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After two days rest, enjoying their new found fame Trimus and the others set off for the Malpheggi Swamp. Jerro had given Trimus directions to the most profitable location, some sixteen miles north west of the city near an low, dry island standing proud above the swamp. The journey was difficult. Just navigating through the maze of waterways, pools and bogs was hard enough without the attendant dangers of marsh beasts and the small biting insects that got through even the best armour. Darkhawk took to travelling in his Dark Warrior form as this protected him from all but the most persistent of the insects. The first night they camped on a small patch of slightly higher ground but they were soaked through anyway by a heavy shower just before dawn. Cold, damp and miserable they trudged on through the interminable swamp, the horizon lost in a thick blanket of mist.
On such a grey day it was easy to become lost and a number of times they had to stop and retrace their steps to go around large pools or expanses of shaking bog. Near noon Gieve halted the party and turned around slowly sniffing the air.
"Blood." He said ominously. "Very strong."
Part of the damp air thickened and reddened and burst towards the party, bringing with it the charnel smell that Gieve had noticed scant moments before. The cloud of red mist enveloped Ako who screamed and flailed madly with his mace, the cloud growing and deepening in hue as time passed. Trimus and Gieve let off magic blasts that split and thinned the cloud allowing Ako to stumble clear and Grabthroat with Darkhawk's aid to destroy it. Ako was very pale and weak and needed a pair of healing spells before he could rise to his feet.
"Vampiric Mist." Stated Trimus. "Very unusual, and usually deadly."
"Tell me about it." Muttered Ako sarcastically and Trimus was about to till he saw the look on the cleric's face.

Ako's weakened condition slowed their progress still further and it wasn't until the end of that day that they reached the mound. The light was fading fast and they made a camp on the slopes of the mound and prepared for sleep. The few trees and bushes were sufficient for a small fire and Gieve skinned and cooked a couple of marsh rabbit he had caught earlier. As the embers were sinking back to a warm glow a figure approached the fire and spoke in a quiet almost liquid voice.
"Friends. I seek aid. Will you help us?"
The figure, elfin in stature but with milk white eyes and a strange pasty skin, garishly hued from the glow of the fire stood skittishly some ten paces from the party like a frightened deer.

Ako stood slowly and held his hands out towards the figure, palms upwards. "Are you hurt? Do you need aid?" he asked kindly and softly.
"Yes. We need aid." The figure replied still looking from member of the party to the next. "Our clanhold has been taken by frogmen and our children are suffering in the swamp. Can you aid us?"
"We may be able to." Replied Ako cautiously looking back at the others who variously shrugged and nodded. "Come closer and share our fire and food."
"Thank you, I will." The elven figure came closer. Up close he appeared less like an elf, smaller in stature but tougher, less fragile. "I am Sorvar, leader of my clanhold. I am not easy amongst humans so please excuse my manners."
"You are not an elf are you?" asked Grabthroat curiously.
"No" smiled Sorvar, "You would name us Changelings, 'shifters or Metamorphs, all names I have heard as we have been chased from place to place. Here in the swamp I thought we'd be safe, but no even here we are attacked and thrown from our clanhold. This time by the Bullywugs."
"Is the clanhold far from here?" asked Gieve.
"No. My people are camped just over the rise and that is in sight of the hold itself. We are a peaceful people but we have received signs that me have to make a stand here."
"Can your people wait till morning. Our cleric is sorely injured and needs rest." Asked Gieve.
"Yes. If you aid us, we can wait." Sorvar said quietly.

Come the morning, the mist had thinned and after a swift breakfast Trimus and Ako meditated on their spells. Once the spellcasters were ready they moved off towards the low rise beyond which lay Sorvar's clanhold. On cresting the rise they found Sorvar's people, eight adults and four children, camped in the lee of the hill, a small fire burning. On seeing Sorvar they got to their feet but were wary at the sight of Darkhawk and the others. Sorvar spoke to them in a soft fluid tongue and they relaxed slightly. He continued speaking and four of the eight adults stepped forward to join him. He brought them over to Gieve and they bowed.
"I, and my four clanfolk will join you on your mission to free our clanhold from the Bullywugs. We may not look strong but we have other talents that might be of assistance."
"I have heard of your talents." Replied Trimus, "They will be most useful. Now where is your clanhold?"

