The five companions continued traveling downhill along the worn road until they came upon a pair of wooden pillars.
Lae'zel sniffed the air and recoiled.
"The air here is sickly sweet, there is rot here!"
She spat to the side, the glob of spit landing on Wyll's boot.
Veins pulsed on Wyll's forehead as he saw this.
"Watch your fluids please..."
Hearing this, Lae'zel walked up to Wyll and leaned in a little too close to the man, causing him to lean back somewhat.
Sniff... Sniff...
She sniffed him before staring him directly in the eyes.
"One who dips his wick in hell's cauldron should not worry about such small things."
Wyll stammered, nearly tripping over his own foot.
"Y... You... Mind your own business... And your fluids!?"
Lae'zel smirked before turning on her heels and shrugging.
"Maybe try not being in the way Istik!"
Before Wyll could respond in any meaningful way, Shadowheart crouched at the base of one of the wooden pillars, where a wicker basket sat, covered in what appeared to be a linen cloth.
Upon removing the cloth covering the basket, Shadowheart tilted her head in confusion.
"Apples? And so fresh too, here of all places? How... Suspicious!"
Astarion peered over her shoulder at the basket of apples, the brilliant red flesh of the apples causing him to audibly gulp as it reminded him of his usual sanguine meals.
Nevertheless, being an undead being has its advantages; he possessed the ability to perceive a profound sensation of toxic decay concealed beneath the full and vibrant red flesh, giving the impression that it was a snare poised to be activated.
"I'll take that!"
As Shadowheart was about to reach for one of the apples Astarion speedily grasped the basket and began pocketing the apples, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he let out a muffled but undoubtedly sinister chuckle.
After pocketing the last of the apples Astarion turned back towards Shadowheart, a playful half smile adorning his pale face.
"Sorry darling but I will be handling the poison apples!"
Shadowheart tilted her head, eyeing the backpack that was now half-filled with apples.
"Poison? But why here? And who placed them here?"
As Shadowheart thought on this, Gale stepped forward, his brows furrowed as he gripped his staff so tightly that the wood threatened to crack and splinter.
"Be wary Shadowheart, something is not as it seems!"
THUD...
THUD...
Employing a pair of strikes with his mystical staff and a subsequent gesture of his hand, Gale unleashed a surge of magical energy which appeared to engage with an unseen element present within the atmosphere.
The area behind the wooden pillars began to shimmer and wave before parts of the verdant and inviting surroundings split open.
A tree that had previously displayed a vibrant green hue was uncovered, and it was found to be in a state of decay and irregularly formed, resembling an unpleasant hand reaching out from the absolute core of Faerun, poised to grasp you should you venture too near its vicinity.
Shadowheart gasped audibly upon witnessing the once green forest devolve into a wet and clearly treacherous bog while Astarion let out a loud, resounding whistle before delivering a playful nudge into Gale's ribs.
"Some good Wizarding there Gale!"
Gale snorted initially but gave Astarion a knowing smile.
For a brief interval, Wyll and Lae'zel directed their gaze towards one another, and then, in a synchronized fashion, they both expressed their feelings by rolling their eyes.
While this was happening the five had absolutely no idea that they were being closely watched by a green-skinned hag.
Her claws scratched the metal of the boiling cauldron through which the image was being shown, an unknown concoction bubbling within seeming to choke the surrounding air.
"Come darlings step into my domain, my stomach is quite empty!"
Leaving her cauldron, the old hag slowly walked towards a cage containing a trapped woman who was clutching her stomach in both physical and emotional pain.
"Oh? What's wrong my pet? I hope you aren't planning on going back on our deal!"
The hag licked her cracked and dry lips, a row of crooked and rotten teeth showing as she did so.
"After all, it was a rather tasty meal, your unborn child!"
The woman's mascara ran down her cheeks with her tears but within those tearful eyes the hag could make out the embers of conviction.
"A deal is a deal Ethel, my unborn child, for my husband!"
She stared up into Ethel's eerie green eyes.
"I just wish that you didn't make me watch while you did it!"
The memory of the hag Ethel reaching into her and pulling out the unborn result of her and her late husband's union before devouring it whole was enough to make her sick.
"Hehehe, it was rather fun watching you retch and cry, all that emotional turmoil really hit the spot!"
Auntie Ethel smiled with too many teeth before turning back to the cauldron that showed the party of five finally delving deeper into the swamp.
She watched as Shadowheart led the group closer and closer to their doom, a few fine morsels walking straight to their doom and into her belly.
"I cannot wait, it's been a long time since I've tasted Githyanki!"
