The town made a bargain with the sea, and the sea kept its end.
Off the rotting harbor of Innsmouth, in the black water past Devil Reef, the Deep Ones keep their cities: an amphibious people who do not age and do not die, ruled by Father Dagon and Mother Hydra. To the desperate they offer gold and endless fish, and they ask only one thing in return: blood, mingled down the generations, until the children of the town grow gilled and wide-eyed and slip beneath the waves to live forever among the scaled and the crowned.
Dagon is what waits at the bottom of that bargain. A god the size of a cathedral, barnacled and patient, who was already old when the first sailor drowned.
Crowned here among the drowned ruins. Printed heavy on garment dyed cotton, for the ones who have always felt the pull of deep water.
