by Adam Drake
His body was covered in sweat, and his throat was dry. But the pain of his leg was completely gone, replaced by the dull ache of his fever.
The hooded man sat across from him, his back against a wall. Leaning up beside him was his bow, and the curved sword, in easy reach. The man was jamming a hand into one of the colored bags which hung from his belt, his arm vanishing up to the elbow. Bags of Holding.
Rob slowly sat up, his body shivering.
The man looked up at him and grinned. “Ah! Back from the edge of death, are ya? Was wondering how long you'd be out.”
Rob heard a dull thudding noise that came from the one wall they'd entered through.
“Oh, never mind them,” the man said. “They're annoyed we're out of reach. Can't get to us in here. Don't you worry.”
Rob looked at where the entrance had been, which now looked like a part of the wall. “How did you do that?”
“That? Stone Barrier. Very handy to have in a pinch. Can seal yourself up good and tight when you need a safe place to rest. Usually. Unfortunately, that was my only one. Have to buy another sharded stone when I get back.”
“So they can't get through that?” Rob asked, the thudding was continuous.
“Nope. Not by those shamblers, anyway. If something comes by, though, with a counter-spell or an explosive type of magic, then we'd have a fight on our hands. But don't worry that doesn't happen often in the Marsh.”
Rob digested this information. He'd seen a lot of shamblers out there. Dozens and dozens. If those things managed to get in, they were dead. But the man seemed confident, his manner at ease. Rob felt he could trust him.
“Thank you,” Rob said, emphatically. “You saved my life out there.”
“Weren't nothing,” the man said jamming his arm down into a different bag. He didn't appear to be having much luck finding what he was looking for. “It's what we adventurers do, eh? Look out for each other when things get thick.”
Rob realized he didn't know the man's name. “My name's Robert, by the way. But everyone calls me Rob.” Or is it Lord Robert, now?
The man's eyes brightened. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Robert. Or Rob. I'm Dorrish Shirrod, Ranger by trade, loot-whore by nature.”
Dorrish Shirrod. His last name was the reverse of his first? Rob was pondering whether it would be rude to ask what was up with that when he glanced down at his thigh.
“The bite is gone!” Rob said, elated. His torn pant leg exposed the bare, unmarked skin of his thigh.
“Yup, that fixed up with the first Major Heal I cast on you outside. So you don't have to worry about bleeding out, anymore. It's that bloody disease ya got we need to focus on.”
Rob felt like crap, hot and feverish. Sweating from his forehead. “What disease is it?”
Dorrish shrugged. “Dunno. A bad one. Still sapping at your hit points, so I've been casting heals on you for the last five hours.”
“I've been asleep that long?” It felt like he'd only closed his eyes for a minute.
He noticed a giant stack of minimized notifications and pulled them up. The first one started back when he was hiding from the Bog Dogs.
You have advanced in Stealth! Skill has increased from 1% to 2%.
You have killed a Bog Dog. You have gained 150 experience points toward your next level.
You are Diseased! You have suffered 1 Hit Point of damage from your festering wound.
The diseased notifications repeated on and on, many times. But they were occasion punctuated with:
Dorrish Shirrod has Healed you for 88 hit points.
This string of notifications repeated.
“My God,” Rob said, amazed. “You've been keeping me alive this whole time?”
“Of course,” Dorrish said. “And shall continue to do so.” He waved at a cluster of healing and mana potions on the floor. “With my reserves I should be able to keep you alive for quite sometime. I'll use the mana ones to keep casting heal, and when those run out, then you can quaff the healings while waiting for my mana pool to regenerate. Won't be overly pleasant for you as the disease will make you feel like dung the entire time, but you won't succumb to it.”
Rob said, “How long will it take?”
“For what?”
“Until I'm cured?”
“Ah, that's the rub, lad. You won't be. Not without a Cure Disease spell or potion, neither of which I have. This potion and spell relay is meant to keep you going until those bloody shamblers loose interest and wander off.”
The dull thumping continued against the barrier as if to underscore Dorrish's words.
Rob wanted to ask how long would it be before those things lost interest, but didn't want to hear the answer. “Thank you,” he said again, suppressing a cough.
Dorrish waved a hand. “It's nothing, lad. Truly.”
“No, I mean it. Thanks. I thought I was dead out there. Those dogs, those shamblers. I wouldn't have made it another minute if you hadn't shown up.”
Dorrish nodded in agreement. “Of that, I am in no doubt. So, did you run out of mana before I found you, or are you lacking a Healing spell?”
“No Healing spell, yet.”
Dorrish made a tsk-tsk noise. “In the Marshes without a Heal. Wait until I tell the lads at the tavern about this! So, what are you doing out here, anyway? You're practically a newborn compared to the vicious nightmares of the Marsh.”
Rob shrugged weakly, “Looking for rats.”
