Sunk like a Stone Cold Killer

With an eyebrow raised, Rifkin considers Fortu's comments. 

"Morality is subjective I suppose. What's perfectly reasonable to one person can seem monstrous to another. There's one point you've raised that I hadn't considered though... Why should Estrid trust us with her secret?"

As the slender Bard ambles away, Fortu stares past him at the 'goddess' of the pool. Almost as tall as he is, she's screaming down at the four diminutive, web-footed Nixies.

She's shouting in her own weird language but the Nixies are bizarrely responding in an oddly accented 'common'.

"We tried Goddess! We tried! He was just a Human, laden down in clunky metal armour! We pulled him under and pushed him down. We could see him holding his breath but, despite his heavy armour, he was a powerful swimmer. Too powerful! Freakishly powerful!! Rather than struggle against us, he exploited both the weight of his own armour and our efforts to force him further downward to move deeper. By the time we realised what he was attempting to do, where his intentions truly lay, it was too late. Once he'd dragged himself to the lip of the vertical pit, even the four of us weren't strong enough to pull him back up!"

Estrid speaks gibberishly again but in a much calmer tone, reaching down and gently stroking each of their upturned, tear stained faces before being distracted by Rifkin. This time though, Fortu can't comprehend either side of the conversation.