The Bottomless Bog

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AnonymousQuote
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The Bottomless Bog

Postby AnonymousQuote » Mon Feb 20, 2017 11:10 am

What follows is based loosely off of a scene that occurs briefly in the 3D remake of Final Fantasy III.
Somewhat relevant background information and character bio that is out of scope for this short work:
A young woman raised by a blacksmith in Kazus. As she travels the land as a Warrior of Light, she seeks to find her true self. Her opposition to the powers of darkness is beyond question, and though she seldom lets it show, she has a caring heart. --Official Description

All characters are 18+ regardless of their original depictions.
Critiques on my writing are always welcome!

With that, I humbly present:

The Bog of Amur
A short story by AnonymousQuote

Refia watched from a distance as her travelling companions splashed into the sewers of the town, Luneth, Ingus, and Arc trading jibes and well-mannered insults as they unslung their weapons and entered the murky, torchlit darkness. As Refia turned away, Luneth's voice echoed out from the darkness, giving her pause.
"Hey, Refia! It's not so bad down here!" There was a short splash, and a pause, followed by what sounded like Ingus snickering. "You really should join us!"
Refia shuddered. There wasn't a chance that she was going down there, even if it was for a magical item. It was probably full of rats... and toads. No matter how many vile monsters she and her companions had slain over the past few months, Refia was beginning to think that she would never get over her hatred of toads. Their huge eyes, their tongues, the slime... Goosebumps ran across Refia's skin. It was better not to dwell on these things.
As the splashes from the sewer faded, Refia spun from the gate and walked back towards the center of town. The air was warm, puffy white clouds drifting through the sky as a light breeze tousled her shoulder-length, red-blonde hair. As she walked, Refia did her best to ignore the stares of the townfolk, particularly the men. It didn't help that she and her companions were new in town, but Refia herself cut quite a figure as well.
She dressed modestly for the most part, wearing a long sleeved cotton blouse that laced up the front, its lowest part flaring out into a sort of skirt. A long blue vest was draped over her shoulders, open at the front and fastened at the top with a golden brooch. Form-fitting black leggings ran down into her thigh-high leather boots, clicking softly on the cobblestones as she walked. The dagger at her hip and a confident sway in her step belied a level of experience far beyond that which her youthful appearance would imply.

The cobblestones gradually turned to well-kept grass, and then to waist-high wheat and field grasses as Refia ventured farther out of the town's gates. The only thing to spoil the beautiful spring afternoon was the sight of their beautiful airship chained to the town's dock with a massive length of black iron. Frowning, Refia thought back to when they had first arrived in the town where they currently stayed, Amur. Someone in the inn had suggested that the mayor of the town, a belligerent, greedy fellow, had chained the ship up overnight due to fear that the group had arrived to cause unrest in his relatively peaceful hamlet.

Pulling a folded sheet of parchment from her pocket, Refia unfolded the map and oriented it. Purchased from a man at the inn (for a significant discount, no less), it was decent quality, detailing the surrounding plains and woodlands with a decent degree of accuracy. It also showed the location of Amur, and the location of the mayor's house relative to it. The manor seemed to be directly south of the village, about a two hour walk. There was a dark, oddly shaped spot between the town and the manor which smelled slightly of spoiled wine and had mostly obliterated a few bolded words on the edge of the paper.
Refia shrugged, folding the map and placing it back in its pocket. It had been almost free, after all.
The manor looked to have been about an hour's walk from the village, which meant that she would make it before sundown if she hurried. A new determination in her step, Refia set out for the mayor's residence, determined to reclaim their ship, whatever it took.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Meanwhile, Luneth, Arc, and Ingus sat on the stairs to the sewer entrance, discarding their sopping wet footwear in exchange for the new, magical shoes that they had obtained. As they stood, Luneth pocketed a fourth pair of the shoes, glancing about in the hope that Refia hadn't wandered off during their underground excursion.
His cursory search yielding nothing, Luneth turned to Arc, who was already looking at a map. "You don't think that Refia went on ahead without us, do you?"
Arc frowned. "I hope not. The elder made it quite clear that we needed these shoes to get to the mayor's house, for some reason." He folded the map. "We should check around the village first. She could simply be waiting at the inn."

A feeling of foreboding built in Luneth's gut as he concluded his search, Ingus and Arc returning to the center of town after conducting similar sweeps of the village. Both showed no signs of having found her. Fearing the worst, the trio entered the inn to speak with the populace. A short while later they burst from the door, a sharp crack sounding as the heavy oak collided with the outer wall of the inn. The trio had hastily purchased three horses after they discovered that Refia had indeed gone ahead without them, and they mounted their steeds breathlessly, guiding them towards the village gate.
Grimacing, Arc glanced at the sun. "Based on what we've heard, she has a two hour head start on us. If we ride hard, we might catch her before she gets into trouble."
With the prospect of Refia being in dire peril spurring them onwards, Arc, Luneth, and Ingus drove their mounts to a gallop and rushed from the village, headed south.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A tangled net of dark, crooked branches criss-crossed over the trail, casting dark shadows that made it difficult for Refia to read her map, despite the brightness of the remaining daylight outside the forest. She had tripped several times on branches hidden beneath the mist that now obscured her path, and the grasping shrubbery was encroaching ever further on her already-slim path through the trees.
Refia nearly walked into an extremely dense patch of briars, so engrossed was she in the map. Based on what it showed, the forest shouldn't be here, unless it was beneath the dark blotch on the paper. Sighing, Refia folded the map and surveyed the dense wall of thorns in front of her. It extended as far as she could see (albeit not far, in the misty darkness of the woods) to both sides, the equally dense and pointy shrubs on both sides of the path restricting her from going around.

