Fallout Equestria: Cultivation

by LilithGalac

Job Opening

This hasn’t been the best first day of freedom. I thought it’d be… different.

Here I am, out in the wastes, nursing a gunshot, and working jobs that a businessmare doesn’t want to send out her paid goons to handle.

All in all, not a good place to be.

… But somehow, it’s just so exciting.

In a weird way, it’s relieving to have an actual objective, and a means to get to it.

I just gotta make sure I don’t get my ass shot again.

The elevator ride down is just as quiet as the ride up. Downpour is staring off into space, and I’m trying to figure out a plan of action. The envelope Ten Bit gave me is stuffed into my pocket, and I’m kinda dreading opening it and seeing what exactly I have to do.

We step out into the lobby as the elevator cheerfully ding!s our arrival at the ground floor. Downpour and I are silent as we pass the pegasus receptionist, who gives us a calm, yet terse farewell.

And just like that… We’re out of the nice, well kept tower, and back out into the quiet bustle of Nighttown. We wander away from the tower, until we’re out of earshot of the guards. It’s about five in the afternoon now… I look down at Downpour, who sighs, and sits down, absentmindedly tapping the sidewalk with a hoof.
“Damn it.” She mutters. I sit down next to her, wincing at the faint throb in my side from the movement.
“Uh… so, what… do you actually need from her?” I ask, carefully.

Downpour remains silent for a few moments, before looking up at the dome of rubble above us.
“Me mam is a waster, left me here in Nighttown when I was little more than a few days old. Ten Bit agreed to look after me since they knew each other.” Downpour huffs irritably.
“I’ve been doin’ jobs fer Bit ever since I was ten to get intel on where she is. Even if she doesn’t want me, I still want to sock her right in the jaw for leavin’ me.” The filly narrows her eyes, then sighs and stands, shaking her head.

“But say what you want about her, Bit does at least keep ‘er promises. So if she finds any information, I’m sure she’ll send someone’a knockin’. Let’s get outta here.” She mutters, irritably trotting away. I quickly scrabble to my hooves, following her as quick as I can.

The ghoul at the door doesn’t give us any trouble as we leave- As lecherous as he seems, he does at least notice Downpour’s sour mood, and doesn’t offer us any resistance on our way past.

And then we’re back in the quiet of the wastes. Only the sound of distant scavengers, or the occasional shambling ghoul breaks the silence. The shadows at our hooves are slowly beginning to deepen, as the sun begins its steady descent down to the horizon.

Downpour turns.
“Okay, now we’re outta there, ye can tell me what happened in there.” She says, keeping her eyes forward, expecting me to follow-- which I quickly do, keeping a steady pace next to the filly.

I quickly recount what happened- Bit offering me jobs, me demanding Swing’s bounty removed, her getting angry when I asked about Downpour. The filly is silent as I speak, letting out a frustrated sigh as we finish.
“All’a the things in the world you coulda ask for, and you go and get her to forgive the bounty on that damned birdbrain… Whatever. I ain’t gonna knock ye for makin’ stupid decisions, so long as they cannae get me killed.” She mutters, as we creep through the quiet streets of ghoul shops.

“... Why don’t you live in Nighttown itself?” I ask, lowly.
“Seems like a bit of a dangerous commute.”

Downpour scoffs.
“I’m sure Ten Bit’d love to have me under her watchful eye at all times. I grew up in Nighttown and it was… irritatin’. Never felt like I had any time to myself.” She scowls, shaking her head as we find ourselves back in the quiet suburbs.
“So when I was twelve, I started sneakin’ out into the wastes, and eventually found myself a quiet place ta live out here. Safe, secure, free of ghouls.”

We’re back on her street, and indeed, it is remarkably quiet- There isn’t even the occasional rustle of a shambling ghoul, or the hiss of something more sinister.
“So you just up and left?” I ask. Downpour nods in response as we reach her front door, the filly swinging the door open with her horn.
“Aye. Set up a workshop for myself out here, left a note, told Bit she’d either let me stay out here and come for supplies every week, or find me hangi- Swing!” The filly barks, attention called back to reality as something shatters in another part of the house.

Downpour scowls, darting out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I squirm a little, looking around the quiet living room as I hear Downpour shouting elsewhere. Not wanting to get involved, I slump onto the old, rotted couch and pull the envelope out of my pocket, opening it and pulling out the piece of paper inside.

