Rushmoors

The terrain of the Rushmoors is a mire of sedge-covered islets, muddy pools, twisting waterways, and rotting vegetation. Visibility is often limited by dense fog, while the air hangs thick with insects and the stink of decay.

• Frequent rain and high humidity make travel slow and grueling.
• Unmarked quicksand pits, concealed sinkholes, and foul runoff channels pose a constant threat to the unwary.
• Ancient half-sunken ruins, toppled menhirs, and moss-covered cairns occasionally rise from the mire—remnants of forgotten peoples or swallowed settlements.

Despite its dangers, the Rushmoors teem with life—both natural and supernatural.

The Rushmoors are infamous for their monstrous denizens. Some of the more common and feared inhabitants include:

• Black dragons, especially younger or solitary specimens, who make their lairs in the marsh’s drowned ruins or caverns beneath mossy knolls. They stalk the swamp’s canopy or lurk beneath its waters, ambushing travelers and rival predators.
• Otyughs thrive in the festering environment, lurking amid piles of decaying matter or garbage from ruined outposts.
• Lizardfolk tribes and other marsh-dwelling humanoids dwell in crude villages on stilts or floating reed platforms, often hostile to outsiders but occasionally willing to trade or ally with those who respect their ways.
• Will-o’-wisps, giant leeches, swamp hags, and even shambling mounds are whispered to haunt the deeper morasses.
• Some druids and witches are said to draw upon the primordial magic of the mire, though most locals view such figures with dread.

Although nearly impassable, the Rushmoors lie on the fringes of important realms and trade routes. Various border forts and watchtowers—often half-abandoned—dot the edges of the marsh, built to contain the spread of swamp threats or serve as launching points for adventurers and scouts.

Occasional attempts are made to drain or chart portions of the Rushmoors for mining or timbering, but these efforts are short-lived and often end in disaster.

The Rushmoors are a breeding ground not only for monstrous life but for myth and superstition:

• Some believe that ancient relics from Sueloise or Flan cultures lie buried in the muck, protected by magical wards or the lingering curses of their owners.
• Others tell of a sunken temple beneath the central marsh, dedicated to a forgotten god or demon, its halls now the domain of a monstrous broodmother or a dragon prince.
• More than one adventuring party has disappeared seeking lost riches in the Rushmoors—some say swallowed by the swamp, others claimed by darker forces.