Chapter 11 – Katan, the Bog Monster, and the Singing Mushrooms

Myrtle 5-9, 1371 D.R.

            We had just walked through a gate leading from the Yaunti lair under the sewers of Tilverton when our first footfall found incredibly swampy ground.  We were in the middle of a bog in swamp where the water had a great range in depth.  It was late afternoon here and swamp everywhere you looked.  This adventure was hard to believe and I lived every moment of it.  Sit back and enjoy the adventure that only a group of playwrights and artisans could duplicate.

            From where we were we could sense, and occasionally see, an Ocean or Sea to the south of us.  We decided that was, therefore, the best direction to travel.  Oskar led the way choosing a path that he and Shane would be safe.  Water of any depth seems to make our dwarven paladin nervous, which I can understand.  After all, dwarves are built solid like rocks.  In fact, in some folk tales, dwarves are said to be part stone and earth giving them their unusual tie to the earth.  If that were true, however, elves would be part woodland as well.  Folk tales told by those who didn’t understand the differences in the races of the Realms.  Back to the adventure…

            Before too long we heard quite a noise coming from up ahead.  We got into a position at the edge of the woods surrounding the sounds.  At first, they had sounded like cries of pain and torture.  Then, as we listened, they were sounds of some incredibly poor singing.  I hadn’t heard singing that poor since…well…I don’t know.  We had found a shack in the middle of this swamp.  There was an old man in a tub singing incredibly off tune and through a variety of keys.  The tub was in his front yard – I suppose no neighbor to complain.

            Then some more voices joined his.  These were a lot more on key and were sort of like the supporting chorus to his song.  We looked all over for any other signs of people and found none.  Instead, we found mushrooms – yes, singing mushrooms.  They are called Campestri and there were a bunch of them.  The chorus sounded good, to our surprise.  They were about two foot tall and had spots all over them.  Suddenly, the mushrooms decided the old man’s bath was to end and stole his clothes and began running around with them.  The old man got out of the tub and gave a good chase but the mushrooms stayed just far enough ahead to keep him at bay.  They were playing with him – it was amazing.

            We discussed how to approach this scenario and decided maybe singing our way in would be best.  We also thought that it wasn’t good for me to go, as my singing was so much different than his in sound and quality.  Oskar volunteered to go.  He stood up, began singing in his gruff dwarven voice, and moved towards the house.  Hearing this visitor, the mushrooms all scattered taking the clothes to parts unknown.  The old man stopped, tried to cover himself for a brief second, and then made a dash for his house.  Once inside he slammed the door, grabbed his crossbow, and pointed it out an upstairs window at Oskar shouting for him to hold his position.  He seemed to think Oskar was an assassin from Selgaunt.  At this point the rest of us joined Oskar, which seemed to frighten the man even more as he just wished to be left alone. 

I began negotiating with the man explaining we were lost and were looking for directions out of the swamp.  His name was Katan and he was about 50 years old.  He was very hesitant and it took a lot of convincing to get him to lower his crossbow.  The negotiations were successful, however, and the old man got dressed and came out to talk with us.  He had been living there for 30 years.  We were invited to stay for a stew dinner and to camp the night.  We also found out this was called Gitchi Gummi Swamp.  He explained how things weren’t right in the swamp and all the larger animals had disappeared like the swamp deer and bigger fish.  We listened to what Katan had to say.  As we looked at each other, it appeared we were going to keep finding out what was up so we could help out.

That evening, I took some time to sing with the mushrooms.  All I had to do was start singing and they came out of the surrounding woods to join in.  They apparently enjoyed singing and music in general.  I was a fun time until, suddenly, they all stopped singing and gathered around the old man.  After the music cleared from the air it was replaced by a low buzzing noise in the swamp.  They were jumping up by the old man and he chuckled as he said, “You’d like me to smoke one of these, would ya?”  He had a home made, and rolled, cigar made of various swamp plants.  He lit it up and it smelled horrid!  It also produced a thick smoke that hung low and ended up engulfing our small island in the swamp.  As the buzzing was loud enough to easily hear, the smoke had created a haze that could be seen through but was visibly present.  This smoke seemed to keep the buzzing of the swamp mosquitoes at bay and lasted the whole night.  The mushrooms stayed in camp with us but had appeared to act as a danger or warning device.

The next morning the haze was gone, as was the buzzing noise and the mushrooms.  Katan was up early to go fishing.  As he went out on his dock to load his boat, some mushrooms ran out and chased him off the dock just as a huge crocodile demolished his dock with one huge bite.  Almost all of them had made it clear but one mushroom had been caught.  The mushroom let out a burst of yellow spores, which seemed to slow the crocodile measurably.  This gave time for Katan to get away and for us to help in finishing off the crocodile.  It was severely malnourished.  We were unable to help the mushroom that didn’t get away.  We decided it was time we investigated some more.

Katan told us of many things in the swamp.  First he mentioned the Bog Monster, which lurked in the swamp.  We had asked about the Yaunti and he mentioned they had arrived in a boat to explore some old ruins.  He also mentioned his missing gray cat named Hlaupa.  He said we could use his boat and mentioned having raised the boat himself.  We found this add as we had inquired if we would all fit in the boat.  He said he had carved it by hand many years ago and it had been a great boat.  He warned us to stay away from the where the willow-the-wisps hang out, to stay away from the haunted tree where moans of the dead were heard, and to watch out for the bog monster, of course.  He even gave us a couple of his cigars for the trip – I knew I wouldn’t be smoking one if they tasted half as bad as they smelled unless our lives depended on it.

