Nobody knows what the fog holds mystery
Or how long it has been in history
All passing merchants tell of night singing
Horrifying shouting that poke spines crawling
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Rumen…hand…ceiling, collapsed…taken…thrown…something, pulled Isaac…water…
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Isaac gasps awake, earthy water coughing out his panting chest. He looks around but there is only a fog. The alteration spell had worm off and, looking down at the side of his legs are bodies—dozens of dwarven bodies. Ringing, his ears ring him dizzy before memory comes back to him. Rumen dug out the ceiling of the underground plateau and scooped a handful of dwarves but she suddenly threw them all and his back aches, pulling him back to the present. “Guess I should be fortunate…” He says, watching the dozens more of dwarven bodies spewing out of the pipe and being munched on by marsh flies, mosquitos and rats.
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His clothes and hair are all damp and the air is deathly chilling. Only the sound of trickling water echo in the mist, worst is that he cannot see what is in front of him. He swats away the fog but it stands as a wall. Slapping himself awake, thinking that this might be a dream but no. Only the familiar muddy soil tells him that he is in the foggy marsh. Where the lord magister would ask him to ride for a tower, wait and then leave. Never exploring further, even when he asked him once, the lord magister advised him not to.
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Thinking about it brings him to scrutinize wilted flowers. Dark purple colored with the brown muck of marsh mud. It is nothing special, certainly not. And “Where do I go?” asking himself will not bring rescue. “Lord Magister?” He calls out but there is no one to hear him, other than rippling murky waters and stirring blades of tall grass.
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Buzzing and zapping, mosquitos and flies flying all around him and along floating bigger sized black masses. Rats and lungfishes coming out of its black rotten wounds. Their rags resemble the criminals and slaves back at the Fogsight fort. Stepping once, then stepping twice. The mud taking its time to eat his feet all the way up to his ankles. “Anyone there?” He tries to run only to stumble and fall forwards into a murky pool. Its cold waters pucker his lips. Air, there is no air. Only the sound of someone drowning—gurgling—moaning. And the obscure sight cuts for a lady whose one eye is gouged out and half of her face is a skull. Skeletal hands grab and pulls the boy deeper.
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Grunting and trying to push himself away from this thing, but his hands cannot touch it. His breath shortens and slowly losing consciousness. Slowly, losing consciousness as the thing knowingly smiles. Is this the end of him? To be drowned by this thing? “Isaac!” He hears the lord magister call out to him, an image of him and himself peacefully sitting on a stone at familiar plains. ‘Lord Magister, Lord Magister’ Isaac tries to call out to him but only his remaining air bubbles out of his mouth. The cold choking his throat and his nervous thumping scrapes his lungs. ‘I’m afraid, Lord Magister’ And fear sinks his abdomen before his eyes coat itself in darkness.
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The nasty marsh water geysers out the boy. Felling him to the mud where he fell from.
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“Lord Magister, Lord Magister” sniffling and sneezing, coughing out a dead man’s finger and wonders not about it. “Where are you…” crunching against the branches and barefoot against prickly stones. Parting away the tall grass as he keeps his head up and forward. Eyes searching for an old man who wears purple robes but his cold shoulders hug him tight. There is no lord magister or Ober around this foggy marsh. Not when he mutters to himself that the lord magister is busy with the festival preparations. He reminds himself that he is only a servant, only a servant that can be replaced. Then a black hand grabs his ankle. Its torn flesh hanging and Isaac looks down at the murky pool where a smile is staring up to him.
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Pulling the boy in. Twisting his ankle and drowning his scream underwater. But then again, fear rises up to his chest, and his eyes blacken. Geysering himself off the pool as a hollowed wail echo throughout the fog. The boy does not know why and he does not want to think about anything else. Simply stand against his badly twisted left foot and run in one direction.
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Not even a moment’s rest is thought about as he staggers on branches and dense grasses that tried to tumble him forward. Coughing himself and puking out excess water before once again feeling a hand, now on his right ankle. An old man’s wrinkly hand but without a head. “Get away!” Isaac yells, attracting unwanted splashing and thrashing in the tall grass.
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Something coming for him. Suddenly, a giant rat surfaces, its mouth wide open. Then a giant centipede, thrice the rat’s size as it ambushes the ambusher and tumble themselves into the pool of the headless—freeing his right ankle. It stabs the rat with the horn on its head while the dark, dead hands pull both creatures into their hungry mouths. Leaving bubbling and Isaac panting through his stagger.