Seven-Ten Split, what follows are two pressing matters that require your attention. I require them done within one week, or our deal is off. You may do them in any order, as long as they both get done.

Firstly, I require a payment from Death Roll, leader of an encampment out in the swamps. Downpour knows where it is, get directions from her. Do not have her accompany you. If you desperately require a guide, there are several people in Nighttown who can offer their services.

Secondly, I need a rare component from the GeneriTech™ offices in the city . The defenses there are robotic in nature, so maybe that water pistol of yours will come in handy. You’ll find what I need on the second basement floor, within a vault. My scouts haven’t managed to breach any deeper. If you aren’t sure what to grab, take it all.

Do both of these things, and I’ll provide whatever you need for your stable. If it isn’t done within a week, don’t bother coming back.

~ Ten Bit

… I was expecting more. Is this really all she needs done? I sigh in relief, trying to ignore the fact that my immediate future involves an interaction with someone named ‘Death Roll’.

Another piece of paper falls out of the envelope, and I realise with a gasp that it’s the list of things I need for the stable! A small token of charity, but something to appreciate nonetheless.

The list only has a few things on it, but I can tell just from the names alone that they’re not your average scrap-- Hell, I can only vaguely remember what an ‘arcanotech nanogenerator’ is. Thankfully I do at least know what all this junk looks like, dad taught me that much.

I leave the letter on the coffee table, tapping my forehead.
“Urgh… Dammit. Okay… Swing? Downpour?” I call, glancing over the back of the couch. The shouting stops, and Swing darts out, covered head to toe in dust-- followed by an irritated Downpour.
“Hey, guys. Sit down, I gotta get some advice.”

It doesn’t take too long to catch Swing up, and explaining the letter is as easy as just letting them read it. As Downpour finishes reading, she tosses it aside, growling irritably.
“What does that damn mare think she’s playin’ at? I know them swamps better than half the trees themselves!” She yells. Steam is practically pouring out of her ears.

“H-hey, maybe she’s just worried about you getting hurt.” I offer. Downpour glares at me, then sighs, taking her glasses off, folding them, and placing them on the coffee table. She reaches up, rubbing her exhausted eyes.
“If she was worried about me gettin’ hurt, there’d be guards here round the clock. No, she’s up to somethin’.” The filly growls. I glance over to Swing, who’s been suspiciously silent this entire time.
“... you alright?” I ask her.

I get my answer as she suddenly dives forward, catching me in a scratchy, uncomfortably tight hug.
“Oh, you’re a noble stablehorse, you are! Savin’ good old griffonguide Swing!” She laughs uproariously, ignoring my flailing as I try to get some air.

She holds me for another few seconds before letting me free, letting out several triumphant cheers and whoops as Downpour seethes. I sigh, rubbing my eyes.
“Okay, let’s just… get moving on this. Where should I start? I mean, I gotta be honest, I’m not exactly chomping at the bit to meet someone named Death Roll.” I say, with a meek laugh. Downpour shakes her head.
“He’s an ass, but if ye stay on his good side ye might be alright.” She mutters, tapping her head again.

“... Generitech’s offices will need some investigatin’ afore we head in, so I say ye head into town and go get yerself a guide. I’ll make sure Swing meets ye on the edge o’ the swamps… Best she stays outta town fer now.” Downpour sighs irritably.

“Inasmuch as I want to come with ye into the swamps, I think Bit will have yer head when she finds out. So… best to be safe than sorry.” The filly looks around, then glares at my water pistol.
“Are ye really determined to carry that damn thing around?” She asks, moving to glare directly at me instead. I shrug.
“... Yeah, I don’t really like guns.”
“Guess ye don’t like livin’ long, either. Come on, then.” She gestures for me to follow, leading me through a hallway behind the couch. I quickly get up, following after her, through an empty doorway.

The room is completely lit by a floodlight hooked up in the corner opposite the door- The entire wall to my left is taken up by all kinds of salvaged tools, from screwdrivers to hammers to monkey-wrenches and spanners and… Even some really weird, unconventional stuff- Several things seem to have constantly rotating parts, or crystals set into them. Dad would probably love this… His tools are all about as old.

