“Wait, wait, wait, let me get this straight. While we were all sleeping, a banshee, as in a wailing ghost, just turned up at our camp and you made a deal with it?!” Nethlia asked incredulously. 

Autumn sighed. “As I’ve said the last three times, yes, I made a deal with the ghost or else we’d all be dead.” 

Upon her waking with the golden light of dawn, Autumn had informed her party of their late night ghostly visitation. Although she informed them about the hag in the mire, she kept the specifics of her pact to herself and the whereabouts of the banshee now. She felt it’d just bring up awkward questions she’d rather not answer, such as where she got the soul cage. 

They were understandably shocked.

“So, you’re telling us that not only do we need to clear out a goblin encampment, that we still don’t know the side of, but a swamp-hag as well? Don’t you know how dangerous they are?! That’s a gold-rank threat level. Hells, maybe even higher!” 

Liddie shook her head rapidly. “We shouldn’t even consider going after it!”

Autumn shifted awkwardly in place as Liddie spoke. 

“You don’t have to help me, but I have to see this through. I made a pact with the banshee and there’s no going back from that without consequences. At best I’ll lose my magic, at worst my life.” And that was understating things, Autumn was acquainted with the cruelty of the fae. 

Who knows what grim fate awaited failure? 

While she’d not defined a timeframe for her end of the deal, she’d not take it lightly. 

“Yet you won’t even tell us what the deal is? Don’t think I didn’t notice. Can we even trust the information a banshee would give? They hate the living.” Liddie said as she stared distrustfully at Autumn. 

It wasn’t like Autumn wanted to lie to them, but how well did she know these people?

Did she trust them to guard her back in a fight? Absolutely, they’d proven themselves in that regard. But in terms of her greater secrets? She didn’t know. Would they kill her if they learned she was an outsider to this realm? That was a question she’d not figured out yet. Until she could answer that, she’d keep her cards close to her chest.

As the pair glared at one another, Nethlia strode between them. 

“Enough! If Autumn doesn’t want to share the details, that’s her business. What we need to discuss is what we are going to do about it.” Nethlia turned to Autumn. “Is there anything else the banshee told you, anything about this hag or the goblins?”

“She said the hag was called Mildred, the Finger-Eater, but she didn’t know where exactly the hag was, only that she was in the mire nearby. She said nothing about the goblins.”

Nethlia rubbed her chin in thought. “Has anyone heard of this ‘Mildred’ before?” 

The rest of the party shook their heads negatively. It wasn’t that surprising as none of them frequented this area. Likely the elders of Bogward would know, but it was far too late to turn back. 

“Any hag, known or not, is a blight upon all things right and true. It’d be a boon upon the world to rid it of this evil.” Nelva said righteously. 

“Pff. Say that when the hag is making a necklace of your intestines!” Liddie replied. 

“What dae we aim tae gain, besides riddin the world of a pest an completin the deal?” Edwyn asked and all eyes turned to Autumn. 

Autumn bit her lips in hesitation. 

“The banshee said that the hag has some expensive and powerful magic items in her lair that we could have once we kill her.”

Liddie blinked before grinning in avarice, all her earlier caution cast to the winds. “Why didn’t you lead with that?!”

Autumn glared at the pirate. “Is loot all you think about?” 

“Nope. I think about sex and booze, neither of which is abundant in a swamp. Oh, I get it now. The banshee promised you something magical the hag has. That’s why you didn’t tell us about any loot.”

Autumn flushed. “No! I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t certain about what it was even! I didn’t want to give false information.”

“Surrre~” Liddie drawled. 

“I said enough!” Nethlia barked. “We can deal with this after we deal with the goblins. Everyone, pack up camp while I inform the other captains about this hag. No fighting. Any of you.”

As Nethlia strode off, the rest of the party hurried about to pack up their meager supplies. A terse silence occupied the group as odd looks shot back and forth. Before long, the ruins they’d claimed as rest now lay bare with nary a sign of passage, the embers of the fire doused in the swamp waters. 

The mire was as trudging and tangled as the day before. Stagnant waters lay clogged with rotten filth underneath the shade of the twisting trees while high above the dark skies unleashed their constant deluge. The hidden sun had a hard time finding the adventurers and guards as they pressed their way through the groves, accompanied by the ever-present buzz of insects.

Halfway through the day’s journey, an obstacle forced them to divert from their guide’s intended path. In the past few days, this section of the mire had become impassable under the rigors of nature and rain. A new sinkhole now yawned in front of them, guzzling the mud and water.

“Is this unusual?” Captain Ekrus asked their guide. 

Malthor looked up from where he was gazing into the deep abyss. “It’s strange, but not unusual. Under the mire runs the Underwoods, a series of twisting caverns and tunnels carved by the rains and trees. Sometimes things just slip into it. We’ll have to take a detour that I know, but I’m not sure if it’s occupied.”

“Occupied?” 

“Hmm.” Malthor hummed. “It’s a tunnel of trees that is a favorite of all kinds of denizens.”

As Autumn was listening she felt a tug on her sleeve. Looking over she saw a nervous looking Pyre holding a pot of slightly familiar looking healing cream. 

“Hey, um Autumn? How-how are your injuries? I made some healing cream from your recipes in my downtime. It didn’t turn out as powerful as the sample you gave me, but it still possesses some healing properties. I’ve already given some to Edwyn.”

