A wide reservoir of black water

The torchlight thrown over the sheet of too-still water seemed to just further deepen it, the few flickers of reflected light contrasting the obsidian depths. The lake was nestled in a ecosystem of lichen and twisted cave growth that clung to the stony teeth of the grotto ceiling. The closest bank to the dam had a small shore of pebbles, and a wooden boardwalk was erected from the dam parallel to the water edge. The walkway led to a rough structure, barely larger than a chicken coop, and a dock that extended a couple dozen feet into the water.

[Rolled 9+2=11 for Perception]

You took the obvious road, not seeing any sign of someone in the shed currently, and the dock was empty. There was apparently some ready access to the surface for the current denizens of this cave to be able to build so freely with wood. Unless there were subterranean forests that you weren't aware of in this realm.

A careful listen and survey of the shed confirmed it- empty. You pulled open the door and saw a small mattress at the far corner. Rough linen of some kind, stuffed with something to soften it up. A few shelves contained some jars of unknown contents, and a table beneath had a knife and was stained with grime. A bucket similarly stained was beneath it. Tools hung on the opposite wall, made of bone, metal and wood, some with obvious purposes like a net, a sharp jagged spear too thin for combat, far more likely for hunting. Others were a mystery, particularly the out of place curio that appeared to be a glass half dome affixed to a belt, or watch if you had a larger wrist.

Within the dome was a strange bioluminescent moss of some kind, longer branches of it spindling out of its center mass. The dome apparently was some kind of terrarium, keeping moisture locked in, as the glowing moss had a subtle mist pooling about it, lighter than air from how it collected at the top. Your curiosity was greatly piqued, and you reached out to pick it up to study it closer when your ears pricked up. A dull _thnkk thnk tnk _from the direction of the shore, an innocuous noise that filled you with a cold fear.

You turned towards the noise, finding a roughshod raft bouncing against the dock, its owner bounding off of it onto the wood with a clacking impact as hoof met board. The goat man approached you with haste, bleating out a low throaty warning as they half jogged towards the shed. This one held a long, sturdy push pole that ended in a flared _Y, _still dripping with water. Its build was similar to the other you saw, strong and sturdy, though slightly shorter than you at five feet tall.

You saw little other option, staring down your first foe of the Furrow, and drew your sword, heart beating madly as it supplied you with a rush of adrenaline. It was time to sink or swim.