Not a single handle matches another, it seems everything’s been salvaged all from different places and times. At around chest height is a workbench that stretches from wall to wall, pressed against the… well, wall. Downpour’s horn glows, and she yanks my water-pistol out from where it’s tucked into my jacket, making me yelp in surprise. She lays it down, tapping her chin as she levitates a screwdriver down.
“... Hmm, low pressure. Child’s toy.” She hesitates.
“Bah, easy fix. Whatever.” She waves a hoof in my direction.
“This’ll take me a few minutes, stablehorse, go make sure Swing isn’t starting any fires.”

I nod, quickly leaving the room as I hear a buzzsaw engine revving up. Glancing into other dilapidated rooms, I see mostly just broken furniture and debris, hastily swept aside to clear floorspace. The windows are all boarded up, and one room appears to have been invaded by small ants, crawling around in sweeping curves, exploring the room.

I find Swing in the dusty kitchen, an apron tied messily around her midriff. She’s mixing something grey in a bowl, humming to herself.
“... Swing?” I ask. The griffon jumps, dropping the bowl and turning.
“Ah, stablehorse! Greetings and salutations, how can griffonguide Swing help you?” She asks, eagerly. I put a weary smile on my face as I gesture to the door.
“We’re heading to the swamps first. Downpour said that you should wait by the edge for me to go get a guide, since, y’know, someone could still come and try to take your bounty even if Bit didn’t send them.”

Swing considers that, tapping her chin.
“Hmmm… Fair point, noble stablehorse. Very well! Griffonguide Swing shall find a quietsafe place and wait! Simply whistlecall three times and I shall be with you rightquick!” She rasps, untying her apron and zipping past me, excitement in her eyes. As I turn to watch her go, I see Downpour, offering my soaker. The barrel looks different, more narrow, and there’s a noticeable weight to it.
“Don’t go playin’ with any fillies with this, and point it away from yer face. Should also dispense… kinda clean water, so don’t worry too much about what ye fill it with if ye plan to use it fer hydratin’, so long as ye don’t fill it with swamp muck.” She mutters.

“I gotta go do some researchin’ into Generitech, I’ll see if I can source some blueprints or somethin’.” She waves me away, and I nod, quickly trotting toward the door.
“Oh, uh… Downpour…? Thank you. Really.” I call. Before she can respond, I’m outside, door shutting behind me. She doesn’t seem the type to like sappy gratitude.

I turn, making my way down the street. Swing is already well and truly out of sight- for a ghoul, she’s remarkably quick on her paws.

Down the street, through the shop district, down the shaded streets… The sun is close to the horizon now. I briefly wonder if I should get moving on this tomorrow, but… Well, I’m wide awake, I’m on a time limit, and Downpour probably wouldn’t have sent me if she didn’t think I could survive the swamps at night. There must be a reason for that.

I approach the heavy metal walls of Nighttown, and carefully knock. Even with the gentle touch of my hoof, the wall seems to echo loud clangs down the street behind me. The slot soon opens up, and I see the same hollow eyes as before.
“Ah, don’t got yer guide with you this time, I see.” Juice’s voice rasps.
“Reason for visiting our fine town?” He asks, leering at me. I sigh, rubbing the back of my head.
“I-I just need to get a guide for the swamps. Ten Bit is sending me on a job.” I add. He seems to get the message, grumbling and stepping back, the door swinging open before me.

I step in once more. The light level in town hasn’t changed much- The lights all over the place seem to keep it at a constant level of illumination. There’s just as much bustle as before, though, with stalls of ponies still hawking their wares. I turn to Juice, tilting my head forward.
“... Uhm, where would I find a guide?” I ask. He rolls his eyes, gesturing past Ten Bit’s tower, to the northwest building that makes up one of the four corners of town.

“Over there, there’s a bar on the second floor. Good luck, girlie.” He laughs, door swinging shut behind me as I head off on a quick trot toward the tower. I glance over at Bit’s tower, and the same guards are still milling about-- The large armoured one is staring at me. I stop, staring back, and offer a small, nervous wave. Maybe they want to say hello…?

They stare at me for a moment, then turn away.
Guess not.

With a sigh, I get back to trotting, heading into the foyer of the northwest tower. The ground floor’s walls have all been cleared out, leaving only the support pillars intact. Everything on the ground floor is also gone, replaced with all kinds of haphazardly built stalls and shopfronts for ponies to yell from behind. Guns, armour, clothing, even luxuries like unpopped bags of chips or pristine bars of chocolate.

