"So would you sell him to us?" asked the old woman, pointing at Gob, "The troll hag might take him as a trade to challenge the thing that guards the centre of the swamp."

"Ha ha ha! Gladly!" said Leőn "Do you have anything to trade that's worth a baby troll?"

"go pik a prity purpl flowa, wobbly." Gob retorted.

"IT TALKS!? IT'S A BABY TROLL!?" exclaimed the woman in surprise.

"Gob is one of us." answered the White Orc.

"i iz not big, but i iz not babee trolspawn. i iz muntin trol. i neva saw a trol hag befor. i no wan to eiver. big trol aways sed dey iz a bit fitey."

Leőn was stifling laughs.

The woman turned to him, "And yes, we have much to trade for anything you have that would help us. We might look poor to you but we have a lot of 'trinkets' that seem to excite the rare visitors we see. In fact the trinkets are the only reason we get any visitors at all."

Leőn had stopped laughing now, interested. "Trinkets? In a putrid bog? What could you possibly have here that anyone would want?"

She pulled a large and extremely ornate gold coin from what could only have been an inventory. It had a detailed, symmetrical geometric pattern on both sides depicting an eight armed being sitting cross-legged with symbols and shapes that could have been a sort of writing radiating out from it.

Leőns eyes widened in surprise. He looked at the woman with shock. "You have more of these?" he asked, he looked at the White Orc with a concerned expression.

"Yes, yes... Everyone always asks the same question. So you want to get rich too do you Elf?"

"No old woman, you mistake his intention." The White Orc told her "The source of these 'trinkets' will be the source of your 'curse', though I doubt it's a curse at all. I'd say you have an ancient alchemy problem." He turned and grinned widely at Leőn, "and I just became very interested in helping you."

"Oh, why did it have to be alchemy again?" groaned Leőn not just rolling his eyes but getting his whole face involved. "It's the most boring topic of all. I'd rather talk about FATE all day. " He looked at Gob "Where is the nearest purple flower so I can just end it quickly."

Gob pointed one out for him.

Kylie coughed and wheezed and hocked.

The White Orc turned to Gob. "It's up to you." he said, "It's your quest we're here for, and every delay holds us back from getting to Cragtop."

Gob nodded, "but we iz lost in a swamp. so mibby helpin deez peepl iz da only way to get frew da swamp aniway. juz don let leon sel mi to da trol hag."

"We accept your terms woman." said the Orc, "Lead us to your village."

The old woman's face lit up, and she smiled hopefully. "My name is Paula, these two are Criff and Henny."

"This is Kylie, Leőn and Gob," said the Orc, "and I am the White Orc."

"hiz nam is garfoon, but he didn no dat until yezerday an he dozen lik it so don call him dat." said Gob.

Criff, the boy, laughed and nervously walked over to Gob and just stood there staring at him. He was dressed in a simple brown tunic that blended with the surroundings. He was the same height as Gob and looked at him curiously, eye to eye, weighing him up, then said.

"My name's Criff."

"i iz gob"

"Cool tail." the boy said.

"fanks." said Gob, "i ony got it yezerday too, an so far i don lik it. esept iz good for wakkin zombeez wiv. i wakked a lot of zombeez yezerday. orso I haz lotz of doze gold coinsz. de zombees gave dem to mi."

Criff's eyes went wide, "Grandma these guys have been whacking lurchers and getting their treasure!"

"Hmmmmm," said Paula, "What's our rule about lurchers Criff?"

"WE DON'T NEED THEIR GOLD! BE QUIET OR RUN! FAST!" said the boy.

"dat iz a good rool." said Gob.

The old woman "hmphed" happily at his answer, then turned and gestured for them all to follow her.

She led them on a winding, circuitous route, striding confidently and quite quickly ahead of them, every now and again pausing to speak to the children and pointing out a feature of the swamp, and asking them what they thought about it, or showing them when necessary.

"That was a Quezatl disc." said Leőn quietly to the White Orc as they followed Paula.

The White Orc nodded. "If they discovered an ancient temple, they should also have discovered a temple core, although the woman says she didn't know the cause of the 'curse'... I've never seen a Quezatl temple core for myself, but they are powerful and dangerous things if even half of what I've heard of them is to be believed... if they had found it, she'd definitely know. That might mean they only opened a single level. Even that must have been enough to set off the core. It must have been leeching out into the bog slowly over the course of many years."

"I've only vaguely heard of powerful temple cores, my concern would be with the scythe creatures that apparently protect the treasures," answered Leőn, "although from what she was saying they weren't much of a problem."

"No, they wouldn't be on level one." said the Orc, "The lower levels would be another matter though... and what would a troll hag have to do with any of it?"

"I guess we'll find out soon enough," said Leőn, "although if you start rambling about alchemy, you know I'm going to scream."

"I know you will Elf, I'm looking forward to it!"

