Troll Fens
Tucked between the forbidding flanks of the Griff Mountains and the Rakers, near the headwaters of the Yol River, sprawls one of the most inhospitable regions in all the Flanaess: the Troll Fens. Shrouded in perpetual chill and shifting mists, this dreary expanse of bogs, brackish pools, and sunken copses is as hostile to civilization as it is alluring to the desperate and the damned.
The Troll Fens are not merely a swamp—they are a grievance upon the world, a place of lurking malice and unnatural endurance. The trolls that thrive there are only the outer shell of its dangers. Beneath the muck lies something deeper, older, and perhaps not entirely of this world. It is a land that consumes the brave and corrupts the bold, where even light and direction cannot be trusted.
Geography
The Troll Fens occupy a remote and uneven basin where runoff from mountain snowmelt seeps into the lowlands. The ground is spongy and unreliable, often giving way to sucking mud pits or stagnant sinkholes. Twisted stands of swamp-willow and half-dead pine dot the mire, their branches dripping with foul moss.
- Mists swirl constantly over the land, veiling distances and muffling sound.
- Freezing rains and clinging fog are common, and snow may fall even in late spring.
- The Yol River, still young and narrow here, cuts a slow, meandering path through the fens, offering little in the way of navigable water.
The weather and terrain combine to make the Troll Fens nearly impossible to map or traverse with any certainty.
While largely avoided, the Troll Fens sit at a strategic juncture between the northwestern mountains and the central plains. Armies have tried to cross them—none successfully. The area is rich in minerals, medicinal herbs, and ancient magical remnants, but few can harvest them and live.
Occasional expeditions from Ratik, Stonehold, or even the Pale have tried to probe its secrets or tame a path through it. Most vanish.
Fauna & Flora
True to their name, the Troll Fens are overrun with trolls of every variety: swamp trolls, two-headed trolls, and even stranger offshoots that seem to have bred with other fell things from the depths. These creatures have adapted to the cold and wet, emerging from the muck to ambush travelers, fight for dominance, or scavenge carrion.
But trolls are only the beginning.
- Giant leeches, venomous serpents, and carnivorous plants are known to lurk beneath the surface.
- Will-o’-wisps, drawn to fear and suffering, drift through the mists, leading the unwary to death.
- Ruins of forgotten peoples occasionally break the surface—mossy stones, ancient pylons, or partially submerged cairns—hinting at a long-lost civilization that vanished without record.
- Whispers in the fog speak of a greater evil: perhaps a hidden cult, a slumbering horror, or the remains of a corrupted demigod whose influence still festers beneath the bog.
Even seasoned rangers avoid the region, for the Fens are not merely dangerous—they are cursed in a way that seems to defy natural law.
History
Among northern tribes and mountainfolk, stories of the Troll Fens are shared around firepits and hearths:
- "The Mire-King" – A titanic, intelligent troll said to dwell in a sunken temple, commanding lesser trolls with unnatural cunning.
- "The Lantern Bride" – A glowing spirit who lures wanderers with a mournful song; those who follow her vanish forever.
- "The Green Maw" – A sinkhole said to be alive, filled with acid and writhing vines, into which even trolls fear to fall.
Some say the fens move at night, rearranging themselves like a great breathing organism, ever-hungry and hateful.
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