Bone Grove
Stand on the banks of Aalunus, looking out over the mouth of the Agag river. Across from the city, there is no visible bank. The river bleeds into the land in the form of a mangrove swamp, with the water only gradually clearing up as you move north to the woods.
In other places, you might see canoes tied to the roots as locals use the area to hunt for turtles. Here, the roots are empty. Nobody approaches the trees just over the river. Then the tide goes out, and you see why.
For centuries, the city of Aalunus has used the swamp as a place of execution. Condemned criminals are taken across the river at low tide and lashed to the roots of the trees. Every limb is tied to a different root so that they lie spread-eagle against the cluster of roots. Torsos and necks are usually bound as well. Then, the condemned person is left there.
Over the course of the day, the tide will slowly come in and, eventually, cover the convict's head. This give's the criminal a long time to watch the water rise around them, flail at their bonds, or shout at spectators across the river (Assisting a condemned person is, of course, illegal). This is called the slow death. The fast death is when a crocodile, shark, or Crocodog arrive for a free meal. There is much debate, especially among the jail cells holding the condemned, about which is preferable.
The bodies of the executed are left where they area to serve as a warning for other prospective criminals in Aalunus. Over the ensuing weeks, the bodies are picked apart by scavengers and decay, and only skeletons remain, tangled in the roots. Those, too, eventually fall away and sink to the floor of the swamp, though some become permanently lodged in the roots and residents might go whole lifetimes not realizing that a certain section of roots is actually a moss-covered ribcage.
One particular skull got lodged in the roots quite close to the main market about 300 years ago. It sits upright, the top of its dome just visible at high tide. No one remembers who it was, but the popular story is that he was a serial killer. At nights of low tide, adventurous children dare each other to paddle across the estuary and touch the skull if they're not a big fat coward.
This is dangerous, not only because of crocodiles, but because the ghost of the vicious killer still lurks in the swamp, or so the stories say. He, and all the other damned souls left to rot in the grove, lurk forever among the dark, twisting roots of the swamp. If you dare to venture into the swamp, you just might feel a bony hand wrap around your ankle and then drag you down into the brackish water to stay with them for eternity. These ghosts absolutely exist - my cousin's girlfriend's brother saw one!
Type
Wetland / Swamp
Location under
