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“Just follow me, Mari.” You attempt to soothe her misgivings, extending her a pale hand. “I’ll look out for you.”
“..Okay.” The nun takes your hand in hers. “But, let’s please attempt to keep this quick, miss..?”
“Ah.. forgive me. I’ve yet to introduce myself–an unfortunate little habit of mine..” You bow your head. “I am Lady Avalsidal–but you can just call me Ava, if you’d prefer.”
Your journey bears you eastward, where the tough clod of earth beneath your feet grows damp and soft and water begins to pool up in the low troughs around you. You glide effortless over the terrain, your step as light as a breath, but your companion’s.. “heft” does not seem to agree with the change in footing.
“Please.. slow down a little, Ava..” Mari pants behind you, each footfall leaving an ankle-deep imprint into the soft bog ground. The nun’s face grows more and more slick with damp as she steps after you. “It’s just.. a little hard to maneuver. Your house is around here, right..?”
“Mmmm. Well, not quite, sister.” You observe the marsh around you–from what little you know of it, the BROCELIANDE FOREST is a diverse woodland with all manner of different environments about its breadth, from rockland to forest to swamp to pond. A wetland such as this is not uncommon, and yet..
There’s a strange stillness about it. It’s dead quiet–no hums of insects or thrums of frogs. The water is cold, placid, reflective. Very strange.
>Observe the trees–you catch the occasional glint of moonlight off strange carvings in the bark.
>Take a look at the hand in the muck. A body, perhaps..?
>Hurry the nun along. You get the feeling you’d best not tarry.
>Stare at sweaty sister struggling in mud.
>[Write-In.]
