room3/ToSouthPort

Dungeon23

3.1.2023 ROOM THREE : South to Port

Clay complains at your suggestion.

“Yer no better’n he was! What we supposed to do now, go another endless trek around in circles debating it? Forever? C’mon man, there’s nothing good in Port. It’s full of bandits and pirates, it’s a the place for slavers and debauchery.” 

You argue that perhaps with so many travellers from all over the wider world passing through there, it surely is a place to find out more about what is happening in the world.

“We have no coin!” 

“Perhaps we can get some. You said yerself we have powder to trade.” 

“We’d get us robbed of it and knifes in our ribs in an alley. Nay let us to the Fort and farm our lives within a walled valley with a stable community where everyone knows everyone. It’s a better way.”

But somehow the idea of learning more of this world before settling down keeps tugging strongly at you. 

“Don’t they farm in your world?”

You admit to benefiting from things called capitalism and consumerism which means you don’t have to farm yourself. 

“Ye all must live as the kings of old in your own world. Well ye ain’t there no more an’ ye have to survive here now. Survival it is too.”

Clay begins walking North toward his hearts desire. 

Do you wish to follow Clay North to Port? 

Do you wish to make your own way alone and head South toward Port? If so, keep reading. 

Clay shrugs, wishes you safe journeys and disappears into a thickening mist without looking back at you. You take some deep breathes and make your way in the opposite direction, what Clay called South. 

As you walk alone for the first time in this strange new world, you consider it was foolish not to have asked Clay how he knew which direction is which. 

You assume you have been going in a relatively straight line for some immeasurable amount of time when the ground begins to become waterlogged. There has been vegetation something like a thin meadow. Increasingly as you walk it has changed toward more mossy, marshy types of plants. 

It is not until the wetness is squelching up to your ankles, drenching your hand-stitched leather ankle-boots, do you realise the way ahead might possibly be impenetrable. You decide to backtrack to where it is drier. It is easy to follow your own sunken footprints although takes longer than you had hoped. 

Sitting down you contemplate;

returning North to try and find Clay, 

heading East along the edge of the mire, or

heading West along the edge of the mire, 

in either case hoping to find a more stable road or bridge across it. 

©2023 Ordo Octopia. All Rights Reserved.