Dorrish looked askance. “Rats? Well, that's just ludicrous if you think about it. Why would any sane person wilfully enter the Marshes looking for a simple rat? Don't they have rats where you're from?”
Rob frowned at the strange question. “Of course. That's the problem. I have a quest to find a rat's lair in the swamp. Got turned around in that damn fog and ended up here.”
“Swamp?” Dorrish said, brow furrowed. “This isn't a swamp. This is the Marsh.” Seeing Rob's confused expression, he said with emphasis, “The Annex Marsh.”
“Annex Marsh?” Rob said, thoroughly lost. “Isn't a swamp and marsh the same thing?”
Dorrish chuckled, shaking his head. “Not in this instance, lad. Maybe where you're from the swamp borders the marsh and you crossed over from one into the other.” He looked at Rob gravely. “I potentially fatal mistake even in the best of circumstances.”
Rob pushed himself up into a better sitting position. His skin practically radiated heat as the fever intensified. “Wait, what do you mean, where I'm from? We're both in the same place.”
“Ah, but we didn't start that way. See, my Annex Marsh borders the vast forgotten city of Un'la, on the jungle peninsula of Jorra'ka. A vast bloody magical dungfest that place is, I'll tell ya.”
Rob blinked at Dorrish. “I'm from Anika. My, uh, kingdom.”
“Anika?” Dorrish said, mulling the name over. “Definitely sounds foreign to me. Gotta map?”
With some effort, Rob took out his Scroll of Location and offered it to Dorrish.
“Well, I'll be,” the man said, impressed. “Scroll of Location. They don't mess around with their maps in Anika, do they? I'm stuck with the old parchment variety. A real bother.” He ran a hand over the scroll's twin rolls. “Nah, we don't have this kind. What is it those uppity scholars like to call these maps? Reactive! That's the word.”
Rob wanted to tell him that back in his real world they had maps with GPS, but he didn't think that conversation would go well.
Dorrish unrolled the Scroll and peered at its map. “Ah, Kingdom of Anika. I see your swamp, but no Annex Marsh. Is this supposed to be you?” He pointed at the little dot at the 'Ruins of Farmstead'. It still hadn't moved.
“That's right,” Rob said. “I went southeast from there to find the Rat Lair, but my location didn't change on the map.”
Dorrish nodded his head. “Well, I wouldn't expect it to.”
“Why not?”
“Turns out your Annex Marsh bleeds over into the swamp and that farmstead area. Se
e the borders of the Marshes shift around, expanding and contracting. It doesn't change its location, but it can morph depending on the circumstances. I'm just baffled as to why its not written here on your map.” He looked it over again. “In fact, there are hardly any details here at all. How long have you been in Anika?”
Eons, Rob wanted to say. “A few days. Four, maybe.”
“Explains why there's nothing here.”
“So, this Annex Marsh, you're telling me it's in more than one place? At the same time.”
“Yup.”
“How is that possible?” Rob said and felt stupid the moment he did. He was living in a damned video game. Anything was possible.
Dorrish shrugged. “Couldn't tell you. But I know for a fact that the Marsh can be accessed in no less than eight other different locations. Well, nine, now, including your Anika. But there could be dozens more spread across the world.”
“I'll take your word for it. For me, I don't ever want to come back here again.”
Dorrish chuckled. “I don't blame you. But, even if you did return to the Annex Marsh, the marsh itself wouldn't be this one.”
“The Marsh changes?”
“Sure,” Dorrish said, and pointed at the Stone Barrier. “See, the next time you come, those shamblers might be something else. Maybe worse. Bog Dogs might not even exist in the next Marsh, replaced by Devil Hounds or Charred Lizards. It always varies to some degree. The last time I was here, it was Vile Corpses which vomit acid at you. And they've got good aim too, unfortunately.”
Despite his feverish haze, Rob was intrigued. “So you've been here before?”
“Yeah.”
“In this Marsh? On purpose?”
“Not this specific Marsh, no. Like I said, it's always different each time you enter. But I've made a good two dozen trips into here over several years.”
“And each time the makeup of the marsh was different?”
“You got it,” Dorrish said with a satisfied nod. He waved his hand around at the little room they were trapped in. “Been in this exact place, before, too. Three, maybe four trips ago. Only that time there was a shapely glow nymph here, and she wanted a certain kind of payment to keep me safe.” He smiled at the memory. “World needs more glow nymphs if you ask me.”
Rob leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling. If he thought this world was strange before, then this put it over the edge. “So I can leave whenever I want? I'm not trapped here?”
“Trapped in the sense that you can't physically leave the marsh?”
“Yeah.”
“Yes, once you find your exit out, then you'll be free to leave.”
“There's an exit?”
“Yeah, one per location, far as I know. Can't leave any other way. Try to cross back at another spot and you just end up looping around, still inside.”
