The stench hit first. It was like if depression, foot fungus, and microwave shrimp ramen had an orgy in a porta-potty and then bottled the aroma. Finn gagged so hard his hoodie tried to escape his body like it had rights.
"Why does the air feel like wet ham?" he gasped, covering his nose.
Majestria, ever the elegant divine snob, hovered half an inch off the wooden planks, her face wrinkled in disgust.
"It's a cursed swamp settlement," she said, waving a hand to conjure a faint breeze. "Smells like divine punishment and unwashed cosplay outfits."
They stood at the edge of a crooked wooden boardwalk, which creaked like it had arthritis. The town sprawled before them: half-submerged stilt houses leaned at impossible angles, green swamp gas bubbled from beneath, and somewhere in the distance, a duck screamed like it had seen the future and r