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There is really no time for him to be staring about what happened or thinking about the lord magister saving him. Isaac runs, his left ankle aching badly. A large shadow of a wolf loom over yonder and above mountains. Its roar loud enough to knock back Isaac into another pool. This time with bioluminescent mushrooms. Gods forsake these murky pools!
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Again, dark things try to pull him down deep. His eyes black and once again geysering himself towards the branch of a tree. For the first time, he catches the foggy marsh as black and white, quick enough before his eyesight returns to normal. Buzzing something buzzing and another snarling behind him. Isaac does not look behind as he rolls himself off the tree branch. A spider had pounced for him and a giant mosquito stabs the creature. Its mistake. And Isaac is on the run once more.
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“Help!” He shouts out loud, “Help me!”
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The fog grows thicker. And chomped off bodies float on larger sized pools. Strangely, there are vine bridges allowing him to safely cross. Flags planted in the mud but he does not notice. Only the heads of large reptiles drifting on the water surface. Glowing minnows and other fishes, as well as croaking livens the surface empty marsh. Patches of ash, unnatural earth spires or depressions, and a distant withered tree that hums. Its soft breeze calls for the boy to come closer.
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Tethering skeleton branches hang sacs bundles of sacs covered in string. Isaac pays no mind, his eyes wary of what is in front of him but it is just the mist. Then danger chitters above him. A monstruous growl before Isaac looks up and see its 30 eyes entirely on its head and eight legs—A giant marsh spider! It lunges straight down at the boy but then a childlike figure kicks it away and into a pool, having the dark entities feast on it. His savior—disappearing into the mist.
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“Wait!” Isaac’s voice echo and snaps open the hanging sacs which contained thousands, if not millions of baby marsh spiders raining down onto him.
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Isaac screams in horror as the swarm of baby spiders rain down upon him, their tiny legs skittering across his skin. He frantically brushes them off, stumbling backwards into the murky water once more. The spiders cling to his clothes and hair, their fangs too small to pierce his flesh, but their presence is enough to send shivers down his spine.
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As he thrashes in the water, trying to rid himself of the arachnid infestation, a low, guttural growl emanates from the depths. The water churns and bubbles, and a massive, serpentine creature rises from the depths. Its scales are a sickly green, covered in algae and moss, and its eyes glow an eerie yellow. The creature's maw opens wide, revealing rows of jagged teeth, each as long as Isaac's forearm.
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Isaac freezes, his heart pounding in his chest as the creature looms over him. But just as it is about to strike, a high-pitched shriek pierces the air. A giant bat, its wingspan as wide as a house, swoops down. It latches onto the serpent's neck with its razor-sharp claws, and the two beasts thrash and writhe in a deadly dance.
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Taking advantage of the distraction, Isaac hauls himself out of the water and limps away as fast as his injured ankle will allow. The mist swirls around him, disorienting and thick, but he pushes on, desperate to escape this nightmarish realm.
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As he stumbles through the marsh, strange, bioluminescent fungi cling to the gnarled trees, casting an eerie blue glow. Whispers seem to emanate from the fungi, voices of the lost and damned, screaming and yelling for help.
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Suddenly, a hand reaches out from the mist and grabs Isaac's wrist. He yelps in surprise, but as he turns to face it, he sees the child-like figure who had saved him from the giant spider. Up close, he realizes that the figure is not a child at all, but a diminutive, wrinkled creature with large, bulbous eyes and a mouth full of sharp, needle-like teeth.
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"Follow," the creature hisses like rustling of dead leaves. "Safe place, not far."
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Isaac's heart races as he stares at the peculiar creature, its bulbous eyes reflecting the eerie glow of the bioluminescent fungi. The whispers from the fungi seem to grow louder, urging him to follow the mysterious being. Yet, a deep-seated wariness holds him back, his mind reeling with the horrors he has already encountered in this nightmarish marsh.
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"I... I don't know," Isaac stammers, his voice trembling. He hesitates, glancing back at the swirling mist behind him, as if expecting another monstrosity to emerge at any moment. "Who are you? Where will you take me?"
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The creature tilts its head, studying Isaac with an unblinking gaze. "Safe place," it repeats, its voice a rasping whisper. "Away from danger. Come, follow."