Spotting a small opening in the path in front of her, Refia turned sideways, squeezing through a crack in the otherwise impassable briars. Before she could even catch her breath after making it through, she slipped down a steep embankment, landing with a squishy thud on a wet patch of grey-green grass. Incredulous, Refia raised herself to a sitting position, her hands pushing little divots in the soft grass and earth.
The map was now entirely ruined from the fall, soaked through from the wet grass. The mayor's house was visible in the distance, however, yellow lights shining through the strange, sudden twilight.
Mist swirled through the air, dimming the late afternoon light and collecting on the ground between lumpy islands of blighted marsh grass and skimming over the surface of innumerable pools of water. Dusting herself off as best she could in her current state, Refia came shakily to her feet, the wet earth wobbling slightly beneath her weight.

The marsh proved easier to navigate than Refia had anticipated, even though her feet had slipped through the grass cover on more than one occasion, briefly trapping her before she was able to extricate herself. The mansion gradually became closer and closer as Refia picked her way across the boggy marsh, the grassy patches gradually becoming more and more sparse. Eventually she was forced to wade through the fetid, knee-deep water to make progress, aiming for another cluster of the patchy grass "islands" where the water seemed to stop.
Breathless, Refia pulled herself from the water, kneeling on the relatively dry ground of another grass mound. From here on, the water was less prevalent, replaced with what looked like a patchy, muddy carpet of the grey-green grass.
Glancing at herself, Refia wasn't surprised to find that she was no longer in any condition to meet the mayor of anything, her boots spattered with countless drops of mud, her vest and shirt doing no better. The sleeves of her shirt were stained a dark brown, a result of her struggles with the bog's attempt to trap her.
Resolutely, Refia stood and continued on, not deterred from her goal in the slightest. The manor was less than a quarter mile away, and the terrain from here on was easier.

Refia set out across the last stretch of marshland, her stride unaffected by the ever-increasing jiggle of the ground that she passed over. Eventually, however, the strain on the grassy mat was too much. Refia's foot plunged through the covering, a thick slurp greeting the sight of mud folding around her ankles. Bracin her other foot on the ground, as she had before, to free herself, the patch of grass crumbled completely.
The loose earth holding the top cover of grass together dissolved, sinking abruptly into the peaty mud below it, completely erasing the evidence that grass had been there in the first place. Now both of Refia's feet were stuck, leaving her stranded at the center of the new mudpit. Reminding herself of her goal, Refia strained to lift her feet from the thick, peaty mass. The mud wouldn't give her up, though. Every time it seemed that she was making progress, her boot sliding slowly out of the mud's grip, her other leg slipped deeper, completely negating any positive effect her struggles had.
When Refia finally abandoned this tactic, her legs were pinned together at the knee by the strong hold of the mire, a pit slowly forming around her legs as her body weight alone pushed her deeper into the mud's hold. The morass bubbled and hissed sickly as Refia sank deeper, only the tops of her boots visible above the dark brown mud.

Refia could feel her toes gradually pointing more and more downwards into the mire, the thick slurry shifting and bubbling against her legs, drawing her slender legs further into its hold. The disconcerting feeling of mud sliding along her leggings sent a shiver down Refia's spine, the mud sliding into the open tops of her boots and gradually filling them, quickening her descent.
Leaning back, Refia placed her hands on the mud, looking for the leverage to raise even one of her legs to the surface. Refia gasped as her arms plunged in past her forearms, leaving her lying almost supine on the thick quicksand's surface. With great difficulty, she managed to extract her arms, the mud protesting with loud sucking noises as she did so.
Her hips settled into the mire, the flowy bottom of her blouse and vest spreading around her on the surface of the mud. Squirming in an attempt to alleviate the feeling of the cold mud pressing in on her skin beneath her blouse, Refia leaned forwards, trying to move her legs beneath the mud. The morass only quivered in response, absorbing her movements and slapping wetly against her navel.

The quicksand wasted no time encircling Refia's slender waist, gripping her ever tighter as she sank deeper and deeper into the quaking, bottomless bog. The feeling of the mud moving around her and pulling her deeper was sickening, the wet, slimy mire relentless in swallowing more of its beautiful prey.
After several more attempts to push herself free, attempts that ended only in coating her arms with more mud, Refia turned her attention to the mansion at the end of the bog, swallowing her pride.

