[Center][color=598527]Gerard Voss[/color] | Approaching Wanderneir[/center]

	[color=598527]"[i]Go to Wanderneir they said. Stop irritating the dwarf traders, again, they said. Stop coming back after every expedition, they said.[/i] The main road being through a swamp was hardly mentioned. And not even an interesting ruin in sight..."[/color] The blue coat and dark silver trims of the long coat that was being worn by the human would normally be fairly decent at not standing out in low light situations. Of course, the shock of pure white hair did not help in that matter at all, nor did the fact he was keeping his surroundings well lit. A small crystal was hanging from his belt, having been resting in a pouch before needed, and trapping a small amount of agitated mana inside of it and letting it refract, thus producing light. He knew full well that swamps hid all sorts of things, from Slimes to other beasts, so the last thing he needed was to stumble into something blind. It wouldn't be fun for anyone involved then, realy.

	With his surroundings lit, Gerard was keeping to the dry patches as best he could. Swamps held all sorts of nasty, tricky things for those unaware. Last thing he needed was for his gadgets and experimental pieces of equipment to get lost in some swamp and rust into nothing. Considering the state of the roads, such as they were, he was mostly working off the clear spots he could see Wanderneir in the distance, plus the odd sign that was either damaged or otherwise present to some degree. At one point he had caught the sound of something moving through the brush and low lying swampland, and he had produced his Shortcaster, the six barreled contraption, and was moving through the area with it in hand just in case. The bioluminescence was a boon to a degree, but it only lit some areas. The problem was the areas that were not lit, which meant he produced his own light, though nowhere as potent as a proper torch or lantern, it took up far less space and mana to use.

	[color=598527]"Last time I was in a swamp, nearly stumbled into a Slime den, near enough for them to wake up. Took nearly a week to clean the goop off my boots..."[/color] Such was a habit of his, constantly muttering or talking to himself, it kept him focused and alert instead of constantly trudging on in silence. He had to constantly sweep and search the area as he moved forward, sometimes angling the light from his crystalline replacement for a lantern to light up suspicious deep spots. Again, he had no interest of stumbling into a Slime bathing pool and having to try and fight his way out. Sure, he had no doubts he could manage, but that didn't mean he wanted to. [color=598527]"Should have left earlier, then again, would have been leaving at night to get through this swamp by nightfall. At least on foot..."[/color]