Chocolate… Not exactly uncommon in my stable, but… Well, I’ve only ever seen a pristinely wrapped bar in old archive photos. With supplies slowly running out, luxuries like wrapping for candy isn’t exactly something we see a lot of.

Thinking back on it… It really does make a lot of sense. When one of the diner tables broke, they had to salvage two alleys worth of bowling pins to scrounge the wood for repairs. More and more books are digitised every day so that if we ever run out of fuel, we can use the paper in them as an emergency power source.

I never really thought about it until now, but our Stable really is dying without scouts. What is the Overstallion playing at, not sending anyone out… And why me? Why now?

… When I make it back, I need to find out more. He and dad looked like they absolutely hated each other, and I have no idea why.

I’m pulled from my reverie by a hawker shouting at me, slapping a hunk of faintly squirming meat.
“Good eatin’, right here! Come get it, only ten bits a bite!” He calls. Oh yeah. Job. Ten Bit. I shake my head, and get moving, heading up the stairs in the centre of the foyer. The wallpaper is peeling, rot and scorch-marks taking hold beneath it. It’s a far cry from the pristinely kept aesthetic of Bit’s tower.

Up at the landing, I can see more stairs up in front of me, and doors either side. There’s crudely painted words at my feet-
“ARMORE” with an arrow pointing right, and “BAR” with an arrow pointing left, at an old wooden door with a sign next to it that reads “NIGHTY NIGHT BAR”. I can hear the quiet bustle of activity through the wood.

Courtesy overtakes me, as I give the door a quick knock. The activity I heard behind it a moment ago stops, and there’s a few moments of silence before I hear a quiet;
“... come in?”

I push the door open, and step inside. The place is pretty dimly lit, with only a neon sign above the bar, and the lights from the town outside illuminating it. The bar itself is pretty decently built, with hundreds of mismatched bottles sitting on shelves bolted to the wall behind the salvaged counter, also bolted down. Ten tables are scattered around the decently large room, with chairs of all kinds (from lawn chairs to office chairs) haphazardly around them in varying quantities. There’s about twenty patrons here of various kinds, with a bartender giving me an odd look behind the bar.

He’s a regular-looking unicorn, his horn glowing and levitating a rag to clean the absolutely filthy glass he’s got in front of him on the counter. As the sight of me fully settles in, the patrons go back to their quiet chats, or back to drinking alone. I make my way up to the bar, ignoring the bemused look the bartender is giving me.
“S-sorry, thought it’d be polite to knock.” I say, meekly. The bartender shakes his head.
“Been a while since we’ve seen a Stable dweller. Forgot how weird you ponies act.”

He stares at me for a long while. He looks old, but not crazy old. Definitely younger than dad. His eyes are so… tired. He’s seen a lot.
“So, what are you lookin’ for, then?” He asks, pulling me from my thoughts. I look around.
“Um, I’m headed into the swamps, and… I-I need a guide. For a job, for Ten Bit.” I reply, looking over my shoulder nervously. The stallion snorts.
“If you want a guide for the swamps, you’ll be wanting Icy.” He nods. I glance around, checking the corners for some mysterious figure, only to turn to my left and see a mare staring right at me.

She’s sitting a little further down the bar. Her coat is a soft, pallid blue, with darker blue stripes on her hindlegs, and her eyes are a soft green. Her dark blue hair is messy and curly, and left to sit messily down her back. She’s wearing a tattered old black coat, and has a heavy looking revolver tucked into the pocket of her coat. She grins at me, standing up.
“Job for Bit, heading into the swamps… Lemme guess, it’s meeting with Death Roll? Guess she got sick and tired waiting for a freelancer to pick up the job, and decided to give Roll a chew toy to play with in the meantime.”

The mare approaches me, ears flicking as she sizes me up, walking around me in a small semicircle, until she’s on my other side, smirking. Her long tapered tail flicks me in the side, and I yelp, sides throbbing.
Damn, I’d almost forgotten that…

“Nursing a wound, hm? Guess your first day out didn’t end well?” She snickers. I huff, looking away.
“Lemme guess, you’re some detective type, sizing up every little detail and trying to profile me?” I ask, cheeks red. Even if she is, she doesn’t have to be so obvious about it.

