Travel Diary- Undertow

[skinstealer]

??-??-316, Backwash, Consumption


 
Today I went to the swamp and handled the ghost problem, and although I got my hands very dirty (as well as the rest of me, in a very literal sense), it went about as well as it could have. I separated the ghosts that were non-sapient into their individual components, seeing as they were just repeating motions over and over- essentially machines at that point- and dismissed hostile ghosts from this plane. The peaceful or simply mischievous ghosts, I spoke to and made bargains with- they were scaring the townspeople, and they could either make peace with the people there and try and find some kind of balance, or stop...stealing their shit and making weird noises in the middle of the night. Some kind of in between. Some chose to retreat deeper into the swamp and call it quits, which works fine for me. Not my problem anymore.



It was enough for me to return back to the shop, carrying a pile of scraps to prove I had at the very least cleared out the hostile ghosts giving them trouble. They were delighted, and were happy to take what I offered, with some extra cash thrown in. I was honestly surprised they had the extra to give, and I felt a little dirty taking it, but I have a lot of travelling to do. Beggars can’t be choosers. 



I went back to the inn to start packing up, seeing as I had another full night of hitchhiking ahead of me- but I was offered a free meal for my services to the town, and I accepted, seeing as I had barely eaten this morning. The bread I had bought from the general store 
was...alright, but farming here is difficult, and the crops show it. The dinner however was, frankly, amazing, the best food I’ve had here bar none. Not to be cheesy, but you could taste the love put into it, and even though it was yet another meat dish with spices, it was like it opened my eyes to the room for the very first time.

The space I was in, despite having lived in it for a night already, was cozy, nowhere near as cramped and claustrophobic as the buildings I had grown used to in the Consumption cities. It was smaller, sure, but the space was used so much...warmly. Everything about it was more pleasant, with rugs, keepsakes, and candles keeping everything feeling more friendly and welcoming. The people spoke to me just as kindly, and I realized quickly that I was wrong to judge the entire place as a hellscape- there were these little pockets of good, tucked away from the concrete cities. 

And as I was horrified to find out, people were trying to stamp them out.

My hosts told me that the cult did not take kindly to the smaller settlements outside of the cult’s influence- many of these tiny towns did not have the formal education (which is to say, propaganda pushing) and political squeeze that the cities have, and illiteracy and separation from the cult were likely. People here were considered undesirable citizens, and not only that, but they were unlikely to take to Spit’s ideals. They were kept away from resources and either left to die at the hands of the hostile wildlife, or outright hunted down in the case of them developing revolutionary ideals. 

It was devastating to hear, and they must have seen the look on my face, because they reassured me quickly- the help I gave them was huge, not only with the scrap ghosts, but with the scraps themselves. They would be able to make new technology to help Backwash with them, and develop new devices to improve their lives- maybe even get internet or television this time around! I did my best to manage a smile and tell them that I certainly hoped so, and thanked them for the meal.

I stayed another night, and sold them the rest of my scraps in the morning at half price. The ones that hold knowledge of me being a god should contain monumentous power, and I hope that they help the town more than I could directly. 

I’ll find more. I’ll make more. It’s worth it to help these people.