Begin Story

Since dawn you have been looking behind every rock, tree, and cave along your trail, and yet you have not encountered a single mushroom. As the sun reaches its noon peak, you find dry spot on a grassy mound and decide to take a moment. It is then that you notice a very peculiar sight through the trees in a clearing. A haphazard shack sits above the swamp floor. It is cobbled together of rocks and timbers, its wooden supports seem to barely contain the weight as they are loosely strung together with rope that has been left to rot. Smoke appears from a makeshift chimney and a rainbow of light flashes intermittently through the mess of random windows. A breeze carries the smoke from the chimney to your perch and an inviting scent of sweet cream and sea salt passes by your nose. Your stomach rumbles in response and you feel a stir of hunger

You suppose it would be nice to see if a kindly person would offer you a momentary break from the muck and hopefully a bite to eat. People are generally kind to travelers of the swamp as long as you mind your manners and entertain them. You get to your feet, your sludge in your boots squelching in response to your movements. Down the embankment you go, trudging through the mud once again til you are staring up at the shack. Upon closer inspection, the shack is much larger than you anticipated with a number of small offshoot rooms and hidden half-levels. A small and old makeshift rope and wood ladder offers the means to reach the front door.

Gingerly mounting the ladder, you begin your ascension taking care to put light pressure on each rung before moving to the next. You swing one knee onto the porch before hoisting yourself up. The porch is partially covered as roof boards have fallen and decayed to reveal the sky above. The floorboards are in just as bad of shape, all a rotten gray color with random sprays of white staining in the walking path. You approach the front door containing a small plate-sized stained glass window, first stopping to listen to the commotion inside. You hear a voice speaking in alternating low and high tones, interrupted by the occasional clinking bottle, a cabinet opening, or a resounding thud. The heavy smell seems to waft through the door, compelling you to knock. In a daze, you raise your fist and knock three times on the door. The sound startles you as much as it seems to startle the person inside as the commotion stops. A blurry face appears in the window to peer out before quickly shifting out of sight. A second passes by before you hear lock mechanisms begin to turn and the door partially swings open.