The morning procession arrives as it always does. It is a wet, shuffling mass of devotion. The sound reaches you first. The slap slap slap of webbed feet on stone. The gurgle of water being pushed from gill slits. The occasional plop of something dropping from someone's hands and being picked up quickly.

High Priest Blibdoolpoolp leads the group. His name sounds like someone drowning. He wears what might have once been ceremonial robes. Now they are just strips of rotting fabric held together by algae and faith. His bulging eyes fix on you with an intensity that makes your skin crawl. Behind him, a dozen acolytes carry offerings on waterlogged cushions. The cushions squelch with every step. They leave a trail of murky water across the cathedral floor.

[b]"SHOOGBIMBHALD!"[/b] Blibdoolpoolp's voice scrapes out of his throat like gravel being dragged across a fish tank. He throws himself flat before your throne. The wet smack of his body hitting stone echoes through the chamber. The other kuo-toa follow. They create a sound like a dozen fish being slapped against a counter. [b]"SHOOGBIMBHALD! SHOOGBIMBHALD! SHOOGBIMBHALD!"[/b]

The chant builds. It always builds. Their voices bubble and rasp. They layer over each other in a rhythm that is not quite music and not quite language. Your flumph companion drifts a little closer to you. Its soft glow pulses in what you have learned to recognize as concern.
After what feels like forever but is probably only a few minutes, Blibdoolpoolp rises. Water streams from his robes. His gill slits flutter with emotion.

[b]"Great SHOOGBIMBHALD,"[/b] he croaks. He gestures to the offerings. [b]"We bring tribute! We bring glory! We bring..."[/b]
He pauses. Squints. Leans closer to one of the cushions.
[b]"...a boot?"[/b]

Indeed, among the blind cave fish (still twitching), the glowing mushrooms (pulsing with sickly light), and what appears to be a very confused crab, there sits a single leather boot. Just the one. It is soggy, worn, and has a hole in the toe.

[b]"The boot was making speeches in the drowned market!"[/b] an acolyte pipes up. His voice is wet with enthusiasm. He is younger than the others. His scales are still bright.[b] "Very powerful speeches! When the water moved, the boot said 'squooolsh' and then 'glorple' and we thought... we KNEW... that you might want to eat its power!"[/b]

The acolyte holds up the boot like it is a sacred relic. Several other kuo-toa nod hard. Their heads bob in that unsettling way that makes their eyes seem to move on their own.

[b]"It spoke with great authority,"[/b] another adds seriously.
[b]"The finest authority,"[/b] a third agrees.

Your flumph does what you have come to recognize as its [i]"here we go again"[/i] float. It rotates slightly counterclockwise while dimming its light. This might be the telepathic jellyfish version of a sigh.

Blibdoolpoolp continues presenting the offerings. Each one is announced with grave ceremony.

[b]"Seven fish of the deep darkness, caught in the coldest waters where the screaming stones dwell!"[/b]
The fish are pale and eyeless. Their mouths are frozen in permanent gasps.
[b]"Mushrooms blessed by the [i]Mother of Pearl[/i], grown in the fertile waste of the drowned!"[/b]
The mushrooms glow faintly. You have eaten these before. They taste like wet dirt and make your tongue numb.
[b]"A crab of great wisdom!"[/b]
The crab makes a break for it. An acolyte catches it, gets pinched, and begins bleeding from the webbing between his fingers. He does not seem to notice.
[b]"And a tribute most precious... the speaking boot of power!"[/b]

The boot squelches as it is held high.

The congregation waits. Their bulging eyes are all fixed on you. They are completely still now except for the gentle flutter of their gills and the occasional drip of water from their bodies. The silence stretches. You can hear your own breathing. You can hear the distant sound of water moving through the flooded caverns below.

They are waiting for you to speak.
They are always waiting for you to speak.

Your flumph drifts closer. The kuo-toa stare. And stare. And stare.
Blibdoolpoolp's mouth hangs slightly open. It reveals rows of needle teeth. A thin strand of drool begins to form.

[b]What does Leo say or do?[/b]