“How do I find my exit, then?”
“A lot of bumbling through the fog, unfortunately. But maybe I can help. There is a trick or two to these things.”
“Wait, can't we use your exit?” Rob asked.
“No, mine leads back to Un'la. If we go to my exit at the edge of the marsh, I'd be able to step through to the other side, and you wouldn't.”
“Why is that?”
Dorrish shrugged. “Ask the Gods.” Seeing Rob's frustration he said, “Look. If I crossed over through my exit point, I'd vanish from here completely. You, however would be stuck here wandering around in the fog until you lucked out and found your exit point, or the marsh finishes you. And I wouldn't be able to come back and help you because-.”
“It'd be a different Marsh,” Rob finished with a sighed. “Okay, I think I get it now. I'm screwed.”
“Nah, don't worry lad. We'll find your exit point, mark my words.”
“You wouldn't be able to cross over with me at all? To Anika? Can't I invite you, or something?” The thought of having this Ranger in his Kingdom would be a boon. Let this guy clean out all the goblins.
“Nah. Doesn't work like that.”
“Too bad. I could have introduced you to Fumi. I think you two would have hit it off.” Or maybe they'd just hit each other.
“Who's that?”
“One of my subjects. A cook.”
“Subject? What's that?”
“A royal subject. I'm her, uh, king.” Fumi may say different.
Dorrish straightened, looking him over. “You're a king? Of what?”
“Anika. Anika is my kingdom.”
Dorrish blinked several times. “Blight the stars! A king! What in the Many Hells is a king doing in the Annex Marsh unescorted? Where's your army?”
“Don't have one.”
“No army? Every kingdom has got an army. It's the one thing that keeps other armies from invading whenever they wanted. That's why kingdoms got them in the first place.”
“Nope, no army.” Except for maybe Fumi. She's an army all on her own.
Dorrish looked him over for several moments, then asked, “Don't mean to be rude, but how did you manage to wrangle a kingship?”
Rob laughed at the question. “I was chosen.”
“By who? The queen? Did you marry into it? I'd believe that.”
“No, I was chosen by the Gods.”
“Gods, huh? Which ones?”
“I dunno. How many are there?”
“Too many,” Dorrish said emphatically. “And it causes all sorts of problems. Anyway, you were chosen by a bunch of Gods to rule this Anika place?”
Rob pointed at his left temple. “Got the mark to prove it.”
“What mark?”
“This one,” Rob said, pointing. “This crescent moon thing.”
“I don't see no mark. I see a lot of dirt.”
“It's there.”
“I have to see this, hold still.” Dorrish leaned in close, licked his thumb, then rubbed it on Rob's temple.
“Hey!” Rob said with disgust. He feebly batted Dorrish's hand away.
“Ah, there it is,” Dorrish said sitting back. “Yes, a crescent moon. What's it mean, the moon symbol?”
“I was hoping you could tell me. Far as I know, it just means I'm the Chosen One.”
Dorrish shrugged. “Probably just a bunch of Godly nonsense they made up to torment you with.”
“That isn't too far from the truth,” Rob said. Wanting to get away from the subject, he asked, “Why do you keep coming back to this nightmare, anyways? I can't imagine doing it more than once, intentionally.” Rob figured the man had a death wish.
Dorrish considered the question. “Well, I do it for the loot and gold. Why else does anyone go adventuring?”
Rob found it hard to believe that there was anything of worth in this godforsaken place, other than pain and suffering. “Have you found any?”
“Oh, sure, lots. It's why I keep coming back. But the one place for the greatest loot is that tower out there.”
Rob blanched at the thought. “Really? But how can anyone get past that spider thing?”
“Oh, it's not easy but it can be done.”
“You've killed that spider?” Rob said, incredulous.
“Not that specific spider, no. And it doesn't look like I'll be doing it this run, either.”
“Wait, does it change like the shamblers?”
“Unfortunately, no. It's always a giant spider, but the species changes. Now, it's a Goliath Tarantula, a real beast, that one. Last time it was a Black Widow the size of a tavern.”
“You killed it?”
“No, my group wiped on it. Only I escaped. But there have been three previous occasions where I killed the spider, with help. One of those times, my group wiped, and I was the only one left. Led the damned thing on a merry chase. It was an Albino Wolfspider, or some such. Anyway, I led it to a World Tree, which I'd never seen in the Marsh before, and got the thing trapped in a pool of the tree's amber!”
“Whoa.”
“Whoa? You want me to stop talking?”
“No, whoa as in that'
s amazing.”
“Ah. Well, of those three times I was only able to gain entry to the tower once, and only into its first floor.”
Rob thought of the flickering orange light in the tower's window. “Was there someone inside?”
“Not that time, no, and maybe that was for the best. Whatever kind of person who could live in such a place in not a person I'd want to meet.”