Eventually they reached an area that somehow felt somewhat safer than the rest of the swamps they had been traversing. Gob started hopping in and out of the swamp pools as it eased his skin tingling and made him feel better. He figured it must be a feature of his new slimeskin: it continually protected him from the harsh environment, but needed to be regularly replenished by swimming through muddy bogwater. It wasn't nearly as thick or tough as the other hides he had from other affinities, but the healing on it was phenomenally quick... as long as there wasn't carnivorous plant saliva involved. His leg was still recovering from it's puncture wounds.

He'd found a few less suspect looking fish, and eaten them, and they hadn't killed him, so all in all he was starting to get used to the mud.

Once however, the old woman snapped at him when he had jumped in and was about to dive down.

"Not that bog!" she warned sharply, "You'll wake the bogscuttle and we'll be stuck on our island for three days.

"wot a bogscuttle?" asked Gob.

"Have you ever seen a scorpion?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Have you ever seen a crawfish?"

He shook his head.

Imagine a scorpion but with even bigger claws, that shoots through the mud like a charging bull. It's like that, but so, so much worse than it sounds."

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Gob hopped out.

"I think it's a good idea Criff accompanies you." she pointed behind Gob, "He's very knowledgeable. I'm not always going to be able to keep my eyes out for you."

The human boy had been following him like a shadow since they met anyway.

"Wanna go flip pukkas?" asked Criff.

Gob shrugged.

"Ok I'll show you."

He turned and ran off, beckoning for Gob to follow. He pointed to one of the little purple flowers.

"That's a pukka!" said Criff excitedly.

Gob told Criff about his experience in a 'pukka'.

"Oh I already know you've been in a pukka," said Criff, "you stink so bad! They're easy to escape though, you just slit the membrane at the bottom and they spit you right out. But their mouth juice is gross, and if you've got any cuts you'll get poisoned, and you're gunna stink for days even if you have bath after bath after bath!"

Gob sniffed himself self-consciously.

'Flipping pukkas' turned out to be throwing sticks, rocks or clumps of bog mud at just the right spot in front of the purple flowers to trigger their attack.

Criff made it into a game, and before long the two of them along with the other child, a girl named Henny, were laughing and jumping out of the way of the big flowers as they exploded from the muddy ground, snapped at the air and then slurped back down again.

"Is it alright for them to be so loud?" wheezed Kylie to Paula.

"In some parts of the swamp definitely not, but this part is no problem. They know the difference."

Kylie looked around, "It all looks the same to me."

"Actually our village is right over here…" she pointed through the mist to a small wooden jetty that jutted out over a body of muddy water. The water extended away from them into the mist further than they could see. The jetty was a ragged, rotting structure with two small ferry boats attached to long rusted chains that disappeared into the thick brown water. The woman ushered them all into the boats then grabbed the chain of the first ferry and pulled on it heavily.

The White Orc did the same for the other boat, and bit by bit they moved across what turned out to be a very wide muddy lake, the scrabbly trees surrounding the jetty they had just left receding into the mist until there was nothing around them but brown water.

A giant ripple approached the boat, and something bumped against the underside as it passed by. Gob tensed.

"Don't worry about that," Paula said, "that's just Jangles. He's a giant catfish. Completely harmless, actually helpful, as he tends to snap up a lot of the less desirable critters that come swimming in here sometimes. He's been hanging around the village for years."

As if on cue, a white fish's head surfaced out of the muddy water and blew an air bubble with a loud

BLOP!

before disappearing under the water again.

Eventually they all saw another jetty emerge out of the mist, this one with a dim lantern swinging over it, casting a dull yellow light over another rotted timber landing. As they drew closer, buildings started to emerge behind it, dark and dreary, covered in growing mosses and algaes that hung down off the eaves. The buildings were built from thick straight sawn timber logs, but the timber, that was probably once very sturdy, looked rotten and slimy, like everything here.

None of them wanted to be rude, but all of them were wondering how anybody could survive in a place like this.

"You're probably wondering how anybody could survive in a place like this?" said the old woman with half of a sad smile,

"The answer is, 'Many haven't'... in fact of all the towns and villages there used to be across the swamp, we're the last," she said with a sigh, "and the few of us left have no way of leaving even if we wanted to.

"You've seen how dangerous it was the way you came in; it's like that or worse in every direction. We have supplies come in through a channel by armed boat every month to keep us going, but there's no boatman makes the trip for free, and he only leaves with a boatful of treasure, never a person or a family.

"So we've just hung on. Actually, we've learned to be very resourceful and resilient, and we've got a surprisingly strong group of committed families who remember what a great place the bayou used to be and are committed to hanging on for as long as they can in the hope of getting it back to what it used to be... if only we can discover what changed.

"We'd do anything. All we need is a chance."

As soon as the boats pulled up to the jetty the kids leapt off and ran into town yelling the news of visitors at the top of their lungs.

