The Newt and Demon-4.14 - Swamp Adventure

The swamp outside of Broken Tusk was bathed in a pale green light. Theo stood with the group of adventurers, looking up at the night watch that had posted themselves over the western gate. Telbaris shone above, providing that deceptive light, battled back by lanterns. It would be an arduous task to find a green flower bathed in green light, after all.

But the threshold between the town and the swamp was one that Theo rarely crossed, if ever. Standing before it was like standing at a curtain of dreams, filled with promise and danger. Tresks insistence to bring along so many adventurers made the task palatable, but as the alchemist shuffled his bare feet on the cobbles he felt a sense of fear. If hed practiced his Toruaun magic, he would have felt better about it. While arming himself with potions had brought comfort before, now he only felt unease. Uncertainty of his own abilities.

Those dark places in the swamp, places shrouded in shadow, were his partners home. She regarded him with a steely expression, then one of confusion. Wheres your shoes?

Terogal, Theo responded, looking down.

Tresk grumbled, withdrawing a pair of dexterity-enhancing boots and handing them over. Theo slipped them on, watching by candlelight as they resized themselves to fit him. Waterproof and all that, Tresk said. Cant say much about you going knee-deep in the damn mud, though.

Thanks, Theo said.

Im watching you from the shadows, alright? You have a guard of 3 adventurers, and the rest are going to scout for the flower, Tresk said. Yall hear that? Do I have to repeat myself?

A thunderous chorus from the adventurers. No, commander.

Theo often forgot she was in charge of anything, let alone all the stealth-style adventurers in town. With no more ceremony, the Marshling vanished from the spot and the adventurers pushed forward. The alchemist spotted Zankir, assigned to guard duty. The Khahari man gave a smile, then a shy nod.

Dont fear. Khahar is with us. Zankir flexed something, letting out a burst of golden-brown light. The power of the Khahari desert. Of Khahar himself.

The mud took half of Theos legs on the first step, and he grumbled. The [Cleansing Scrub] potion was the only thing that could save him from this place. A potion, or spell that kept him above the level of the mud would have been ideal. But it was not time to complain. Xolsas life was worth moments of discomfort.

Did he give you a core? Theo asked, staying close to Zankir.

Even in the darkness, Theo could see the sad smile on the Khaharis face. Sal wasnt happy. At first. But shes come to understand what our lords intentions were.

Resting his hand on the gosling in his bag, Theo noted the rapid rise and fall of her little chest. She was sleeping, which brought up questions about the Dreamwalk. The last time this happened, it appeared as an endless void of black. He hoped she wasnt too scared. But she was a smart goose. Shed figure it out.

His plans are far from over, Theo said. Did he designate you as his Champion?

That title goes to another, Zankir said. But he whispers of Khahak. Of our people, and their ascension to the high heavens. Its inspiring.

Agreed, Theo said, keeping his distance from a tangle of webs. Deep in a ball of silky web was a faintly glowing spider about the size of his hand. A [Marshlight Spider], monsterized but passive. They hid during the day, only coming out at night to hunt. He was a good friend. Well, I guess that was a long time ago. And hes not really dead, so theres no sense talking like that.

Curved blades whispered from Zankirs hips, catching the green light of the moon with a deadly glint. The mud at his feet stirred away, but he relaxed. The advanced team got it. Snapper in the mud. Hed have been better dead, compared to how he was. The torture of a mortal body.

That was a torture Theo knew all too well. Without Terogal, his mind was often not his own. Only recently had he felt more like himself. Like the person he knew on Earth. While he didnt view that as a good thing, hed made progress since those times. Since that silver chain clung around his neck, dangling like the lost memory it was. Now he had a different love in this world. Something strange, but altogether deeper. The bond transcended explanation, plugging that gaping hole expertly.

Tresk appeared near the pair suddenly, her eyes darting around. Shoulda brought a wizard. There are spirits around tonight.

Spirits? Theo asked.

Wisps, if you wanna call them that, Tresk said. Immune to physical damage. Need a good pew pew to kill them. You know, fire or something like that. Theyre drawn to sadness, so dont be sad.

Without warning, she waddled away, waiting for her abilities to go off cooldown.

The attacks from my [Khahar Sandslayers Core] are magical, Zankir said with a chuckle. Although, why would she bother asking? Keep it close, everyone. Eyes open. Damn wisps glow like the sun, so they shouldnt be hard to miss.

The idea of the journey was to push far into the swamp, a trivial task with Xolsas portal. With the Elf out of action, they had to hike through the treacherous swamp. Attacks were common from snappers, wolves, goblins, and the wisps. But the tight formation of the adventurers, combined with those ranging forward, made the search simple enough. Areas near the town were picked clean by either loggers or adventurers. Raised sections of the swamp were the best areas to check, as they provided a break from the constant sloshing of boots.

