Wilona held the neck of her staff tightly as she flew across the skies. She was right, enchanted stones carved with the intent to form a planetary alignment wrapped around treant wood is an effective way to enhance the effects of a magical item. She thought it was too bad she only had access to lesser runes, otherwise she'd be making some powerful stuff by now.
But since she couldn't, she knew that staying around the swamp would just stagnate her. Fuzz and Mossheart were content to live there and just do whatever it is they wanted to do but Wilona didn't feel like sitting around, if she did, she had a feeling that a quest she could not solve will surprise her in the future.
She flew for a while, tracing the path she made in the past with very little accuracy or knowledge whether or not she even managed to do it correctly. None of it mattered in the end, because she was out of the rainforest and on a bog before long.
Under the darkness of early morning, an ominous feeling wafted out of the bogland below her. Despite the nutrient-rich soil underneath them, the reeds, ferns, and sparse trees looked decayed, like some kind of disease had taken root inside their bodies. Her nose caught a whiff of ozone, it went down her throat and touched her tongue, giving her taste buds an acidic aftertaste that quickly soured her mood.
Wilona instinctively looked at her ring, shouldn't this thing stop her from being poisoned?
She complained with her eyes. Somehow, she feels like talking would make something emerge from the peat below and attack her. She idly gave the moss carpeting the landscape a cautious look, nothing seemed out of the ordinary and not a single part got split by a hand erupting out of the ground.
To keep her mind straight and ensure that her focus isn't on some unknown fantasy creature living in this eerie place, she practiced her magic. The resistance of the wind around her was perfect for practicing the barrier spell she's been trying to learn, one that's centered around wind. Her tests felt similar to the air resistance she's experiencing, but also not quite.
"It's moving maybe?" Wilona muttered, it did make sense. The barrier she's creating was stationary and more like a wall made of wind but the air around her is trying to slow her down because...
Because what? It's at the tip of her tongue.
Wilona touched her lips, she couldn't find the words.
So she flew. Her mind was successfully distracted and is no longer thinking about possibly encountering something she isn't meant to in this otherwise innocent landmark. She was just being paranoid. She's sure of it.
Wilona flew by something disturbing the earth, unfortunately, she was too fast to notice it. The creature looked at her departing figure and sunk back into the peat, the acidic mixture burned at its skin but this did not compare to the damage it received from exposure to a tiny amount of sunlight.
A village came into view. Wilona had a bad feeling as she got closer to it, something ate at her gut—she'd say that it feels like the opposite of a bunch of butterflies in her stomach if she wanted to make a joke.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
The reason for this uneasiness became clear when she saw the state that the village is in. The Ogre camp she fought against in the past looked so much better than this, at least then she knew that the Ogres deliberately made their camp that way but this? It looked like a dying creature on the last dregs of its life, waiting to be killed so it can finally be at ease.
Now that she's close enough to see its scale, Wilona realized that this place is more of a town than a village. It only made her feel sadder for the state it's in. Now it reminds her of some video she's watched, a documentary about fentanyl addicts and the state that they're living in.
Acrid smoke with a scent that's similar to the bog's but somehow worse came from a gathered group of vats to the side of the town. Drugs? Wilona wasn't sure.
She wanted to turn back or maybe find another place but she resolved to carry on and see what this one is like. There's a large group of people working on the vats so it didn't make sense for them to work on drugs. Not in a fantasy setting anyway, modern Earth and its automated industries wouldn't find this type of situation alien.
Leather. They were working on leather, Wilona realized after giving it a closer look. Does she finally get access to leather? She didn't know why her quests never rewarded her with the material but she's glad there's a village nearby that made the stuff.
Her thoughts about danger melted away once she got confirmation that the villagers weren't making drugs and that they just have a thriving leather working industry.
Wilona had high expectations for what she can trade with her lesser magic staffs in the village. Several new pairs of boots maybe? She's getting tired of simply wearing the same ones over and over again, gloves can work too...
Her expectations stumbled slightly when she saw the state the houses were in but so what if the roofs here had different colorations? Or that broken windows are covered with planks of wood and bits of clothing rather than repaired? That doesn't say anything about the village as a whole really!
Wilona's optimism made her smile even as she smelled the scent of cooked leather after landing. The front of the village had no guards and the entrance is open, allowing for all to enter unimpeded. That's not a good sign.
While stalking through the pothole-filled streets of the town, she was ready to use air lift on herself and fly at a moment's notice.
A man on the street made her stop, she eyed him cautiously. Is this guy some kind of criminal? Maybe he has a knife on him? Is he hiding it under his baggy clothes? He did have a thick cloak draped over his person so there's a good chance that it isn't just to keep away the cold but to hide some kind of hidden weapon.
Wilona pointed her staff at him as she neared his seated form, she cleared her throat, drawing the attention of two tired eyes. "What do you want?"
"I want you to tell me if there's a marketplace here," Wilona says, "and maybe where the local lord's house is?" That's what those guys are called right? Lords? Pfft, and people say she's stuck up.
"What's in it for me?" a hoarse voice drawls.
"Nothing? Duh?" Wilona scoffed, she's just asking him a question and somehow he thinks he should be paid for it. Talk about a scam, "you know I can just find those things myself right? I can fly up there and maybe even disturb the village? If that happens and I'm getting lynched, I'm gonna be blaming you as well."
"Market's to the center, the Lord's house is to the left, you won't miss it. It's larger than the rest of the houses, full of overgrown vines and its stone walls are chipped away by the rain." The man looked away, his attitude loudly displaying that he's done with the conversation.
"Right, thanks." Wilona grinned, see? Isn't that fair? She was just asking for directions, after all!
Wilona passed him by without letting her guard down even once, who knows what this man is capable of? Even if he's some bum, the fact that he's in a fantasy world can mean that he's hiding some kind of magic on him.
Realistically speaking, the enchanted cloak he wore isn't the only thing that's on him. Everyone can enchant without limit and somehow, his only success is a cloak?
Wilona walked until she reached the marketplace. Flea market—she corrected. This place reeked, with streets that while repaired, the work was extremely shoddy and is at best only putting flat wooden boards on top of potholes.
The stalls were ruined, with bodies beyond repair and signs so ridden with moss and grime that Wilona couldn't read them. The things for sale aren't any better; rotten fruits, meat full of flies, and herbs that while clean, still had signs of being eaten by insects. It made Wilona want to look away but what can she even distract herself with? It was all around her.
At the center of the marketplace is a platform with armed guards, they wore leather—she really needs to find the people selling the stuff. They're not here.—and had tight expressions as they scanned the market with sharp eyes.
No matter where Wilona went, she still couldn't find anyone selling leather so she decided to go to the Lord's house.