### 264

The remaining Gorodon utters a high-pitched and piercing whistle as your killing blow steals its life. Its massive limbs shudder and stiffen, then, with a final gasp, it topples over and lands heavily in the thick mud.

Prarg brings the boat back to shore and, as he draws closer, you can see by his facial expression that he is greatly impressed by your incredible fighting skills. Respectfully he helps you aboard the boat then sets about rowing towards the west bank.

'Sire, I salute you,' he says, 'Never have I seen such courage and skill in the face of so formidable an enemy. I've heard tell of the fighting disciplines of the Sommlending Kai Lords, but, until now, I must admit I'd not wholly believed what I'd heard. The first time I navigated these channels I lost three good men in a Gorodon attack. Those beasts are the bane of this accursed place . . .yet, t'is true to say, there are other creatures here that are far deadlier. I count myself lucky indeed to be your guide.'

Soon you reach the west bank where, once safely ashore, you encamp on a strip of frozen loam that overlooks a bleak expanse of marsh. Night has fallen and so, too, has the temperature. From the shelter of your upturned boat you cast your experienced eye across the darkening skies and see banks of cloud, heavy with snow, scudding the distant horizon. They are an unwelcome sight, the precursors to a winter storm.

Prarg volunteers to continue the first watch but, mindful that his need for rest is greater than yours, you insist that he gets some sleep. For four hours you sit and scan the bleak horizon, your mind filled with unanswered questions about the mission and the dangers you have yet to face. While you ponder what awaits you in the near future, you remain watchful and alert, your encounter on the east bank still vivid in your mind. Fortunately, the increasing cold dissuades the Hellswamp's inhabitants from leaving their lairs this night and your watch passes without further incident.

Then the time comes for you to awaken Prarg. With a noticeable lack of enthusiasm he takes his turn while you settle down to catch a few hours of much-needed sleep.

Turn to 327.

Text copyright © 1991 Joe Dever.
Illustrations copyright © 1991 Brian Williams.