Day Three: Into the Boglands
And so the adventurers settle in for an uncomfortable night in the boglands. Lem does his best to provide some flavor with dinner. With a bit of guidance, he scrounges up a nice collection of wild herbs, including some rosemary and even a few wild onions. During the night, the remoteness of the camp site becomes impossible to ignore. There is little moonlight, and clouds often hide that little bit of celestial illumination. Noises in the dark are ubiquitous. Buzzes, chirps, croaks, splashes, hisses. Things flutter overhead unseen but not unheard. Bog vapors and fog catch sounds and light, casting both about to play tricks on the ears and eyes.
When morning comes, the fog hangs heavy. Visibility more than a casual stone throw's away is reduced to gray shadows. The damp chill does little to discourage the ever-present clouds of swarming insects from flying into eyes, buzzing into ears, sucking on exposed flesh. It seems as if only movement keeps the bugs at bay. As soon as one stops walking, the pests return.
If dawn is the first hour, the adventurers see the Iparoc Mounds in the distance around the fourth hour. By this time, the rising sun has burned away the fog. Visibility is good. The Mounds appear to be natural hillocks only at a cursory glance. With a more careful look, it is obvious their slopes are too regular, too rounded, to be anything other than man-made.
Of course, there are numerous signs of life, not counting the insects. Swamp birds strut through shallows or wing through the air. Rustling in reeds and grass indicates the presence of mice or rats. A turtle slides from its basking place into the relative safety of the water. One thing not immediately visible, however, are goblins. Of course, since goblins dislike sunlight, this isn't surprising. It seems most likely they lurk in whatever lair they have built.
