Dawn breaks as you sail into the estuary of Dakushna’s Channel. Prarg keeps the boat in the centre of the wide waterway, where the slimy water is deepest and the ever-present risk of grounding upon submerged debris is less likely to befall you.
Soon you are enveloped by the chaotic wilderness of the Hellswamp and you feel your spirits drop, as if they are being leeched by some unseen vampire. The monotonous view of slime-laden mudflats extends seemingly forever on every side, broken only occasionally by a dead, vine-strangled tree. You both take some comfort in the fact that there is a wind and it is blowing in a favourable direction. Despite the depressing scenery you make good progress until, late in the afternoon, you are forced to lower your sail when you reach a point where unexpectedly the channel splits in two. Prarg says that this split must have occurred recently, for it was not present the last time he sailed this way. Reluctantly he admits that he is not sure which way to go.
Upon the edge of the left bank, in the middle distance, you see a circle of mud huts perched close to the channel’s edge. You magnify your vision, but you are unable to discern any signs of life.
If you wish to enter the left channel which passes close to the circle of mud huts, turn to 144.
If you wish to take the right channel and thereby avoid passing by the huts, turn to 235.