"Hell!"
Diego let out an exasperated curse and pulled his boot out of the knee-high mud.
He was lucky not to leave his boots in the mud.
"How far is it?"
He looked at the guide beside him with some irritation and asked in a low voice.
"We're about two-thirds of the way and we think we'll have to walk another hour."
Lieutenant Timonsey looked at the old willow trees that loomed in the fog and said uncertainly.
Diego couldn't help but let out a feeble sigh.
From early in the morning until now, they had been trekking through this damp and muddy mud pond for more than two hours, and everyone was exhausted from torture.
To add insult to injury, they spent almost half the time they spent digging out boots that had been sucked off by the mud.
In Azeroth, this kind of swampy landscape is not uncommon, such as the Dust Swamp of the Kalimdor Continent and the Sad Swamp of the East Coast of the Eastern Kingdom Continent, which are all known for their low-lying terrain and mud all over the place.
However, unlike low-lying swamps such as the Dust and Sorrow Swamps, which are formed by the inflow of seawater, the wetlands are formed by the impact of sediment carried by the river water washed down from the boulder dams upstream, and are typical alluvial plains.
This vast wetland is flat and has a dense network of water, with large and small ponds and lakes everywhere.
It has a cold and humid climate, with small rivers, lakes and pools.
A year-round fog obscures the sky, and as far as the eye can see, there are only endless clumps of weeds and sparse trees.
It's a virgin land that still retains its savage character, and with the exception of the port city of Minethil Harbor, the Copperbeard Dwarves have not built any settlements in the area.
In this wilderness with abundant water and grass, there are murderous intentions hidden everywhere.
Dangerous swamp bay crocodiles roam the water, ready to overturn any creature that dares to pass overhead, and social velociraptors roam the swamps in search of a target to hunt.
And then there's the mossy gnoll tribe hidden in the mist, and for a bite to eat, these murderous bandits dare to attack any caravan that passes through their territory.
Luckily, Diego and the others didn't encounter any creatures who dared to challenge them along the way, perhaps because they also knew that this heavily armed army was not easy to mess with, and rushed up to rush to it without eating the meat, but it was very possible to deliver food.
They traveled a little slower than Lieutenant Timonsey had expected, and it was not until it was nearly noon that the group found the blue-cheeked fish-man settlement, more than thirty miles north of the port of Minethil.
They stopped behind a small dirt bag on a slightly higher ground, and on the other side of the dirt bag, more than a mile away, was the fish-man's village.
It's just downwind so that it doesn't blow their scent to the fish-people.
Under Huffman's arrangement, the soldiers of the Storm Whip were all hurrying to drink water and rest, and some pot-bellied men even took the opportunity to eat something to pad their stomachs, but no one dared to eat enough, because eating too much could easily cause vomiting in the heat of battle - bending over and vomiting in front of the enemy's wielding weapons, crazy?
Diego donned his lizardskin cloak and crawled through the overgrown dirt bags with Masrae, who had transformed into a cheetah, and sneaked up close to the fish-man's village, taking a closer look at the large fish-man village built on the coast.
The houses in the village are all stilt houses made of some broken branches and mud mixed with water and grass, and they are scattered and unplanned.
There are no fires, no clean roads, and no fortifications in the fish-man villages.
Most of these fish-man huts are crude and have a variety of appearances, except for some representative shallow pools behind the shamans' houses.
The wooden feet underneath these stilt houses are about a man as tall as a man – for the height of a fish-man – to protect against floods and tides.
In stark contrast to their original exterior, the interiors of most fish-man huts are intricately decorated.
Some are decorated with bifurcated corals, some are inlaid with shells, and there are amazing tapestries woven from dried seaweed.
Huts usually have no walls, just small wooden pillars supporting their seaweed roofs.
The fish people sleep on huge mussel shells filled with water or straw mats made of seaweed, which are firmly woven to maintain their shape, but their gaps are so loose that they look like a small rectangular net.
Between these dense house buildings, some fish-people are busy coming and going.
They kept moving all sorts of things into the big house in the middle of the village, some of which were left there, some of which were moved out untouched.
These fish-people look like big fat fish with rickets, their large mouths full of sharp teeth, their pectoral and pelvic fins have been transformed into arms and legs, and their dorsal fins have become clusters of sharp spines, but they still have webbing between their fingers and toes, their short tail fins, and their skin is constantly secreting moist mucus, which allows them to survive on land and in water.
In front of some of the huts, some fish-men are tinkering with all sorts of strange things.
It has to be said that fish-people are skilled sculptors who can carve stone, shells, coral, and wood into amazing crafts.
Diego saw from afar a fish-man carving a large chunk of coral into a lifelike seal statue in two clicks.
"What are they doing?"
Looking at the bustling fish-man village, Masrae asked in a low voice.
"I don't know, but I can tell that they are defenseless."
Diego took the general layout of the village in mind, then gestured to Masrae, ready to retreat behind the mound where the group was resting.
But just then, he saw a twisted figure appear at the door of the big house.
It was a female Naga.
Free novels bring you joy and joy ---> storyskyline.net
She held a green coral staff and stood in the doorway looking into the distance.
Several fish-man shamans followed her, flatteringly saying something.
"Sure enough, there is the shadow of Naga behind these fishmen!"
Diego said with some excitement.
He wanted to find out what was going on in the deep sea from the fish-man's mouth, but now he had a better choice.
These Naga must know better!
"I'm going to find out how many of these Naga there are?"
Masrae whispered.
He hunched down, took a few steps forward, and disappeared into the grass.
Diego plucked the Death Stare from behind him, mounted it in front of him, and aimed at the door of the big house.
He was ready to provide fire support to Masrae if needed.