Autumn rolled her wrist and winced at the twinge of pain, but that was all. She was astounded at the effectiveness of even a so-called ‘minor’ Healing Potion. What would have taken weeks of recuperation was done in days. If she found a way home, she was definitely taking as much of it with her as she could; it’d be revolutionary even if just to study the effects.

“My wrist hurts just a little. There's just some bruising left on my eye-socket and ribs, but they're mostly healed. Could you apply some to my wrist? It’s kind of hard to do it with my fingers the way they are.”

Pyre started. “Oh, sure!” 

The cooling balm graced Autumn’s wrist. Immediately she could tell the difference; there wasn’t that trace of calming joy within. However, it was still magical and would heal her all the same. 

Autumn smiled at Pyre in thanks. 

It didn’t take all that long to get to their detour point, an hour at most, even with the rough terrain. 

A grand arboreal tunnel stretched out before them like an enormous hall where the thick trees stood in place of towering pillars, holding up a twisted ceiling of boughs and leaves. The cavernous structure echoed with the screeching of hundred-thousand bats as they fluttered between vine-coated trees and dodged around spiderwebs of gigantic proportions. In the distance the dull light of an overcast sky broke into the dark demesne, showing them the way out.

However, it was clear that this strange lair was occupied as was alluded to earlier as decorating the entrance was a vast array of animal bones, chewed and broken.

“Hmm. This might be a problem.” Malthor said as he touched the bones. “This is a warning or territory marker. Whatever left it is clearly intelligent, or at least semi-intelligent. I doubt it’ll be best pleased to see us trespassing, so we’d best step lightly.”

The adventurers all turned to look at the clanking horde of guards and their blustering captain. 

“Not likely to happen.” Nethlia huffed. “I’d recommend that the rogues lead the way.” 

Ekrus turned to Captain Xiltuil. “Do you mind taking the lead? Scout ahead with your Red Scorpions and see what we’re dealing with?” 

The Umbra elf nodded before disappearing alongside his party into the gloomy tunnel. 

After giving them a few moments to scout ahead, the rest of the adventurers picked their way into the tunnel after them, the clanking Duskguards trailing behind. Underfoot the roots weaved together into a lattice that served as ample footing in the otherwise flooded grounds.

Pyre decided to take advantage of the moment and harvested a few pots of ingredients from the masses of crystallized bat guano that dotted the floor. Autumn hoped they wouldn’t go into any potions they’d drink. Although her memory was fuzzy about it, she recalled that the excrement was an excellent fertilizer and people had once used it in the production of gunpowder and explosives.

Perhaps the alchemist was making gunpowder bombs? 

A worrying thought. 

After only a half hour of walking, Captain Xiltuil returned to report. 

“The tunnel is relatively clear to about halfway aside from a few giant spiders laying in ambush, easy enough to avoid. However, in the middle of the tunnel there is a troll lair.” 

“Shit, just our luck!” Captain Ekrus swore. “Did you get a good look at it? Any clue as to its type or temperament?”

Captain Xiltuil shook his head. “No, we couldn’t get too close. It looked…aware, I think it already knows we’re here. For as dumb as they are, they can be rather cunning and observant when they want to be.”

All the adventurer captains looked pensive at the information. Autumn hadn’t a clue what kind of troll they were talking about; there were so many different types in Earthen literature that it was hard to keep track. 

“You think we can sneak past it?” Captain Gilralei asked. “Or can we negotiate with it?”

Captain Xiltuil smirked behind his facemask. “I highly doubt we can sneak past an awake troll with that lot.” 

As if to emphasize his point, Captain Morlech blundered his way up towards them making enough noise to wake the dead. The overweight captain was red in the face despite his teal skin-tone. He’d not been having a good time marching through the swamps; already his belt was much looser than before. 

“What’s all this holding up for?! Why are we stopping?! If this is another one of your damn adventurer’s ploys!”

The Duskguard captain’s bluster was met with cold, hard stares of the gathered adventurers. More than one was thinking of ‘losing’ him in the swamps before they made it home. 

Being the most level-headed of the gathered captains, Captain Arsit addressed the pudgy captain. 

“There’s a troll lair up ahead, it’s proving an obstacle with some of the expedition’s ‘abilities’.”

“A troll?!!” Captain Morlech squealed in anger. “And we're wasting our time discussing it like a bunch of old maids?! Just kill the hells-damned thing and get on with it!!”

Captain Arsit turned on the captain with a look of cold contempt. “Have you ever seen a troll in your life?” 

Huffing in embarrassed anger, Captain Morlech mustered his bravado. “Those savages?! What noble Duskgaurd captain hasn’t. I’m surprised your lot could even recognize one.”

Unbothered by his false courage, Captain Arist continued. “Then you should know that they have the strength to toss a boulder with enough force to shatter a city gate. You should also know that their jaws can crush bones and bend metal, and that they delight in feasting on fatty flesh.”

Captain Arist smiled as sweat beaded heavily on the other captain’s oily skin. 

“And you should also know that the best way to deal with them is to either cast them into sunlight.” He gestured to the near pitch darkness of the cavern-like tunnel. “Or negotiate with them.” 

“So, keep your trap shut so we might get past it without provoking its ire.”

The guard captain looked like an overripe tomato as he glared at the gathered captains and adventurers. 

“You’ll regret talking to me that way!!” 

Captain Arist smiled. “I’m sure I will. Now, how about we go meet our lovely, soon-to-be acquaintance?”