Private Tales Snips & Snails

[Corin Rook]

Mission: Thin the numbers of the Undead & Skeletons
Location: Bayou Garramarisma
Notes: Swampy

---

Leather dragged along the dirt path, small pebbles kicking back and forth as the tall, bean-sprout of an elf wandered. It was evident that she was lost, but it didn’t sour her mood too much. The sound of ruffling papers echoed in the swamp orchestra, between the croaks of swamp frogs and the buzz of insects.

One of those insects met its end against the back of a leather-bound gauntlet as the girl swatted at the creature. It had been buzzing around her head for a few miles, roughly about the time she had entered the swamp.

Her footsteps stopped as her mind caught on how odd that was. Looking down at the dead bug, she wondered if it had secretly been a fae or a wizard who had cursed himself a bit too harshly.

She stared for a moment longer before her boot slammed down on the corpse and ground it into the dirt. Shrugging, the elf began to wander deeper into the swamplands, now ignoring her map.

“I should have paid for a guide,” she mumbled to herself, but her coin bag was a bit light this time around. The job before this one hadn’t paid well enough, though she had lost half the cargo to a pair of trolls. Who knew trolls could outsmart an elf? It must have been a good day for them. Either way, she still had some coin, enough for a nice warm meal after this little errand she’d picked up.

The road began to narrow the farther she walked, the swamp now overtaking most of it. Her short sword, now drawn, began to hack away at the overgrown vegetation. As she sliced through vine and leaf, she remembered the warning the tavern keeper had given her when she accepted the long-overdue quest:

Be careful of the undead, along with soft ground — you’ll sink faster than a rock in a river.

Corin chuckled as she continued to make her own path through the swamp. Who needed a map now?

A new sound echoed — slow and shuffling. She turned her head toward the direction of the noise to see a corpse, wandering just as lost as she was. Unfortunately for it, she still had her brain. Carefully, she turned, her sword still drawn, and began to stalk the undead. There was a coin bag still attached to it, and her little amber eyes lit up at the possibilities.

If she was lucky, that coin purse still had money, which meant she could buy two bowls of soup tonight, maybe even a whole chicken.

Her mouth already salivated as she pounced and swiped her blade through the throat of the shambling zombie. Almost instantly, its body collapsed on itself, and she quickly grabbed the coin bag. It didn’t feel as heavy as it had looked, but it was still something extra.

Lifting her foot, she realized she had unfortunately stepped into the loose edge of the swamp pond. The ground began to give way as she frantically tried to pull free. The higher the water rose, the more the mud started to crawl up her shins.

“Oh no…” she whimpered, a little panicked — but she was tall. There was still time before she met her maker. Her steps began to quicken as she tried to climb her way out. It did nothing; she only sank faster. A weak branch hung low, and she grasped it, holding on and hoping someone would wander by.

“Help! Help! Help!” she called out — loud, but not loud enough to wake the dead… hopefully.​

---

Beatrix ​

 

[Beatrix]

Beatrix navigated the marshy bogs of the bayou with an ease that came with years of experience, her footfalls assured in every step upon the tried and true routes as she made her way through the thicket. Even the insects didn't seem to harass her as they often did to strangers and visitors.

Her arrival at the scene would be announced first by the rattling of bones upon her wooden stave as she came to a halt besides the swampy pit the redheaded elf was steadily sinking into. She recognized Corin, it wasn't the first time they'd met after all. The blonde witch let out a soft sigh of disappointment as she gazed down towards the half-elf, idly adjusting the brim of her hat as she closed her eyes.

"Whatever made you think coming back here alone was a good idea? Didn't learn your lesson last time...?" she spoke before opening her crystal blue eyes once more to judge the sinking woman. Her gaze drifted to the corpse of the zombie nearby and she peered back towards Corin. "Did you come here for coin? Take a few heads and proclaim yourself a hero?" she asked in an almost accusatory tone.

With measured steps she moved around the sinking mud pit and towards the body of the zombie as she knelt down to examine its condition briefly. The head had been cleanly removed but the body perhaps still served some use. She didn't seem to shy away from the fact she was pulling the shirt off the back of a corpse as she hummed. "Enough of an unmarred canvas at least..." she muttered.

Her gaze then shifted back towards Corin as she watched her in silence for a moment as she knelt down. "... Can you really not get out?" she asked plainly.

---

Corin Rook

 

[Corin Rook]

Mission: Don't die
With: Beatrix ​

---

Of course, it was her. There was the slightest hope that the witch would be the one to stumble upon her. But that hope was quickly dashed with Beatrix’s judgmental tone. The smallest little smirk curled on the Elf’s angular face as she leaned slightly forward with her arms still above her waist, as she continued to sink.