Sorvar led the party through a scrubby wood of small knurled trees and bushes, stunted from the poor soil, onto a plateau at the centre of which was a fortified encampment some two hundred foot square. At the gateway two large frog like creatures with large bulbous eyes, and wide mouths full of sharp pointed teeth. Within the cover of the sparse trees Gieve turned to Grabthroat. "This is the plan. You and I will become invisible and kill the guards. Once that is done, the others can rush forward and take on the rest. You 'shifters had better stay out of sight, there's nothing you can do."
Trimus looked round at Sorvar and winked. Sorvar gave a wink and a faint smile in return. Ako noticing the exchange wondered what the mage and the metamorph had been talking about on their journey from the campsite.
Grabthroat pulled a glass flask from his pack and drunk it down making a face as he did so. Within seconds the thick set dwarf was totally invisible and so was Gieve, the thief having put a thin gold ring on his left hand. The others watched from their position at the edge of the wood, the Bullywugs on guard at the gate looking around and sniffing the air with their tongues. Suddenly one Bullywug went down as Gieve appeared behind it and slit its throat. The other spun around as a crossbow bolt appeared out of nowhere and pierced its shoulder. Grabthroat also visible finished the guard off with a single blow of Kagyar. Gieve waved the others forward and turned to examine the gate. Trimus turned to Sorvar. "Now its your turn Sorvar." He said and the metamorph grinned grimly. Ako gasped as the sallow skinned humanoid and his friends shimmered and shrunk. Where the metamorphs had been standing five small, dull coloured birds circled then flew towards the encampment. As Trimus, Ako and Darkhawk approached Gieve and Grabthroat the sparrows returned. It was Gieve's turn to be surprised as the transformed back into their humanoid forms.
"There are about two score Bullywugs inside." Reported Sorvar. "One of them appears to be a shaman."
"Thank you Sorvar." Said Trimus, "Now for stage two." Sorvar nodded and again his outline began to change, this time fur and claws replaced skin and fingers, before long five brown bears stood before Trimus.
"Excellent!" muttered Gieve and he again became invisible. Darkhawk silently became the Dark Warrior and blasted the gateway allowing the avenging horde to rush in amongst the startled Bullywugs. Several were dead from the wounds inflicted by the shattering gate and many others died as they were borne to the ground by the vengeful bears. The shaman, a strange figure with a robe of snakeskin and a sceptre of bone was soon joined by a coterie of tougher looking Bullywugs who fought a rear guard action to keep the fighters at bay. Suddenly Gieve became visible and gave a loud cry of pain. Ako went to him as the others pressed home their advantage. Grabthroat took aim at the shaman and let fly a bolt but this was intercepted by one of the guards who fell to his knees gurgling through a hole in his throat. Trimus let loose a magic missile which exploded into the shaman's face confused for a moment the Bullywugs fell under the onslaught of bears claws and human steel, the shaman the last to go ripped asunder by two of the bears.
The battle done Sovar and the others returned to their normal form.
"Thank you, friends." Said Sovar solemnly, bowing first to Trimus and then the others. "But I fear your friend has been badly hurt."
"It's his face." Muttered Ako in a concerned voice. "The shaman must have cast some sort of spell, its all burnt and blistered. I have done what I can but he his still very weak."
"It was some kind of burning touch. He came from nowhere. I'll be all right." The thief grumbled through cracked and blackened lips. "Let's see what they left behind." "Sovar, will you come with us and identify what is yours?" asked Trimus.
"Surely." He replied. "But, whatever else is here is yours as a reward."
"Thank you." replied Trimus and the others.

Searching the bodies and the huts revealed all the belongings of the metamorphs, bowls and carvings, clothes and jewellery along with stores of food. The Bullywugs had also accumulated a large store of treasure from their raids. Sacks of silver, electrum and copper coins along with a small pouch of gems completed the haul. "There is something else you need" said Sovar handing Trimus a covered basket. The mage lifted off the cover to reveal a selection of knobbly roots. "Isloma roots." Sovar said when he saw Trimus' puzzled expression.
"Thank you." Trimus muttered gratefully. "I hope you won't be bothered by anyone else. Rest assured we will not tell anyone you are here."
With that Trimus and the others made their way back to the city. Gieve's injuries slowed him for a time until Framous was able to cast more healing spells on him so it was after dark, a full two days before they reached the marsh gate. The following morning Trimus visited Jerro with the roots. The small alchemist was pleased and swiftly pummelled them with pungent herbs and earths into a smelly green paste.
"I don't have to eat that do I?" asked Trimus disgusted.
"No!" laughed Jerro, "Just smear it onto your head and wrap your head with these leaves before you go to bed tonight." He handed over a small bowl of the ointment along with a parcel of large dark green leaves.

That night Trimus did as he was told, much to the disgust of his friends and the next morning despite his misgivings his head was covered with a finger's width of black hair. True it took three or four days before any of the others would stand downwind of him but still he was pleased.

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