"Help! I'm sinking in quicksand!" Her plea echoed dully across the bog, and Refia prayed that it had carried far enough. As she gathered her breath to call out again, the front door to the distant mansion flew open.
Refia's hopes soared--for a brief moment. In what seemed like no time at all, the figure within the doorway reached out and slammed the door. And then, all at once, the lights at the mansion went out.
"What?! Hey! I need help!" Refia stared disbelievingly at the mansion, struggling to keep from sinking any farther. Her arms only slipped beneath the surface again and again, her twisting and squirming digging her farther into the mud.
"I know you can hear me!" Refia shouted, her voice a little hoarse. "I'm sinking---" The feeling of the mud crawling up her breasts interrupted her cry, drawing a sharp gasp from the trapped damsel. Her eyes went wide, the immediacy of her situation quickly becoming apparent.
A last attempt to push herself from the mud's hold left Refia's arms trapped firmly at her sides. "Please!" Refia glanced around. "I'll do anything! I'm going to sink under!" The outline of her breasts in the mud vanished as she sank even further, the tops of her shoulders the only indication that she was still struggling, twisting her body in an attempt to break the mud's hold.
The mud was pressing in on her chest, the weight making it difficult to breathe, let alone cry for help. "Please..." Refia gasped, a sharp sob shaking her body. "I'm going to drown in quicksand!" The mud folded over her shoulders, and crawled rapidly along her neck. Her shining, red-blonde hair pooled on the surface of the mud, contrasting starkly with the deep brown mire.

Suddenly, from the distance, Luneth's voice echoed. "Refia!! Where are you?!"
Refia's eyes went wide. "Luneth!" She shouted. "I'm he---" Her cry was cut off by the mud covering her mouth. Refia struggled to raise her head even one inch from the surface, to signal to her companions, but the morass had other ideas. It spat out a bubble, spattering her features with thick gobs of mud, as if claiming her as its own.
The mire sucked her down, first muting the outside world as her ears sank below the surface, and then depriving her of air as her nose sank. Gradually, the soft, thick mud rolled in to cover her view, reducing the misty sky to a pinprick before erasing it altogether.
Refia hung in the quicksand's embrace, the warm mud holding her with immense pressure, squeezing the breath from her and keeping her in utter silence. Eventually, the pressure was too much, Refia releasing her held breath. Bubbles wriggled slowly up to the surface, popping thickly around the spot where her hair had finally been pulled beneath the surface.
Before the thick mud could enter her mouth, Refia passed out, limp underneath the surface of the mud.

If you like grim endings, you may stop here.
Otherwise, you may continue.


Luneth had seen the last glimmer of Refia's hair above the surface before it was pulled under. Desperately, he threw off his shoes and his chainmail hauberk, keenly aware that his time was severely limited. Gripping Ingus' forearm, he plunged into the mud, probing for Refia's form with his feet. Ingus, wearing the shoes granted to them in the sewers, floated slightly off the surface of the marsh, the effect of the powerful enchantment on the footwear. He strained to keep Luneth within his grip as his companion delved deeper into the quicksand.
Grunting, Luneth forced his legs around what he hoped was Refia's torso, praying that he was strong enough to lift her from the mud with only his legs. Arc grabbed Luneth's other arm, and together with Ingus, slowly began to pull Luneth from the mud.
Inch by inch, Luneth's mud-covered torso appeared, the mud making thick slurping noises as it reluctantly relinquished its prey. Luneth growled, his hold on his companions slipping briefly. Slowly but surely, Luneth appeared, finally yielding the mud-coated form of Refia. When her shoulders were free, Ingus and Arc took hold of her, allowing Luneth to crawl backwards out of the mud.
When Refia was finally free, Arc knelt over her muddied form, dirty hands paging frantically through a spellbook.
Luneth watched nervously. "Hurry, Arc! Raise doesn't work forever!"
Arc grimaced. "I know, I know. Gods, this spellbook is a mess."
So taken were Arc and Luneth with finding the proper tome for Raise, they failed to notice the small cough from below them.
Ingus glanced down, and then up at Arc. "It is not necessary," he said quietly. "She lives."

~fin

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PM2K
Always Remembered
Posts: 10386
Joined: Wed Apr 15, 2009 6:14 pm
Location: Eastern Ontario

Re: The Bottomless Bog

Postby PM2K » Mon Feb 20, 2017 6:32 pm

Nicely done! :D Reminds me how I have to get back to this writing thing. ;)

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DJlurker
Posts: 1468
Joined: Sun Apr 19, 2009 6:29 pm

Re: The Bottomless Bog

Postby DJlurker » Mon Feb 20, 2017 8:34 pm

PM2K wrote:Nicely done! :D Reminds me how I have to get back to this writing thing. ;)

Yes, you should get back to this writing thing :P I'm busy writing a new QS story, myself.

That being said, good job on this one, AQ! I wonder if you'll draw an illustration to go with it? ;)

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AnonymousQuote
Posts: 110
Joined: Wed Apr 22, 2015 1:43 am

Re: The Bottomless Bog

Postby AnonymousQuote » Tue Feb 21, 2017 2:57 pm

DJlurker wrote:That being said, good job on this one, AQ! I wonder if you'll draw an illustration to go with it? ;)


Thanks! As for an illustration, I hope to commission one fairly soon if all goes well :)


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