[sblock=Karm]As the shimmering air becomes too painful to look at you blink. Suddenly you feel a powerful tug, and you cannot hold on to Volidar's arm. "No!" you hear faintly, as if from a great distance. Then, suddenly everything is quiet again. You are alone, save for your companion; there is no sign of Volidar or Weel.
The first thing that strikes you about your new surroundings is the smell, the heavy, pungent stench of deep swampland: rotting moss and vegetation, stagnant water, a hint of sulfurous swamp gases, and mildew so ubiquitous as to be part of the food chain. You are no stranger to swamps in your wanderings; after all, Verdante loves these lands too, but all your previous dealings with swamps have involved making your way into them and growing gradually accustomed to the smell as it grew imperceptibly thicker. This time, one breath was scented with a fresh breeze through pines, and the next breath finds you in deep swampland.
About thigh deep, you realize suddenly, as the water soaks through your clothing. It is slimy, and the bottom squishes unpleasantly, but at least it is not cold. Your companion whines mournfully as he half-swims, half wades in the muck.
Looking around, you see that it is nearing twilight. There are few trees nearby; indeed the only notable feature of the landscape is a single hill rising out of the swamp perhaps a quarter mile to the north, with a scattering of foliage decorating its slopes. As you look at it, you see a flicker of movement, an orange glow.... could it be a fire?
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