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<blockquote data-quote="GlassEye" data-source="post: 6690605" data-attributes="member: 40413">Seven days stretch long as if time is reluctant to leave these days behind.&nbsp; It is hot, the drone of cicadas rises and falls in endless cycle, and most of the group pass their days in lazy search for food.&nbsp; Water is plentiful and supplies scavenged from the abandoned horses' saddlebags will keep the group when they venture into the swamps.&nbsp; Eventually everyone is healed and ready to finish the demon-hound and save the town of Hirot.The high ground of the forest where Hirot and the serpent mound sit gives way to a strange sunken land.&nbsp; Tangles of briars and withered oaks replace copse and field.&nbsp; Foul black mud sucks at your boots with every step.&nbsp; The air is warmer here, like the breath of a great beast exhaling rot upon the land and it hangs in ragged, gray mists.After hours of struggling through the mud, avoiding the gurgling of hot springs smothered by mud, the group makes their way to the heart of the swamp, the lair of the Hound.&nbsp; In this foul place any hint of the sun is lost in thick gray mists, and a heavy oppression hangs in the air with the stench of sulfur springs.&nbsp; All the swamp seems to drain to this point, an ominous sinkhole obscured by billowing clouds of black miasma.</blockquote>

[QUOTE="GlassEye, post: 6690605, member: 40413"] Seven days stretch long as if time is reluctant to leave these days behind. It is hot, the drone of cicadas rises and falls in endless cycle, and most of the group pass their days in lazy search for food. Water is plentiful and supplies scavenged from the abandoned horses' saddlebags will keep the group when they venture into the swamps. Eventually everyone is healed and ready to finish the demon-hound and save the town of Hirot. The high ground of the forest where Hirot and the serpent mound sit gives way to a strange sunken land. Tangles of briars and withered oaks replace copse and field. Foul black mud sucks at your boots with every step. The air is warmer here, like the breath of a great beast exhaling rot upon the land and it hangs in ragged, gray mists. After hours of struggling through the mud, avoiding the gurgling of hot springs smothered by mud, the group makes their way to the heart of the swamp, the lair of the Hound. In this foul place any hint of the sun is lost in thick gray mists, and a heavy oppression hangs in the air with the stench of sulfur springs. All the swamp seems to drain to this point, an ominous sinkhole obscured by billowing clouds of black miasma. [/QUOTE]

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