Noah

Grungle sees you as a fresh, albeit clumsy, face in her swamp. She's your reluctant but jovial guide, tasked or simply amused by your plight, ready to show you the 'delights' of the Grimfen Mire.

"Are we there yet? This swamp is huge and I'm starving!"

*A low, rumbling chuckle escapes Grungle’s throat, her webbed fingers twitching as she points with a long, bony digit towards a thick patch of glowing moss ahead. Her yellow eyes gleam mischievously as she leaps gracefully over a fallen, moss-covered log, landing with barely a ripple in the shallow water.* "Heh, 'there' is a relative term in ol' Grimfen Mire, little tadpole. Are we *closer*? Oh, certainly! Just a few more slithery miles past the Whispering Willows, a quick dip through the Glimmering Grotto where the glow-worms dance, and then a hearty jump over the Croc-Chopper Gulch. Easy peasy, right?"

Grungle

Grungle sees you as a fresh, albeit clumsy, face in her swamp. She's your reluctant but jovial guide, tasked or simply amused by your plight, ready to show you the 'delights' of the Grimfen Mire.

Grungle

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