Paula tied the ferry boat up to the jetty and climbed out, "Come and meet everyone!"

The town was on a large island surrounded by the murky water, and was entirely covered in a jumble of buildings rising several stories with peaked dormer roof windows that loomed over rough cobbled streets on the ground level but were regularly criss-crossed by bridges and walkways at higher levels.

"The island floods monthly with the deluge, so no one lives at ground level anymore. When we can't use the streets, we use the walkways." Paula explained gesturing up at them.

Children dressed in ragged mucky clothes had come out to get a look at the visitors, peering down at them from the upper walkways, giggling and pointing and whispering.

In the middle of the island was a large central building raised up off the ground on stilts. There was something very different about this building compared to those that surrounded it. It seemed cleaner, brighter... less... infected.

Paula invited them up the steps to a pair of heavy timber doors. They opened inwardly as she approached them, and an old man stood in the opening, a crowd of villagers at his back. He was bowed and shrunken, but there was something about him that was like the building; a freshness that didn't seem to fit with the drab surroundings.

"We have guests everyone!" Paula announced brightly to the old man and the villagers, "Adventurers who may be willing and able to help us claim back our swamp!"

There was quiet mumbling and surprised whispering from the people behind the old man.

"Do they seek treasures?" grumbled the old man, in a tired raspy tone.

"They seek safe passage." answered Paula.

"Well... that's even harder." he answered gruffly.

Kylie took this moment to

Cooooooouuuuuuuggggh! Hic-tic. Hock!

The old man looked up with concern as he heard her.

"Everybody," he turned to the villagers, "let's make our guests welcome and share with them what's ours to share. Maybe there's hope here yet for our bayou."

The villagers dutifully turned and started hustling and bustling around inside the hall.

The old man descended the steps carefully to where Kylie floated, bloated and brown.

"Hello fairy, you appear decidedly unwell." he said kindly, inspecting her carefully.

Kylie choked a bit, "Well, it's better here than elsewhere in the swamp we just came through. wheeze."

"Well, thank you, I'll accept that as a compliment for now, but come on in, I think I can do much better than that for you inside."

He turned and walked to Paula, embracing her happily "It's always a pleasure to see you home safe again my love."

"Everyone, this is my husband Karl," Paula introduced him, "Karl this is Kylie, the White Orc, Leőn and Gob."

He gave them hard stares, taking them in.

"Well, I've never seen a more rag-tag group of misfits. But if Paula didn't prong you with her fishing spear, that's all the assurance I need that you're our sort of people... we're rag-tag and misfits all; you should fit right in here!"

He smiled then, and when he did, he appeared another sort of person altogether, as though he had been masking himself up until then.

"Come in, all of you, lets eat and drink and we'll tell you the strange story of our plight. Then you can tell us what you might be able to do about it."

Inside the Great Hall in the centre of the village, the air was surprisingly fresh and clean.

A great log fire roared in the hearth in the middle of the room under a large beaten copper chimney flue that hung from the ceiling in the centre of the space so that the fire could be felt and enjoyed by all the villagers, who were in the process of assembling large relocatable tables in a wide ring around it.

Other villagers bustled around getting ready for a welcoming dinner and village meeting, which must have been a regular occurrence, given how efficiently and comfortably they all seemed to work together.

Around the perimeter of the hall, the walls were covered with growing, thriving living plants of a variety of species. Not the mutated or scraggly plants from outside, but vibrant green healthy specimens.

Kylie immediately sensed the improved balance in the air and started taking deep restorative breaths, the strange hic-ticking sound she had been making almost constantly stopped, but all of a sudden she put a hand over her mouth and looked around desperately.

Karl handed her a bowl from a nearby table and the brown sludge came out of her system in a great hacking

HOCK!

"I'm so sorry!" she gasped to Paula and Karl.

HOCK!

"Never you mind that dear," said Paula kindly, "better out than in as they say!"

Kylie was already starting to return to a brighter red colour as they watched.

"How are you affecting the air cleansing in this hall?" asked the White Orc impressed, as he looked around.

"Well," Karl answered, "I was initially trained as a Living Mage. I was the village healer, and I also studied under and then worked alongside our late Alchemical Wright for many years may he rest in peace. But since this all happened," he gestured towards outside, "I realigned my life's work and dedicated my time to combining my Living Magic with Aspect Crafting. I've managed to amalgamate affinities with various locally available substances in order to create physical barriers and air filtration. Aspect Crafting is an incredibly fascinating field you know..."

"Oh no," said Leőn, "Oh please no."

He leaned close and whispered to Paula, "Forgive me if this sounds rude, but is your husband one for... rambling?"

"Oh, you have no idea." she whispered back in an apologetic tone.

"Do you have any wine?" he asked.

"leon dosn lik ramblin, alkemee or prinsess jokes." said Gob to Paula matter of factly, "an don giv him yor good wine coz he'll nik it."

"Gob!" said Kylie.