Resting on a hill that rose only knee high above the churning mud of the swamp, the party took a break. Blue lights moved somewhere in the distance as Tresk gave orders to fan out from their position. Lanterns scrambled off into the night, but Theos eyes were locked on the sudden rise of rocks in the distance. It seemed only a pile of stone, if not for the swirling portal standing before it. The [Swamp Dungeon]. Hed never seen it so close before, only from the wizards tower that loomed in the distance.

I hope Xolsa is doing good, Theo whispered, mostly to himself.

Zankir, who took it upon himself to guard Theo personally, let out a sigh nearby. It would be a shame if our only wizard perished.

Hey, Im a wizard now.

It would be a shame if our only good wizard were to perish.

The playful comment put Theo in a much better mood. The jittery effects of the [Stamina Potion] were wearing off, giving way to a sense of calmness. Did the adventurers get orders not to touch the flowers? the alchemist asked. It would be a shame if they touched the flowers. Sometimes reagents are quite reactive.

Im sure our fearless commander gave the order, Zankir said idly.

Theo withdrew two chairs from his inventory and set them down on the peat-strewn ground. He sat down before beckoning his guardian to do the same. Zankir refused. The alchemist shrugged, sending a mental command to his golems to converge on the swamp. His intuition claimed there was no danger, but it paid to be careful in the swamp. The lodestone network was distant, so the commands filtered through as sporadic things. There was no guarantee they went through.

Hey, check this out, Theo said, finding a random rock and warding it with [Lesser Reveal].

Fancy wizard man, Zankir said, stifling a laugh. What does it do?

When you attack the rock, it reveals invisible stuff, Theo said.

That sounds useless.

Yeah. I need more of the trigger sigils. Imagine one that triggers when it senses an enemy, Theo said.

Now that sounds useful, Zankir said. Whats the duration?

Theo and Zankir talked about the applications of warding magic. The Khahari had a few good ideas, and decided that the limiting factor was the triggers. If he only had one for attack, then they were almost all going to be useful. But if he could derive more properties from the primal essences, and shove those into wards, theyd be useful. As a seasoned adventurer, he didnt take to the idea of binding them to [Pozwa Horn] idols.

But everyone needs a hobby. Dont they?

Taking those words to heart, the alchemist withdrew one of Tresks knives from their shared inventory and produced a [Pozwa Horn] for carving. The dagger didnt cut as clean as Bentons godly knife, making the task much more difficult. But it was something to do under that green moon. Something to keep his mind focused as Zankir stood watch, vertical-slit pupils scanning the horizon in a constant vigil. What danger found them on that island was put down immediately, never given more than a step on the loam.

For all the danger around them, the swamp was a beautiful place. The wisps that danced over the thick mud cast blue to mingle with the moons green. There were few natural bugs in the air, which made little sense in Theos mind. Sounds of things fluttering overhead, among the tall boughs of the Ogre Cypress trees. Only the occasional sound of battle drew away from that sense of wonder.

Alright, Tresk said, appearing from nowhere. Got some greenish flowers. Lookin like tulips or somethin.

Lets go, Theo said, standing and following the Marshling into the swamp.

They trudged closer to the [Swamp Dungeon] than Theo had ever been. A partial bridge of land spanned the space between the island and the dungeon. Not enough to keep out of the fetid mud, but enough to make the journey easily enough. Tresk led them closer to that dungeon, that towering pile of stones. It radiated a strange energy. It was as though the stones sought to draw the alchemist in. Inviting and dangerous at the same time, a contradiction of states that sent his heart beating faster.

Theo craned his neck, looking almost directly up. Ive never been inside a dungeon.

Count yourself lucky, Zankir said. The [Swamp Dungeon] is gross.

Adventurers had found something near the rear of the dungeon. Tucked near the trunk of an Ogre Cypress was a vining, spiny plant that clung to the bark. Theo came closer to the plant, his [Drogramath Alchemy Core] whispering as he drew closer. It whispered of the power within those sparse flowers. They werent like other reagents in the area. They were different. Tresk reached a hand out to touch one and the alchemist shouted.

Dont!

Tresk froze, looking back to cast him a confused look. Theo moved forward, holding a green flower in his hand. He sent his intent to inspect the item, letting out a steady breath as he did. It was a spirit plant.

[Soul Bloom]

[Alchemy Ingredient] [Spirit Flower]

Legendary

Impossibly delicate flower that blooms only once a moon phase. Improper handling will result in the destruction of this flower. Grows in places containing high spiritual energy.

[????] [????] [????]

Fancy, Tresk said, leaning close. Why cant we handle them?

Theo busied himself picking as many of the rare blooms as he could find. There were only 10 of them on the trunk of the tree, and he doubted their ability to find more. The reason he could handle the spirit plants was his [Rare Material Handling] ability. Without that, a normal person couldnt place a finger on the [Soul Blooms]. He explained it to his companions, who nodded along.

Heres another question for ya, Tresk said, nodding as though she knew the rules as good as anyone. How are you going to distill them? Low-unit runs are hard enough. Who knows if your still can even handle them?