“Nah.” She replies, tapping the bar. The bartender slides a hefty bottle of liquor over, and the mare takes it, picking it up and downing half of it.
“I’ll hang onto the bottle, put it on my tab. C’mon, walk with me.” The mare turns, heading for the door. I glance at the bartender, nodding my thanks, before darting after the mare, following her out into the landing.

“How did you know I’m only on my first day in the wastes, then?” I ask, following her down the stairs, back to the wide marketfloor of the building. The mare snorts.
“I heard there was easy pickings in Neighbourough over the wire. But Searchlight and his goons got em dead… or so I thought. Only stabledwellers and raiders looking for stabledwellers ever go to Neighbourough, so it was easy enough to piece together.”

We walk through the stalls, and I notice that it’s not as busy as it was earlier. I glance down at my clock- Eight PM. Things are dying down for the night, but there are still a few shopkeepers, probably running all-night stores.

“... So, um, Icy, right? Got a last name?” I ask. The mare smirks.
“I might. You aren’t quite there yet, sweetheart.” She murmurs, leading me toward the gates. Juice is there, sitting in an old armchair and snoring. As Icy approaches, he opens an eye, glancing up and jumping in surprise.
“Ah, what a wonderful surprise!” He glances at me, raising an eyebrow.
“Taking this one out behind the shed, eh?” He laughs dryly. … is that a dirty joke?

Icy rolls her eyes, gesturing for him to pick up the pace.
“You could say that, she wants to meet Death Roll.” The mare snickers. The ghoul stands, quickly pushing the door open.
“Ahh, wonderful, wonderful!” He cackles, letting us through.

“... You know, no-one’s actually told me much about this Death Roll guy just yet.” I mention, as we head down the street. This time, however, we take a turn instead of heading right into the ghoul-store district, this time heading down a dusty, wide-open side-street.
“You’ll figure it out quick. He’s big, he’s mean, he’s got a lotta teeth.” Icy explains.

“That doesn’t help… Say, erm, did we agree on payment?” I rask, looking around as we walk. Icy lets out a snort of laughter, shaking her head.
“I’ll just send my bill to Bit. I know she’ll be good for it.”

The breeze is turning chilly as the sun dips below the horizon, the sky above us a soft, fading orange. I pull my jacket a little closer shut, glancing around us. This seems to have been a street mostly for hoof-traffic, judging by the paved road stretching all the way across it. Ancient fashion outlets stretch from one end to the other, all long-abandoned and picked clean of scrap.

“Seems people have been through here a lot.” I comment. Icy snickers.
“Yeah, the immediate area around Nighttown is kinda barren nowadays.” She replies, stopping at the end of the street. She glances at me, about to speak, when the sounds of shouting reach our ears. It’s distant, but it sounds like a commotion from a street away.

“... Not our business, stabledweller.” Icy warns-- But as I hear a familiarly raspy voice, my hooves pick up beneath me and I’m off running before I can stop myself. It’s Swing! She needs help!

I hear a sigh behind me from Icy, followed by the sound of her hoofsteps following casually behind me as I bolt down the street. My horn glows, pulling out my super soaker, as I turn the corner and see-- Those three stallions! The big one is looming over Swing, stepping on her chest, the other two milling behind him, weapons drawn.

“Hey!” I shout, voice echoing down the street. The three of them turn to look my way, and the big one sneers.
“Man, you hang around like a bad smell, don’t you?” He growls. I grit my teeth, glancing at my super soaker, then at Swing.
I need to do something to help her!

Without even speaking, I charge forward-- The two smaller stallions turn their weapons my way, but I can’t stop myself. I clench my teeth, ready to fire-- when a blur flies past me. I hear the big one yell in pain as Icy collides with him, bringing her bottle down on his head. He staggers back, swearing loudly.

“I told you to stay outta my turf, Searchlight.” The mare hisses, lowly.
“You don’t own no turf, Icy!” The stallion barks back, getting his footing and grounding himself, his goons turning their guns on Icy.
“And we’re alone here. No-one’d know if we just offed you and called it a day.” The stallion sneers.
“Don’t. You know I can take all three of you.” She retorts, in a cold, yet worryingly calm voice.

“... Can we just stop this?!” I shout, stomping a hoof.
“Shut up, stabledweller. This doesn’t involve you.” Icy says, simply. My eye twitches, and I feel my heartbeat pick up. I glare at Searchlight’s smug face, the smug bounty hunter sneering at me, then turning his attention back to Icy.
“Aww, seems you’ve got yourself a cheerleader!” He snorts.