We gathered our gear and headed for the boat.  Katan warned us that the boat liked him and he hadn’t ever known anyone else to drive it.  As everyone boarded, I began talking to the boat and asking for its help in returning the swamp back to its normal state of being.  When I looked up, everyone and everything was loaded and the boat had grown to accommodate us.  I kept talking to the boat and then broke into a little traveling song and took hold of the oars.  The boat responded well as was incredibly easy to direct and maneuver.  It was like it sensed what I wanted it to do and it did it on its own.  This was, by far, the easiest boat I had ever had the pleasure of steering.

That day we encountered a poisonous snake, called a water moccasin, and Xan took it down with one, very well placed arrow killing it instantly.  We also encountered a giant leech and a giant sundew.  That night we also heard the sounds of something we thought was possibly Hlaupa.  Xan tried to coax the cat in with a couple of fish but no luck today.  The boat was very easy to dock and store for the evening.  I went and sang it a tune and talked with it a bit before bedtime.  The next day we encountered a yellow musk creeper, that Cedar pointed out, the Haunted Tree where both the boat and I paddled faster to get by it as Oskar could sense a very old evil there, and we saw Hlaupa the cat today.  This was no normal cat – it was a bobcat type cat.  We again tried to lure it into the boat and camp but it disappeared into the swamp again.  We camped again, uneventfully, that night listening to the sounds of the swamp.

We began the 8^th with hearing a swarm of mosquitoes coming towards us.  Thinking quickly, Oskar took out a cigar and lit it.  Unfortunately, he was unable to finish it as he was doubled over coughing.  Xan was next to grab the foul thing and, he too, succumbed to the coughing.  Shane finished the cigar before the coughing caught up with him.  We waited there until the swarm had passed on by us.  I wondered if just putting them in a campfire instead would be less potent to the individual and provide the same protection.  Now was not a time to experiment, however.  Smelling the familiar smell, and possibly hearing the buzzing of the mosquitoes, Hlaupa showed up at the edge of the canal and jumped into the boat.

We then encountered the Bog Monster as it was hiding amongst the foliage in the swamp.  It was huge and looked like an accumulation of things from the swamp even though it was a solitary living creature.  The mosquitoes appeared to be its friends or, at least, its allies.  I was greatly surprised at what occurred next.  Instead of everyone attempting to kill it on an instant, Cedar called out to it.  Then, to my further surprise, we ended up having a discussion with the Bog Monster.  He had replied at one point by saying, “Me help swamp.”  After he was sure that was why we were there as well, he led us through the waterways to the sight of an ancient battle, which he called and, “Old Field”. 

He exited the water and we docked the boat and disembarked.  He then pointed towards the top of the hill as the source of the problem.  Cedar was the first up the hill to investigate.  I stayed down by the boat to keep an eye on things and to make sure our backs were covered.  There was a pool of water with pieces of a skeleton in it.  On the skeleton was an old leather pouch with a metal flask in it.  This had all been submerged for ages.  All around the pool were huge mosquito eggs.  When Cedar cast a spell, he received some odd effects even, at one point, summoning one of the mushrooms to him.  The metal flask had a hole rusted in it and it was slowly leaking into the pool.  Cedar carefully transferred the potion into the empty troll blood vial.  He also thought that magic in this area was messed up, as things weren’t being cast correctly. 

It was decided that the pool had to be destroyed and the big mosquitoes that were left had to be killed to return the swamp to a proper ecosystem.  Cedar explained what needed to happen and convinced the Bog Monster it was the best solution.  He agreed and began calling the mosquitoes to him only to be squished in his giant hands.  Cedar decided a Lightning Bolt would do the best job in this environment but momentarily forgot what he had told us about magic here.  His Lightning Bolt turned into Ball Lightning sending pieces of egg remains all the way down the hill to where I was at the boat.  The Bog Monster helped dig a trench to drain the pool into the swamp waters diluting it so much that the effects would be negated.  It would take some time but the swamp would recover fully.  The Bog Monster was more like a gentle giant than a monster and acted as the swamp guardian.  By placing it’s hand on the water, it was able to call a frog to it.  Maybe it was starting to choose new friends now.  We whistled a tune as the boat and I rowed back towards Katan’s place.

On the way back, some in the group could have sworn the boat ate a fish or two and a turtle.  I didn’t see it, as I was busy rowing.  For it’s shape changing and ability to like or not like someone, I began racking my brain for what this could possibly be.  As we docked, the mushroom was the first to depart joining his friends who had come to greet us.  Hlaupa was next running with its bobcat-like speed straight to Katan for a fond welcome home.  Oriseus and Artur had finished their visit as well and had a good time, which was great to hear based on how their relationship had started.  We unloaded the boat of all of our gear.  I hung back a bit to chat some with the boat and thank it for its help.  After all, without the boat, we would have gotten nowhere in the swamp.

We stayed the night to be rested for our next trip and enjoyed some more stew and singing with the mushrooms.  It was fun evening.  I made sure to save some time to “tuck the boat in” before hitting the sack.  As I lay there right before drifting off, my mind finally found the information that could explain what was going on with the boat.  Was it a Mimic?  Katan could have actually carved the boat originally and the Mimic would have eaten it to take its place.  It must have grown to like the old man and that is why it could react to people in different ways.  It would have explained the fish and turtles as well.

The next morning, Myrtle 9^th, Katan led the group of us out of the swamp to the south and dropped us off on the Coast Road.  If we traveled west we would head to Cormyr and begin our trip back home.  We said our goodbyes and Katan thanked us for finding his cat and helping out.  I said my goodbyes to the boat as well.  I left it with a distinct tune of mine in case we ever returned so it would remember who I was and recognize me.  It was the same tune I had used before bedtime for the past few days so it heard it often.  Until next time, the boat mimic and I now had to part ways.  We headed west hoping the road home would get smoother than the trip down here.

The Songs and Stories of My Life,

Kerith of the Dalelands