“I learned quite a bit the last time I was here.” She did, and she remembered all of it in perfect detail… minus the places where the ground was softer and willing to gobble her up. Her smirk faded as she watched the witch wander towards the body. Corin was rather proud of the kill. It had been clean, and if the Zombie was alive, they wouldn’t have realized she had struck. The smirk faded into smugness as she remembered the extra coin that the Zombie had been carrying.

“As a matter of fact, yes, I am a sword for hire, a mercenary or what have you.” Corrin reminded the woman, but when she thought about it, she couldn't remember if she had shared that bit of information the last time they had met. Either way, Beatrix would know now.

Looking down, Corin realized that the mud was now coming up to her waist — not as high as the last time she had been rescued, but getting close. She could already feel it seeping into her shoes; it was more than unpleasant.

Her smugness faded as Corin realized she wasn’t being helped yet. Did Beatrix not understand the Elf’s predicament? A little whine came from the half-elf as the witch stepped a little closer. The woman had an unfair advantage of some sort, but it would be Corin’s good fortune if she decided to help her… again.

Still, the frustration of making the same mistake twice, and of it being pointed out, slipped out as sarcasm.

“No, Bea…” Corin sighed, exasperated, holding her hands up. “I’m just pretending to be stuck.” She let her words hang for a moment, and if she could stomp a tantrum, she would. Her stubby little ears drooped in the best way they could as she groaned.

“Yes, I’m really stuck. You should put out caution signs or something.” ​

 

[Beatrix]

Beatrix levied a heavy sigh towards Corin as she rolled her blue eyes. "There are caution signs. It's every sailor at Alliria telling you to not travel to the Bayou, it's the glares you get from the locals at the Crossroad Mire, it's the corpses wandering all over the marsh..." she answered as she leaned forward to reach a hand for Corin's.

The blonde witch had no strength to speak of as she used her staff to press into the dirt behind her to somewhat anchor herself as she'd pull the elf from the swamp, stepping back and standing up as she did so. When Corin was free Beatrix gestured towards the zombie she had slain earlier. "You can thank me by carrying that back to my sanctuary, come along." she practically ordered.

Beatrix didn't wait long as she turned to start heading back in the direction she had come from, once again following the paths known to her as she'd safely be able to guide Corin through the bayou. Interestingly enough whenever they encountered the dead a light gesture of the witch's hand was all it took to dissuade them from stumbling too close.

It was clear that the blonde had some power over the dead if as much wasn't already blatantly obvious with that morbid staff she carried around, or the carved runic skull dangling from string at her hip. "Once we're done I'll be leading you straight back to the Crossroad, you really shouldn't be coming out this far in the first place, coin or not..." she spoke as she walked, turning to glance over her shoulder towards the elf. "This isn't some playground for witless adventurers..." she chastised before turning forward again.

---

Corin Rook

 

[Corin Rook]

Mission: Carry the dead body and show Beatrix the surprise
With: Beatrix

---

Corin hated when Beatrix was right. But just because she was, doesn’t mean the Elf had to acknowledge it. Even though she was being scolded, Beatrix offered her hand to the distraught Hero and helped her out of the swamp. Corin took it, and while she knew that the witch was more intelligent than strong, she did her best to help, not to strain herself too much.

“Thanks.” She nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed for once more getting caught in the mud hole. At least it wasn’t the same one as before…

If Beatrix was the one who found her, it might be. Looking back towards the mud hole, she watched as one of the air bubbles popped, and she shuddered. Corin didn’t want to think about how many poor souls might have lost their lives down there.

Though morbid curiosity played on her mind as she stared. What was at the bottom of the mud pits? Maybe she’d ask the witch after they get back to her place. Corin didn’t waste any time, nor did she question the woman when she commanded the body be brought with them.

She did take the opportunity to search their pockets as they wandered. It was fortunate that the tall Elf was able to lug the body over her shoulder, keeping it from dragging. She assumed that Beatrix didn’t want any more damage done to it beyond what the little hunter already had done.

Of course, as they walked, the scolding continued. Corin took it for the most part, already planning how she was going to get back at the swamp witch. A few long strides and Corin finally caught up to the smaller woman. She adjusted the zombie's body and kept her stride.

“Never said it was a playground,” the Elf pouted slightly, “The pay was excellent to thin undead numbers. I think the plan is for more people to be able to access it?” Corin really didn't know, and she was completely speculating. She knew the witch wasn’t much for conversation, and she was only talking this much to berate the Hero.

Still, her little grin returned. “Sooo,” she started, leaning a little closer to the witch, who hid under her wide-brimmed hat.

“You can be honest, it's just the two— well, three of us. But one of us is missing a head,” Her jaw opened in a happy, almost sarcastic expression.

“Oh, but wait!” She lifted the zombie’s head, which she had grabbed on the way from the mud pit.

“Didn’t know if you wanted it or not.” Corin shrugged, “But yes, be honest — you know you saved me because you’re finding yourself having a little wee bit of a fondness for me, yes?” ​