Card of the Week: Seasinger

While Time Walk is undoubtedly her most famous, this is my favorite of Amy Weber's paintings.

Songs of Doom

It was not the seas that drew me to Sarpadia, but rather its cities. In my studies I had come across an ancient copy of Sarpadian Empires Volume VI. Its pages spoke of the might of doomed Icatia, and I hoped that I could find remnants of that civilization…and its secrets. But by the time I arrived on that blasted land it was far too late. Widenby, Montford, Trokair—all were long gone. Centuries had passed since the thrulls had turned on their masters in the Ebon Hand and, subsequently, on everyone else. Nothing remained of the once-great Icatian civilization. In a way it was beautiful, with the natural world taking back the land from the great works of humanity. Beautiful, that is, until the thrulls sensed my presence. I did not stay long.

I stayed long enough, though, to search for ley lines before fleeing to more hospitable lands. It was as I explored a strange collection of sand structures along the coast that I heard the singing. To say that it was beautiful does it an injustice—it was like nothing I had ever heard before or since. By tone, it was a woman’s voice, and it dipped low into an alto thrum before soaring into the highest soprano tones and back down again. I could not understand the words, but even so they spoke to my spirit. I could do nothing else than follow it out into the waves.

The sea was choppy and the currents were strong, and I am certain that had I needed to breathe I would have drowned. Dashed against reef, dragged down by the undertow, spat up again by upwellings, I struggled on, rabid in my determination to reach her. For she could be nothing other than the woman of my—of everybody’s—dreams. Her voice promised anything and everything. Happiness, passion, ecstasy, contentment: all would be ours, if only I could join her in her song.

Just as I began to despair, I broke the surface yet once more—and there she was, perched on a rock jutting out of the sea. Her beauty was a match for her voice, unearthly and ethereal. Her skin was pearl-white, and her tail glistened with jewel tones. But her eyes were more remarkable than all else: deep pools of ocean blue that looked right through me. I could not look away; she held my soul with her gaze. Still singing, she considered me for a long moment before a strange expression passed over her face like clouds over a sparkling sea—and she fell silent.

As her song broke, so too did her spell on me break. I looked upon her with clear eyes. Though she was still beautiful, she was no longer the vision of my dreams. Now, I could see her hair floating like seaweed where it hung down into the water. Her skin was still white, but more of a fishbelly shade than pearl. Her tail was still extraordinary, but covered in fish-like scales instead of gemstones. She had stopped singing voluntarily, but I could not speak even though I wanted to. I would have told her that I would be hers forever if she would but sing for me again—perhaps it is for the best that I was mute.

And then, while I was still trying to find my voice, she slipped from her rock and disappeared into the waves. I clambered onto her rock and watched the spot where I had last seen her. When my voice returned I called out to her, begging her to come back. I cried and raged, pleading with the sea and the sky and to all the gods I knew. But I never saw her again.

In later years, I have thought on her many times. I still don’t know why she freed me after calling me into the sea. Perhaps she meant to drown me, and only released me once she realized that I would not drown. Perhaps she expected to call something different—after all, no humans remained in Sarpadia when she called me. In the most secret places of my heart, I hope that she could see how much I loved her, and set me free out of love of her own, even though I cannot make sense of that. Whatever her reasons, I’ve come to realize that she did set me free. I don’t doubt that I’d have been happy with her, but it would have been the happiness of a well-kept pet in a gilded cage. By turning me loose, she gave me back my own life.

Elsewhere in the Multiverse

Ulysses and the Sirens, by Herbert James Draper, circa 1909.

Seasingers are but one example of many such beings throughout the multiverse. Women whose voices are so beautiful as to lure others into danger are found throughout the planes. Sirens, näcken, ruskali, kelpies, and more—there are as many names for them as there are taverns for sailors to tell tales of them. One of the most famous of these tales tells of a king who encounters an island of sirens while on a voyage home from war. He commands his crew to stop their ears against the song, but does not do so himself. Instead, he has his crew tie him to the mast and commands them to not release him no matter how he pleads for them to do so. As such, he hears their beautiful and deadly song and lives to tell the tale.

The Siren's Call of Betrayal

Seasingers are not often employed by mages in sorcerous combat. While their skills are undoubtedly powerful, their close ties to the oceans limit their usefulness. Their bond to the ocean require their victims to be in close proximity to islands. If not for this, I imagine that they would find more employment in battle. After all, their voices serve them better than the fire-and-brimstone sermons of the Preachers of the Church of Tal—Seasingers can choose who they lure into the water, whereas the churchmen cannot control who find themselves susceptible to their preaching.

Turn your opponent's lands into islands, capture their creatures with Seasinger, and sacrifice them to your Diamond Valley. Then attack with huge islandwalking merfolk!

But for those undeterred, the hindrance of the Seasingers can be mitigated through other magics. Though a Phantasmal Terrain only masks the true nature of a land’s ley line, it is enough to enable a Seasinger to call beings near the affected land as if they were truly by the ocean. This is doubly effective when the land affected is more useful for its effects than its mana: a Mishra’s Factory so enchanted cannot send its Factory Workers into battle, the Library of Alexandria is no longer a source of priceless knowledge.

A Diamond Valley would be cheaper to use than the Safe Haven, and it'd give me life in exchange for stolen creatures. But I'm not cool enough to have a Diamond Valley.

Once a Seasinger has lured a being into her clutches, the Seasinger’s controller may use the being as he or she wills. Formidable beings can be effective in attacking their summoners, or can be sacrificed to neutralize their threats—or to provide other benefits. Once sacrificed the Seasinger can call another, then another, until none remain to be called—at which point her allies may go into battle unopposed.

Danatoth of Alsoor


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