Tuesday, June 24th 1924: Into the Belly of the Beast
Farewells are said with a sense of uncertainty as no one knows what is to come. Mike and Clarke gather the meager supplies left at the base camp and set off across the clearing. The moon has just started to descend in the sky, letting you know that there are still a number of hours left in the night.
The first sign of the bog comes as Mike feels a slight sting in his neck. Slapping his hand to the spot he pulls it away to find the squashed body of a mosquito. Listening carefully you can hear a low buzz in the background of the night.
Slowly you are surrounded by trees, their gnarled roots sprouting in and out of the ground causing you to watch your step. You are able to follow a small worn path as the canopy filters out most of the moonlight. As the smell of fungus, decay, and stagnant water fills your nose you come upon the edge of the bog.
Lined with a thin film of scum, the waters of the bog stretch out before you. Surprisingly, although the professor suggested as much, there is a rickety wooden dock leading out into the water with a trio of small skiffs anchored by ropes. A number of wooden traps sit unfilled. The night is filled by the chirps of insects.
Everything seems... calm. No cults, no bloody zombies, no elder gods.