“If we jump into the pool, we should be able to make our way to the river unnoticed,” you say.
“I agree, it seems like the wisest course,” the goat-woman says, her large, violet eyes staring at the churning pool below. “Unfortunately, I do not know how to swim. My people are uncomfortable in water. I’d prefer to take the cliff.”
“Well, we can’t climb that cliff,” you say. “We’d be spotted for certain. Can’t you at least dog-paddle?”
“Dog ... paddle?” The expression on her face turns to one of disgust. “The Avidar are not a people to take any ideas from dogs, nor is their princess one to shed with that tradition.”
“Look, we don’t have time for this,” you say, pulling yourself through the gap in the bars. “You can stay if you want.”
Taking a deep breath, you leap the ten feet into the pool. With a splash, you land, noting that it is far deeper than you would have expected. Surfacing, you are nearly overwhelmed with the acidic stench of the water. You repress the urge to retch. Looking up, you see the goat-woman—the princess of the Avidar—looking greatly conflicted.
“Come on and jump,” you say. “All you have to do is float until we get to the river!”
Reluctantly, she jumps into the pool, landing with a great splash. You wait for her to surface ...
After several seconds, you realize that she’s not coming up. Immediately, you dive under the surface of the foul, gray liquid. You briefly open your eyes to look for her, only to close them again as the water burns them intensely. You grope blindly for a few moments, desperately trying to find her. And then, just as your lungs begin to burn from a lack of oxygen, your hand brushes against her head.
You grab onto her, struggling with all of your strength to break the surface. She is struggling wildly, clearly in a panic, and doing more harm than good to your efforts. You also suddenly realize why she doesn’t know how to swim, and why her people probably don’t like the water. Although small of frame and seemingly slight, she is actually far more dense and heavy than you’d realized.
Finally, with great effort, you reach the surface of the pool, gasping for air. With a strange bleating noise as she coughs out the revolting water from her lungs, she does the same.
“Calm down!” you whisper harshly into her ear. “Just breathe and relax. I can get us out of here, but not if you keep struggling!”
After a few more seconds of panic, she does. It’s not ideal, and keeping the both of you afloat is hard work, but you manage to slowly work your way down the stream towards the river. The progress is tedious. After perhaps half an hour, you make it to the river. In the distance, you can see the fort in which you were held. The great doors to the keep open, and a garrison of Durnitaur guards begins working their way down to the cliff you nearly tried to climb. You realize it is only a matter of time before they figure out where you’ve escaped to.
The Avidar woman is still panicked, clearly unable to make any decisions. In fact, she seems to be almost frozen up like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming car.
But you have reached the river bank. You are exhausted from the swim. Looking around, you notice that there is a small boat docked on the opposite shore, perhaps another 100 yards away. You couldn’t swim there with the Avidar woman, but you could leave her on the bank and try to swim across and come back for her when you’ve secured the boat. Upstream, and on this side of the river, there is an overgrown thicket which reaches out over the water which could perhaps offer a temporary shelter until dusk.
Do you: Head for the thicket; or attempt to swim across the river to get the boat?
