cause for the deadly sickness that broke out on-board. When the first victims were given a burial at sea, a huge monster was spotted breaching the waves some distance behind the ship. Though its exact shape could never be made out, it appeared to be huge and hideously misshapen. The sea monster followed the ship for days, gobbling up the dead as they were thrown over board. When the monster eventually departed, the sick crew members immediately recovered.

The Celestial Hand

A few weathered sea hands who emerge from the basin occasionally report sightings of a “massive claw” reaching from the heavens on the distant horizon. They say six super-massive fingers stretch down with cyclonic force and churn powerful waves toward their vessels. Within the hour, a storm gathers and their ships are beset with walls of wrathful ocean water. The sailors have various names for the phenomenon, but across all translations, they commonly refer to the six spouts by one name: "The Hand."
Waterspouts, powerful cyclones of air and ocean water, are not uncommon on the coasts of the Greenwold, and only rarely cost the lives of sailors. Most weather-watchers and navigators are familiar with their signs and avoid their path, but the Hand’s monstrous cyclones dwarf the spouts of the humanoid-filled coasts.
The significance of the six waterspouts appearing each time is not lost upon the superstitious. Clerics of Scur, the Ocean God, claim the spouts are in truth the hand of a Scur herself. They say she stirs the waters, hoping to reclaim something lost long ago in the depths of the basin.
Others, including followers of the Oarsman, and a sect of dwarven nature priests, claim the vortexes are an omen of The Final Storm, a forthcoming cataclysm of world-ending proportions. When the six spouts approach the continents and wreak havoc upon the lavish cities of all humanoids, the priests say the Final Rains shall begin.

The Wandering Lich

Off all the purported dangers and mysteries of the Labryne Basin, none are so astounding as the rumors of a mighty undead wizard said to dwell somewhere within the region.
The lich has a different name in every tale told about him. It is said that he has an enormous sea monster at his command that he uses to capsize ships so he can do strange magical experiments upon their crew.
The truth is even more incredible - though there are none alive who know it. Not only has the lich been responsible for many disappearances in the basin over the centuries, his macabre experiments sometimes float to the top waters and prey upon unlucky sailors.

Geography

Bizarre occurrences of weather regularly strike the basin. Storms will form quickly, rocking the area violently with crashing waves and torrential downpour, only to clear up entirely within minutes. Waterspouts pursue ships across the sea, seeming to follow them wherever they go, even driving them into the territory of sea monsters.
One of the most dangerous occurrences in the basin are rogue waves. These massive waves, some reaching as high as 80 ft., have been said to rise from out of nowhere. Ships with the misfortune of standing in the way of these colossal forces can be easily capsized or sunk. Wreckage caught up in waves can easily be swept away great distances. Those lucky enough to survive such an event may find themselves stranded in a distant stretch of ocean without any real idea as to where they’ve been left.
The most ominous stories tell of rogue waves inexplicably appearing outside of the Labryne Basin - scooping up a ship that believes it has just escaped the dangerous region, only to be swept back in.

History

Folk legends concerning this unnerving territory have evolved throughout the ages. So much so, scholars have no clear understanding of the basin’s true history or when it became the hallowed place it is today. Though few know it, the history of the basin begins in the formation of the world, at the dawn of the First Age.
In the earliest of times, when the world was new and the seas were still forming, the area that would become known as the Labryne Basin was a focal point of powerful magic.
As the world began to form and take its final shape, certain regions were magical "hot spots." Just like magma bursting to the surface to form volcanoes, intense concentrations of magic burst forth in areas to form powerful "nexus points" that permanently changed the land around them - sometimes even creating portals between planes.
The nexus point in the Labryne Basin became dormant ages ago, but residual effects of its magical past still linger in the location - attracting unusual creatures, and occasionally manifesting in magical outbursts.

Reiklin's Records

The first written record of odd occurrences in the Labryne Basin come from Commodore Reiklin, the leader of a three-vessel exploratory voyage from an ancient Empyrean kingdom south of the Greenwold. Among his notations on the absence of sea birds and the sudden departure of a dolphin pod that had been following the ships for days, he reported his crew suffering from intense paranoia, with several sailors grinding their teeth in their sleep with such ferocity, their molars fell out the next morning.
Storms would surround his ship without warning. One sailor in his crow's nest reported, “...a giant, bone white sea serpent longer than fifteen ships” had breached from the depths. The navigator’s tools malfunctioned on a constant basis and the ships quickly became lost. The expedition ended up eight days off course and the crew almost starved to death before emerging from the cursed basin; half the crew driven to madness.

Lux's Blind Spot

In the many years since Reiklin's journey, nearly every captain with the sense to hoist a sail has avoided the region. However, there is one powerful incentive that still draws ships to the basin.
While the Labryne Basin is technically part of Lux’s territory, it’s well known that the dragon forbids her offspring from entering the region. This blind spot in Lux’s domain makes it an attractive option for miscreants fleeing the dragon's wrath or merchants avoiding her taxes.
Daring (or foolish, depending on the perspective) traders and pirates will chart a course through the basin, some hiring magic users to divine their path and bless the voyage. Few deckhands will sign- up to work on-board such vessels, even when offered dramatically higher wages.
All the same, when confronted with the certainty of an angry dragon, the uncertainty of the basin becomes a surprisingly appealing option.

Type

Region

Location under

The Great Sea