Lae'zel who was walking in the midst of the group suddenly let out a sneeze.
"ACHOOOOO…"
The sneeze echoed strangely through the swamp.
Five heads turned.
Lae'zel's eyes slowly narrowed.
The Githyanki warrior's hand drifted toward the hilt of her greatsword as she swept her gaze across the group one by one, her expression carrying a clear and ancient promise of bodily harm should even a single joke escape someone's lips.
Astarion opened his mouth.
Lae'zel's eyes narrowed further.
Astarion promptly closed it.
Wyll coughed awkwardly into his fist.
Shadowheart suddenly found the twisted roots beneath her boots fascinating.
Even Gale, who normally seemed eager to dissect every phenomenon the world offered, wisely decided that silence was the superior academic position.
Satisfied, Lae'zel snorted.
"Continue walking."
No one argued.
The five companions resumed their march deeper into the swamp.
Almost immediately the atmosphere changed.
The ground beneath their boots transformed from packed dirt into damp soil that shifted unpleasantly underfoot.
Each step produced wet sucking noises as mud clung greedily to leather and metal alike.
Crooked trees stretched overhead like skeletal fingers locked together to strangle what little sunlight remained.
Thick curtains of moss hung from branches in tangled sheets while insects the size of thumbs drifted lazily through the humid air.
Shadowheart wrinkled her nose.
"The smell somehow keeps getting worse."
"It is decay," Lae'zel answered flatly. "This place is diseased."
Wyll quietly scraped his boot against a stone.
"Some of us have already suffered enough contamination for one day."
Lae'zel looked back.
Wyll immediately pretended to inspect a nearby mushroom.
Astarion meanwhile had become increasingly distracted.
His crimson eyes darted between shadows, old trees, and patches of stagnant water.
Something watched them.
He could not hear footsteps.
Could not smell breath.
Yet the sensation crawled beneath his skin like cold fingers.
However soon the sound of sheep, or something pretending to be sheep echoed in his ears and he crouched behind a bush followed by the rest of the group.
In a clearing stood a small group of red-capped impish creatures.
The strange creatures continued bleating amongst themselves.
"Baa..."
"Baaaaa!"
One scratched beneath its pointed crimson cap with clawed fingers before nearly dropping the rusted cleaver clutched in its hand.
Another attempted to chew grass despite possessing teeth far too sharp for any herbivore.
Gale's eye twitched.
"They are putting forth remarkably little effort into the deception."
Shadowheart lowered her stance.
"That somehow makes it worse."
One of the creatures suddenly froze.
Its head rotated.
Then rotated further.
And further.
Until its neck bent at an angle no sheep, person, or remotely healthy thing should survive.
Its yellow eyes locked onto the party.
"Baaaaaa?"
Silence.
Then every creature turned simultaneously.
Five pairs of glowing eyes.
Six.
Seven.
More shapes rose from behind rotten logs and stagnant pools.
"Baaaaaaaa!"
The cry transformed halfway through into shrill cackling laughter.
Astarion's smile widened.
"There we are. Much better."
The creatures charged.
Lae'zel moved first.
With a savage step forward, her greatsword swept horizontally through the humid swamp air.
SCHHK!
The nearest redcap split apart at the waist, its upper half continuing forward for another step before sliding into muddy water.
"My blade approves!" she barked.
A crackling beam erupted from Wyll's palm.
FWOOOM!
The eldritch blast smashed into another creature's chest, sending it spinning backward into a dead tree hard enough to crack bark.
"The Blade of Frontiers strikes true!"
Three redcaps leapt toward Shadowheart.
She answered with a swing of her mace.
CRACK!
Dark energy rippled across the weapon as it crushed the first creature's jaw sideways.
The second reached for her.
Astarion appeared beside it.
Twin daggers flashed silver.
One buried itself beneath the creature's chin.
The second punctured its eye.
He twisted both.
"Sorry darling," he whispered to the corpse. "You were never convincing sheep."
Gale extended his hand.
The growing flame within his palm finally erupted.
A cone of fire rolled across the swamp path.
The humid air screamed.
Several redcaps shrieked as flames consumed their ragged clothing and blood red caps.
Burning creatures stumbled blindly into stagnant pools.
All the while, a green-skinned hag watched with an expression that seemed to blend pure malevolence with joy.
She waved her hands, and her magic seeped into the bubbling cauldron that she was using to watch the group fight.
The previously dead and near-dead creatures suddenly rose to their feet with jerky movements, as if they were puppets being forcibly moved rather than living beings.
"Let's see how well you fare this time my dearies!"
Her words dropped with poison worse than what boiled in the cauldron.