From the Marsh || Aza

As he traversed through the obscured marshland, the black, tar-like water only seemed to be getting more viscous. Eyes glinted from the swathes of shadows, the undergrowth rustling as he could hear the faintest of growling. Splendid, but at least his leg worked well enough for him to run now if need be. It was really starting to seem like Aza was going to need an escape plan if he wanted to survive and get to Murkhaven. 

Why did anyone even live out here? Sure, Brookfell was a sweltering cesspool of depravity and corruption, but by Arceus it was still better than this. Aza had never seen an area so dark and foreboding, and he would have wished to keep it that way. Perhaps he could see in the dark, but that didn't make it any easier when the spirits wouldn't shut up. 

Aza stumbled through the thick mire, his annoyance growing with his headache. He was an idiot for going to a city surrounded by fog and essentially no light beacons. However, there was some hope out here, for the first creature to approach him did not want to rip him to shreds.

Actually, it was kind of adorable.

Aza smiled nervously at the Dewgong, glancing at the necklace adorning it. He paid that no mind, though, when the Dewgong beckoned him to follow. Trust a random Pokemon…well, it's either that or get eaten by shadow Pokemon. And I think I'll take my chances with this Dewgong. 

He clambered through the foliage and debris, broken branches snapping as he followed the docile creature. It seemed to be warding off the feral Pokemon, which Aza took as a good sign. There were definitely shadow Pokemon on the outskirts of this swamp; he had seen the flicker of the dark colors for a brief moment. Aza had never really been face-to-face with one, but he figured it was about as aggressive as a Pokemon could be. 

At the very least, it didn't sound like a pleasant experience.

"So, you come here often?" Aza inquired from the Dewgong, albeit jokingly, since he knew the creature couldn't understand him. 

As if on cue, the Dewgong replied with a soft wooing noise, looking back at him to make sure he was keeping pace. Unfortunately, it was much harder for him to move through the muddy waters, so he wasn't really keeping pace. At least the friendly Pokemon was waiting for him to catch up.

Otherwise, he'd probably get a swarm of angry Pokemon on him, and that was the last thing he wanted. The spirits seemed to clamor for the violence that could ensue, though.

Is murder the only thing these things ever talk about? Don't you guys have any hobbies?

No response. Of course there would be silence; why did he even bother communicating with them? 

Aza trekked through the swamp to catch up with the Dewgong, who looked back at him and tilted its head inquisitively. Whenever a feral Pokemon would try to dart out and attack, the Dewgong would be on it in moments, and Aza started feeling more and more worried about this thing.

At least it was on his side. But what even was it fused with? He'd never seen a Dewgong like this.

Well, there were definitely things off with Murkhaven.