Squib Ep.7 - Murky Paths

(Start at the beginning here)

Squibs fondness for the town of Silkwood had all but dried up after his stint in the town jail but that didn't mean he liked his current jaunt through the swamp any better.

They were four days into the thick of the mire, far past the human camp where the workers would go to harvest the silk from the silkworms from which the swamp got its name.

The camp was empty now, captured by gray goblins who’d been slaughtered by a counter offensive shortly after, but were still waiting on replacement workers to get their industry moving again.

At least that’s what Squib had learned after listening to the adventuring party he was now forced to lead through the swamp. It hadn't been all bad, or not as bad as Squib had anticipated at least. With the exception of the big man who was unafraid to express his malcontent for the goblin, this party of humans had been quite kind to Squib;

They’d brought an abundance of supplies, the food of which they were more than willing to share; They were more concerned with their own personal safety and whatever knowledge they might learn from their surroundings than having a Goblin in the party; And so long as the Ill-willed, Big and Rowdy One got to hold Squibs chest of powder, everyone seemed more than willing to simply get on with the task at hand.

The task of learning his Charges names was a grievance for Squib, especially given the fact they were holding him at ransom. It was for that reason that he’d invented his own names, and played off their assumptions of lowly intelligence for why he couldn't call them anything but.

There was Big and Rowdy, the big warrior who he clashed with on a daily basis despite having done him no wrong- yet. Then there was Stuffy, the gentleman with the refined sensibilities, who Squib had learned owned Silkwoods brothel. His mission was to retrieve his girls, to which Squib commended him for as noble in purpose.

Next there was The Cat, a smaller creature with some manner of feline lineage, seen most notably in the existence of its tail, or so he’d gathered. Having no previous experience with the race, he’d mistaken her for a shrouded humanoid at first, and some sort of she-demon later on. Squib had been cautious in keeping his distance.

That left the human female and owner of what remained of Silkwoods Tavern. No name had come to mind for her, and as the need had never arose, he’d opted to ignore her completely. From what he could tell, her skillset was useless anyway, and it was a wonder as to why she’d dared to come along.

Squib knelt at the edge of a path he’d been following to inspect the earth. The trail he’d been following had disappeared some time ago, and he was at a loss for where to go next.

He sensed Stuffy standing behind him, exuding a presence in such a way that it couldn't help but get on Squibs nerves. It was a persistent annoyance and after four days it was nothing short of distracting.

“Nipping close on the heels of my girls I hope, what have you found?”

“Nothing.” Came Squibs short reply. He didn't turn around, nor did he want to give away more than was needed about their predicament. Unless he wanted to tempt anyone looking for a reason to dispense with his service. A small obfuscation was in order, something to bring Squibs charge into the fold without landing any of the blame on him. “The trail’s been washed away.” He lied.

Big and Rowdy stomped up having caught the exchange. “Nothing? Oh great, you hear that? Our guides found nothing!”

Squib got up at that, and rounded on his big foe. Planting his foot on the soft earth he pointed a cautionary finger up at the big man, glowering out at him from beneath his leather cowl. “I’d find even less between your stupid ears you big dummy!”

Rowdy growled and thrust himself forward, but Stuffy was there to interpose. “Get out of the way, I need to teach him a swift lesson to-the-face!” The two humans tousled as Squib danced about beneath them, egging Rowdy on with shrill growling noises.

Stuffy took control of the situation. “Gentleman, please!” His authoritative tone backed Rowdy off, and an uncomfortable peace settled. “He is our guide. If you could contain yourself, and let him do his job, we might get through this swamp without delay. There are profits currently out there just wasting away!” Stuffy pointed out into the swamp at nothing in particular. It gave everybody pause.

“I’m sick of the wet.” The Cat chimed in drearily. It was her one complaint, and it came endlessly. “I want to keep moving. Can we keep moving, please?”

Stuffy cleared his throat and straightened out his disheveled attire. “Indeed. Squib my good fellow, what do you suggest we do now?”

Squib thought.

The swamp was home to a host of opportunities most knew nothing about, or would easily overlook. To the casual observer the place was an endless waste of stagnant water, unforgiving muck, tangling vines, deadly crocodiles, countless things that crawled, and looming swamp trees. For someone who’d lived there their whole life, grown up around it’s various inhabitants, and explored both it’s width and breadth, it was a world of vast possibility. Unless, of course, you’d burned some bridges.

“Well,” Squib put a finger in the air, then dropped it, reconsidering. No, that wouldn't work, he was dead. “Oh, we could,” the idea vanished as quickly as it formed when Squib remembered the incident with the quicksand. A shame really. “Oh, yes, there’s always, hmm…” Squib stopped to think it through, exchanging a look with his charges that was every bit as cautionary as it might be prospective.

“Yes? Go on, spit it out man, we’re waiting.”

“There’s the moving island.” Squib said, his hand dancing across an imaginary land.

“Oh great, here we go. And I’m the one with nothing between my ears.”

“Quiet, fool!” Squib spat.

Rowdy growled.

Squib continued with a conspiratorial air. “The Swamp Witch lives on the moving island. She sees all in the swamp, knows all in the swamp. But..” Squib trailed off. He turned his back, clasping his hands together and roiling them within one another.

“Yes, yes? don’t stop now!” Stuffy was growing impatient, becoming pushy, which annoyed Squib, making it hard to think.

“I’m getting to it!” He barked in goblin, taking the pompous man by surprise and causing him to retract. Squib collected himself and turned. “Squib and the Witch had a falling out.”

“A falling out? What does that mean.”

“It means Squib is banished. On second thought I cannot take you there.”

Stuffy seemed to well up at this, like a chicken plumming its feathers. Squib hadn't realised Humans were capable of such feats.

“I say, surely there’s just some misunderstanding. There’s nothing that can’t be rectified without appropriate lubrication. Some sort of incentive perhaps. Besides, it would be us going to see her, not you. You would simply be our guide.”

Stuffy was trying to speak sense, but of course he did not understand.

“You could just wait outside.” The Tavern Owner chimed in, having listened quietly up until now. Squib heard it as a buzzing while in thought, and instinctively waved a hand beside his ear as though a mosquito had flown idly by.

“Hmm, perhaps Squib could wait outside.” He concluded for himself. That sounded like a good idea. There would be a safe distance, behind some trees perhaps, or a shadowy outcropping of rocks. It wouldn't be the first time he’d shrouded himself from the witches presence.

“Tis good plan.” Squib announced.

Stuffy preened. “Excellent!”

“Hold on a minute! Surely I’m not the only one who has a problem with a goblin leading us to a ‘moving island’ with a Witch living on it no less, who even he isn't on good terms with! Come on, back me up here people!?” Rowdy looked expectantly at the group.

Stuffy shrugged.

The Cat’s tail twitched.

The Tavern Owner patted Rowdy on the shoulder and stepped passed, “Come on, I’m sure it’ll all work out for the best.” She smiled.

Squib smiled too, spreading a pointy toothed grin in Rowdy’s direction, mocking him, teasing, as Squib was want to do. ‘Yes, the Witch on the moving island will sort this lot out,’ He thought, and the sooner she did, the sooner he could be rid of them.

Turning on his heel he assumed point at the head of the column, and marched deeper into the swamp.

Much, much deeper.

(Continue to Ep.8)

(Episode Directory)

Support me on Patreon or follow me on Minds for updates.
(Please like, leave a comment, and remind!)