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Isaac's thoughts race, torn between the promise of safety and the fear of the unknown. He takes a step back, his injured ankle throbbing with pain. "The Lord Magister," he blurts out, the question tumbling from his lips unbidden. "Do you know where he is?"
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The creature shakes its head slowly, its needle-like teeth glinting in the dim light. "No Lord Magister here. Only temporary safety for lost ones, like you."
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Isaac's heart sinks at the creature's response. He had hoped, foolishly perhaps, that the Lord Magister would somehow appear and rescue him from this hellish place. But now, faced with the reality of his situation, he realizes that he is truly alone.
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The creature senses Isaac's hesitation and takes a step closer, its voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "Food in hut. Books to read. Weapons, armor to play with. Stone figure to stare at. Want to help you, I do."
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Isaac's eyes widen at the mention of food and books, the simple comforts of home seeming like distant memories in this twisted landscape. Yet, a part of him remains wary, suspicious of the creature's intentions.
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The creature's patience seems to wear thin as it snarls, its bulbous eyes narrowing. "Danger awaits if you stay. Follow, or face consequences."
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Isaac swallows hard, his mind racing with the possible fates that await him if he refuses the creature's offer. The whispers from the fungi grow more insistent, their voices blending into a cacophony of desperate pleas.
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With a heavy sigh, Isaac nods, his shoulders slumping in resignation. "Alright," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll follow you."
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The creature's mouth twists into a semblance of a smile, its needle-like teeth glinting in the dim light. It turns and begins to hobble away, its gait uneven and jerky.
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Isaac limps after the creature, his injured ankle sending jolts of pain up his leg with every step. The mist swirls around them, its tendrils curling and twisting like grasping fingers. Strange silhouettes dance at the edges of Isaac's vision, their forms indistinct and ever-shifting. They weave between twisted trees and skirt around bubbling, noxious pools, the creature seeming to know the safest path through the treacherous terrain.
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At last, they arrive at a small, dilapidated hut, its walls made of mud and sticks, its roof thatched with reeds. The creature ushers Isaac inside, and he collapses onto the earthy dirt floor, exhausted and trembling.
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"Rest now," the creature says, its eyes glinting in the dim light. "Safe here, for now. But beware, young one. The marsh is hungry, and it always finds a way to feed."
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With those ominous words, the creature slinks back out into the mist, leaving Isaac alone with his thoughts and the weight of the horrors he has witnessed. On a wooden table is a pocket note, written for girls named Marana and Mariah. The words on the beginning paragraphs are sweet with the writer telling Marana to take care of her sister but it becomes hurried down the later lines, saying that they should keep away from the marsh. And the account focuses more of himself and what he encountered. Giant rats, alligators, oversized insects, glowing fishes, and murlocks. The note ends with the ink scribbling. Murlock…it told the boy to wait. But as if he is going to simply wait around for it to eat him! It said that the marsh is hungry, so must be that thing! And the boy frantic himself out of the hut and back into the fog.
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Further and further, he runs in one direction but the mist does not seem to end. His arms yearn for the cloak that the magister always ask to wear for him every time they visit the marsh. Then, he hears something slippery and gnarly calling out to him. It’s the wretched murlock!
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Keep running and keep running and he actually forgot about how badly broken his left foot is that it is facing backwards. Isaac screams, loud and louder to forget the pain. Once again attracting creatures to have a hungry wild party with each other and the dark entities. Screaming and screaming, everything he has into his voice. Until he bumps on something warm—someone, a girl with pink short cut hair that is carrying Mira on her shoulder. Mira! Their pursuer from Orlorn plains that made the magister nervous, but then she is dead…? Unconscious? How she is slumping on this pink girl’s shoulder means to Isaac that she got defeated.
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Fear incessantly fills his chest and his eyes blackened.
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She slightly lowers her lips…uttering silent words or simply in shock? One blink of Isaac’s eye and she is gone. Suddenly, she is behind him whispering words into his ear that reminds him of the old man. His legs weaken and his mind blanks before his body falls and lean against the girl. Fear still holds his rapidly beating chest as he calls out for the lord magister.
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“Sleep now” Her voice pierces through his fright, filling his heart with unnerving warmth and strangely comforting when a second ago was scary hell. “Sleep now or I will slap you to sleep.”
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