Pog A Bog

An eerie stillness clings to the mire as shadowed wood sinks beneath the surface. Each step upon sodden earth a risk for traipsing with reckless abandon will no doubt spell one’s demise. Many have ventured here, just as many have been lost: swallowed whole by the bog to leave nary a trace of them. While any may attempt to traverse these lands, natives know best how to navigate the marsh. Nestled within is the Ritual Grounds, which is known for its mystique. Remnants litter the ground, those of the fallen resting alongside scattered trinkets beneath stones painted in a mixture of vibrant dyes and blood. These are the sacrificial offerings made in hopes to satiate the hunger of the Fae, and of those who dwell in shadows, an ever-looming threat to lace the tongues of natives as they issue warning to interlopers and kin alike. Never go alone. Should one hear the banshee’s call, it’s already too late.