The infamous bog of the blighted woods
The rolling mists and fogs of the boglands do wonders in hiding the eerie footfalls and treacherous waters of the Moores. Thick mosses cling to gnarled twisted trees that reach skyward, dulling out the sun and light from above. The whole area is cast in a murky light, filtered through a deep lens of yellows and greens. During the day the area might be said to be peaceful, with the croak and hum of marsh life. At night the area is dark and even more difficult to traverse. Moving through the area must be done with care, waters can range to shallow foot deep crevices all the way to sink holes that could easily swallow a man on horse back. Some mosses have adapted to grow with stability over water, making solid ground appear to continue over treacherously deep flooded burrows. Stepping on one of these mossy outcroppings is sure to send the unwitting traveler down into the murky depths bellow. It is also said that, day or night, one can have the distinct feeling that they are being watched, travelers do wonder if there is any credence to this or if it is only superstition.
The land of the Morass is thick and teaming with life. Serpents, reptiles, amphibians and a large array of insects call this area home. Larger prey and predators are drawn to the area for the lushness of the mosses within, though they often frequent the more shallow areas. Life towards the center of the woods becomes more still and elusive. It is unknown if something large prowls the area. The sounds of life do quickly tapper off, still enough that one could hear a whispered death rattle at 50 yards.
By nature of the land itself, or perhaps something more arcane, the area is always bathed in rolling mists and fogs. Some are fine mists that would dampen anything that moves through them, other fogs are so thick one can barely see their nose in front of their face. With limited visibility, it is recommended to take great care moving about. A cry for help can be equally as unhelpful, as sound tends to not travel well in the heavily misted areas.
Monument to Geffrai
In the year 115, the mage Geffrai "Champion of the Silver Staff" lead a large contingency of warriors to the Blighted woods to battle the evil dwelling within. For a fortnight he and his men battled, pushing the enemy back with dire cost. Geffrai was able to retreat the enemy until what is now known as Geffrai's Morass, where unfortunately he and his men met their fate. The remains of the great mage were never recovered but the evil that haunted the woods retreated due to their efforts. It is said that for a score of a hundred years or more the valiant dead guarded the wood, though the creeping unease has begun to return. A monument was built to Geffrai and his men at the site and still stands to this day. The few travelers brave enough to visit the moment have, in growing number, failed to return. Whispers continue to rise that the ancient evil has returned, spreading the tendrils of its maleficence about the shrine in mocking to the failed efforts of those who gave their lives to the endeavours. Regrettably, no one has yet returned with more than the feelings of unease, or stories of the missing in the fog.
Previously, although treacherous, the area attracted the young and the reckless to the banks of the great wood. With the growing feeling of corruption within, it is certainly not a welcoming place beyond those who wish to enter, and never return.
"Too dangerous to go there now.... the evil had a little nappy nap, and now its back" -Carl Carleson of the Capetown Court Cartographers.
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