She was simply reading his mind, or his feelings. It would be impossible to run the spirit plants through the stills. Hed have to work them down to their primal essences and brew from there. The disadvantage to that technique was in volume, but he didnt need a lot of the potion. Just enough to help Xolsa, and anyone else who suffered a soul-slaying.

Ill work them manually, Theo said, coveting the blooms in his hands. He placed them in his inventory, not willing to let them sit in the open air any longer.

The group continued their search of the swamp. As the hours swept past, they realized it was just the one plant within the swamp. At least within their limited search area. They trudged through the swamp, spotting lights flickering in the distance. Not distant enough to be people just outside the gates, but others wading through the swampy waters. A group of Elves stooped low, holding lanterns above their heads to inspect the murky water.

Frogs, one said as Theo approached. Delicious frogs.

The Elf was young, although the alchemist didnt know what that meant for their race. The intensity with which he stared at the water meant these frogs were worth catching. But Theo had never seen frogs in the swamp. A hand blurred into the water, sinking deep into the mud. Wrenching his hand from the muck, a smile spread across the Elfs face as he withdrew something that looked vaguely like a frog. Instead of the normal four legs, the thing had eight. And instead of legs, they were tentacles.

Why is it always tentacles? Theo asked.

Upon closer inspection, Theo realized the frog only shared one characteristic with the frogs he knew back home. Wet, bumpy skin and a general color palette of green-brown. Other than that, even the things face was different.

Thats an octopus, Theo said.

Octofrog, Tresk said, with a satisfied nod. Frogopus?

Ive heard the Elves call them Harlags, Zankir said.

Yeah, Harlags, Tresk said. Used to eat them when I was a kid. Kinda a kids food, dont you think?

Theyre delicious, the Elf said, rising to his full height. He stuffed the frog-thing in his bag and smiled. Boil them quickly, then soak them in cold broth. Leave it for a day, then eat it up.

Well, enjoy your frogopus, Theo said, waving at the strange Elf. Also, dont stray too far from the walls. Unless you want to die.

Death is a worthy price for the frogopus.

Theo departed before someone could say frogopus again. There was some interesting linguistic opportunity there that he couldnt quite grasp. Why would the Qavelli language have a word for frogs? As a language, Qavelli was a patois, or creole language. Derived from something that existed before the settlers came here, and bastardized beyond recognition, the Qavelli people had adopted something and made it their own. But frogs?

Pidgin languages aside, the night had been a success. Theo often found himself in possession of rare items. Sometimes he thought about those items value, but they often served a purpose rather than a monetary value. Even taking clippings from the spirit plant left him feeling as though he couldnt force the flower to reproduce. Unlike the pristine seeds Khahar left him, those in the wild seemed not only uncultivated, but feral.

Can a plant be feral? Theo asked. No one answered and he decided it didnt matter.

The point was, there was no point in worrying. The trip outside the walls had been exciting. Not only just because of the flowers, but because of the adventure. If the alchemist had a few more things in his toolbelt, hed be happy to delve into dungeons and fight monsters. He wouldnt fool himself into thinking hed serve any role other than support, but seeing something new had sent that shock of adventure through his mind.

The group didnt break immediately. They stood in the towns square, watching lights behind windows and retelling their adventure. While Theos [Stamina Potion] wore down by the moment, he couldnt stop himself from participating in the talk.

Yeah, and then Theo left his chair in the swamp, Zankir said, trying to keep his voice low. It was hard when he was laughing between statements. Can you imagine? Someone is going to trudge their miserable butt to the dungeon, only to find a fine wooden chair waiting for a resting buttock.

Tresk put on her best pompous voice. She bowed at the waist. Honorable chair of the swamp. Venerable furniture of the bog. What is your wisdom?

What is your story, dear adventurer? Theo asked. Sit, and regale me.

The group carried on for some time. Too loudly, perhaps. They were near enough to the butchers building that the door swung open. The Toora woman, Whisper, strode forth. Theo shrunk back, trying to get behind Tresk. The Marshling was more suited to take the angry blows of a woken-up bear-person. But Whisper produced links of dried wolf sausage from nowhere, thrust them into Zankirs hands before turning around and vanishing back into her building.

The group of adventurers shared concerned looks with their Archduke, then burst out laughing again. They split up the dried sausage and chatted for a while as they ate it. No one else seemed to care, and Whisper didnt burst forth with more dried meats. Theo and Tresk broke off from the group after a while. Alex was still asleep in the satchel, snoring with the occasional honk-like snore.

It was hard not to ignore sleep entirely and process his new flower. As Theo drew closer to his bed, exhaustion set in. With a few drops of [Cleansing Scrub] over his head, the alchemist kicked off his new boots and settled into his bed. His desire for comforts was growing by the day. Their bedroom was too small, with too few amenities. A nice palatial manor, perhaps on a raised bit of earth with a sturdy fence, was in order. Concerns like that washed away as he fell asleep, dropping into the dream realm.

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