Drektor (prime)/Vignette: Part 1 The Swamp

The midday heat of the sun began blaring down between the canopy of the trees in the Lower Trollfang. Despite it only being spring, the temperatures were warm. 


His misty grey eyes roamed over the landscape with a calculated glare.  He hates this swamp, particularly this one.  It extends as far out as he can see as he attempts to stay at its edge. Immediately he is thankful for the misty halo above his head that allows him to walk above the muck.  It does nothing, however, to mask the stench, the humidity, or the insects that insist on eating him alive. 


Before long he finds what he is looking for. The structure where he became afflicted. Half the building collapsed by time, the rest overgrown with weeds, sure to be claimed by the swamp in a matter of time. 


Taking a hesitant breath, he opens the ajar door, the rotting wooden floor buckling under his heavy footsteps.  Broken boards of what's left of the ceiling allow beams of sunlight to illuminate the shack. "There's nothing here..." 


In the middle of the floor, there's a sign of a campfire showing whoever built the fire chose the floor over the crumbling fireplace. But judging by the remnants that was clearly ages ago. "I won't find answers here..."


Exiting the ruined structure, he momentarily forgets where he is and takes a deep breath of foul swamp air.  His face contorts to a sneer--perhaps half for the stench and the other for finding no clues.


Emerging from the swamp leaves him once again in a familiar environment, the Central Caravansary. 


"Bandit territory..." Making a quick gesture with a single hand, he focuses on his Sigil of Offense and Defense as he continues southward.