And that’s it. Something in me snaps, and as fruitless as I know it’ll be-- I squeeze the trigger on my soaker, aiming it right at Searchlight’s stupid face. However something is different-- As I pull the trigger, I remember far too late that Downpour had modified this thing-- when suddenly a thin jet of water bursts forth, hitting Searchlight’s visor directly.

There’s the sound of cracking, then shattering glass, and the stallion screams in pain, stumbling back and falling to the ground, clutching his face. Blood pools on the pavement under him, glass tinkling gently as it hits the ground.

His two cronies immediately dash to his side, helping him stand.
“Boss! You alright?” The smaller one barks, glaring daggers my way. Searchlight is babbling and swearing, his hooves falling by his side as he’s hefted up-- I can see the right side of his visor has been utterly shattered, his right eye nothing but a bloody mess behind it. My stomach turns, nausea overtaking me.

I… I just mangled him.

Icy, meanwhile, is laughing uproariously. She steps forward, ignoring Searchlight’s shouts and swears as she reaches up, slapping the right side of his head- He screams again.
“You might wanna get him to the doc in town, he’s probably gonna have to lose that eye.” She says, with a smug grin.

Oh gods, what?! I… I want to throw up. My throat burns as my stomach threatens to upturn itself, but I’m able to control the urge and force myself to just look away. Searchlight is still screaming incoherently as he’s dragged away, the smallest stallion swearing back at us as they leave.

I glance up, and see the one who shot me glancing back. We lock eyes for a moment, then he looks away, and the trio disappear around a corner.

What is with him? I wonder, trying to do anything but think about what I just did.

… although Icy doesn’t seem to feel the same, as she suddenly slaps my back, earning a sharp throb of pain from my side, and a sharp yell, my entire body jolting in surprise. The mare is still laughing, reaching up to wipe a tear from her eye.
“That was tops, stabledweller!” She says, in between wheezing laughs. I shake her off, quickly trotting over to Swing, who’s nursing a pretty nasty bruise on her side-- and her right hind leg probably shouldn’t be bending that way…
“S-Swing, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” I ask, crouching down to look over her.

The griffon laughs weakly, leaning her head on one of her talons.
“Ahh, noble stablehorse, saviorfriend of the ghoulguide Swing! You truly are a miraculous heromare, you are!” She swoons dramatically, pulling me down into a tight hug. I squirm a little, but wait until she lets me go to pull away.
“... With your leg like that I don’t see you making it far into the swamps.” I murmur, tapping my chin.

Icy calmly approaches, smirking down at Swing and putting a hoof on my back.
“You’ve made company with a bounty target, amazing job, Deadeye.” She snickers. I shake her off, glaring up at the mare.
“If you’re not gonna help, just leave. I don’t want a guide with me at all if you’re gonna just act like this.” I growl, glaring up at her. I don’t know what’s come over me, but it does feel good to stand up for myself.

Icy’s gaze is unreadable as she stares down at me. It’s empty, hollow… cold, and calculating. She stares me right in the eyes, then shrugs.
“Y’know what, fine. I’ll play nice, but only because you asked me to.” She sneers, shaking her head and leaning down.
“We gotta get moving before midnight hits, griffon. Know any radspots to chill in for a while?” She asks, glaring down at Swing. The griffon nods, giving a cheery salute.
“Indeed, scarymare! Griffonguide Swing shall make her way there and-”
“Head back to Downpour’s.” I interject, patting her head.
“Don’t try following us in, you probably won’t be able to find us. We’ll team up properly once we head to the other place, alright?”

The griffon huffs, rolling her eyes.
“Fine, fine, you’ve twisted my armtalon! I shall continue to be a noble maidbird to our gracious fillyhost!” She forces herself to stand, limping lightly on her bent leg.

I give her a nod, and a wave, before turning to look up at Icy.
“... Shall we, then?” I ask. She nods, and we move out, soon leaving the buildings behind us, on a dusty road out of town. The sun is well and truly gone as we approach the swamps, and I can see weird, vibrant glowing lights deeper within, their source obscured by the trees.

“... Come on, then.” Idy mutters, stepping through the underbrush. I follow after, ready to face whatever threats the swamps may bring.