The Mort Swamp

Directly north of the Golden Woods lies the Mort Swamp, a dank and cheerless expanse of black water, drowned trees and reed-choked pools. It is not large, particularly when compared with the great wildernesses of Warlderia, yet few who live nearby willingly approach its borders. Even on bright days a grey haze seems to hang over the marsh, and at night strange lights are sometimes reported moving amongst the dead trees. The swamp is, in fact, a surviving fragment of a land that no longer properly belongs in Warlderia.

During the extraordinary events now remembered as the Galsitanic Intrusion, the bard Galsitan Gresvurian attracted the attention of the Fey Queen through a performance of such beauty that she crossed from the fey realm of Anwyn into the mortal world. When she departed, she did not leave the world quite as she had found it. Parts of Harmonias were taken away and pieces of Anwyn were left in their place. Thus the Golden Woods of Anwyn appeared, while Morteisa, the lair and domain of a necromancer, simply vanished.

The Mort Swamp appears to be a tiny remnant of those former undead lands: a scrap of Morteisa that, whether through accident, stubborn magic or some darker cause, escaped the exchange. Little comes out of the swamp. For that reason, the inhabitants of the Golden Woods are largely content to leave it alone. There are no roads through it, no settlements upon its edge and little worth gathering that cannot be found somewhere considerably safer. Hunters give it a wide berth, woodsfolk teach children not to follow wounded animals into its reeds, and even experienced travellers generally prefer to add several miles to a journey rather than pass too close to its stagnant waters. Birds become noticeably scarcer near its boundary, while the trees gradually change from the living abundance of the Golden Woods into twisted, moss-covered things standing ankle-deep in dark water.

The contrast with Anwyn's woods is particularly unsettling. The Golden Woods are alive with fey magic: unpredictable, sometimes dangerous, but exuberantly alive. The Mort Swamp feels like precisely the opposite. Its stillness is not peaceful. Sounds seem muffled beneath its canopy, mist gathers without regard for the weather, and fallen trees decay only slowly in the black water. Those who linger near its borders sometimes describe the uncomfortable sensation that something amongst the reeds is watching them. Most importantly, the swamp is not empty. Things still lurk within it.

What they are is difficult to establish, because sensible folk do not go looking. There are occasional tales of pale figures standing motionless in distant pools, of bones shifting beneath apparently undisturbed mud, and of lights that resemble lanterns until a traveller follows them away from solid ground. Livestock occasionally disappears from neighbouring country, although whether the swamp is responsible for every missing animal attributed to it is doubtful. The Sisterhood of Anwyn watches the southern approaches but makes little effort to cleanse the place. Whatever remains within the Mort Swamp has shown little inclination to emerge in force, and disturbing an isolated remnant of an ancient necromantic domain merely to discover what sleeps there is regarded as questionable wisdom.

Even Dîmeril Laeghartha, Heryn of the Woods, is content for the old boundary to stand. The Golden Woods belong to the living. The Mort Swamp can keep its dead.

The Drowned Warden

Something old still walks beneath the black waters of the Mort Swamp. Known to the few locals who speak of it as the Drowned Warden, the creature resembles a tall, impossibly thin man dressed in the rotted remnants of armour and a long, waterlogged cloak. Its flesh has the grey-white colour of something submerged for many years, while reeds, moss and tiny white swamp flowers grow through the gaps in its ancient mail. One eye is an empty socket; the other burns with a dim green light. The Warden carries a long, badly corroded spear and wears about its neck an iron key upon a chain. Nobody knows what the key opens.

It is believed that the Drowned Warden once served the necromancer whose domain occupied these lands before the Galsitanic Intrusion. Whether it was a soldier, gaoler or merely some unfortunate victim subsequently raised into service has been forgotten. When Morteisa vanished and the Golden Woods appeared in its place, the Warden and whatever it had been commanded to guard were apparently left behind. Unfortunately, its orders remain.

The Drowned Warden spends most of its existence beneath the swamp. It does not need to breathe and may remain motionless under the mud for months or even years. Travellers can consequently pass quite close without ever knowing that it is there. It awakens when someone ventures too deeply into the Mort Swamp. The first warning is usually the sound of a chain dragging through water. The Warden does not immediately attack. Instead it follows intruders at a distance, appearing intermittently between trees or standing waist-deep in pools where moments before there was nothing. Those who turn back are generally permitted to leave. Those who continue are not.

When roused, the Warden can command the swamp around it. Dead hands thrust from the mud to seize ankles, drowned corpses briefly rise from pools, and thick reeds twist around legs and weapons. These lesser dead are not true independent undead; they collapse again when the Warden passes or is defeated. They are merely fragments of the old necromancy saturating the marsh, temporarily given purpose by its presence. The Warden itself is considerably harder to destroy than an ordinary corpse. Blades wound it and spells burn its ancient flesh, but while it stands in the waters of the Mort Swamp it slowly repairs itself, drawing strength from the lingering death-magic beneath the mire. Forcing it onto dry ground, or somehow separating it from the swamp, makes it far more vulnerable.

Despite its appearance, the creature is not mindlessly murderous. It never willingly leaves the Mort Swamp and does not pursue fleeing enemies beyond its borders. Nor does it attack those merely travelling around the marsh. It is guarding something. Deep within the swamp stands a low island upon which can still be seen the foundations of a black stone building. Most of the structure has sunk beneath the mire, leaving only a broken archway and several worn steps descending directly into dark water. The Drowned Warden allows nobody to approach it.

Some believe the ruins conceal a forgotten entrance to the vanished realm of Morteisa. Others say a necromancer's treasure lies below. The Sisterhood has suggested the considerably less enticing possibility that the Warden is not preventing people from entering at all. It may be preventing something underneath from getting out.

For the moment, Dîmeril Laeghartha has decreed that the mystery can remain unsolved. The Drowned Warden stays within the Mort Swamp, travellers stay outside it, and an arrangement that has worked for generations need not be disturbed merely to satisfy someone's curiosity. Adventurers, unfortunately, have never been particularly good at following such advice.