Thursday, November 10, 2011

Day Seventy-Four: Bog slog

Man. I'm all wet again, diary. I'm spending the night in a freaking log, sleeping in my armour, 'cause I don't have anything else to sleep in. I've lost everything I brought. Everything! And June wouldn't give me any replacements, 'cept for some new wading boots! I'm gonna get sick again at this rate!

This swamp sucks. The boardwalks are all rotted out this far in, so I have to either wade through the muck or do little jumps from tree to tree. The jumps, 'specially in ARMOUR, usually don't work out so well. Even my little rat friend is wet, 'cause I keep falling in the muck. (I've got you wrapped up in a big sack I filched from the witch, so you'll be safe, diary. I hope. Don't need you smelling any more like my socks.)

The map June gave me doesn't have a sense of scale, and I suck at directions, so I'm not sure how much further I have to go. I barely even know WHERE I'm going, diary. June didn't describe the entrance to these stupid ruins, and the map isn't very detailed. Just shows a few landmarks to look for. Weird-shaped trees, big rocks, gaps in the swamp, that sorta thing. Not helpful.

Maybe I shoulda stayed in Goblinoster after all. Being a circus attraction and the play-toy of a nurse isn't so bad. At least I got fed. Out here all I've had is a mushroom, and I spent the next three hours throwing up. No more doing mushrooms for me.

Anyway. After many long hours of wet, wet walking, I found this log, and I curled up in it. I'm hoping nothing comes to eat me in the night. There's surprisingly little life in the swamp that I can see during the day. I don't know why. It's kinda creepy. I expected mosquitoes to be bugging the hell out of me, but the most I've seen are little fireflies in the dark.

Sigh. Wandering in the middle of nowhere with only a vague sense of direction? Sounds pretty familiar. I miss guarding stuff. I never needed a map. Cartography is balls, I say!


Dragomir the Adventurer

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