The Endless Mire

The Realm of Pallis is avoided by the wise for it is overrun by the Endless Mire, a sentient biomass that exists only to expand and consume.

Once Pallis was a green and wondrous Realm rich in life and beauty. But its ruling Elnori, Ozaal, went mad as the Cataclysm erupted across Caenar and in his madness cast a glamour to ensnare the entire population of his city. He led them toward the swamp south of the city and together they marched into its foetid depths to drown. The people were aware of this but could not stop themselves and the final moments were horrific and anguished, tainted swamp water filling their lungs.

Perhaps it was some quirk of the Cataclysm that caused what happened next. Or maybe the collective grief and horror of the Elnorian's mad act. Whatever the reason, the Endless Mire was born that day. From the swamp rose the bodies of those thousands who had perished, consumed by the swamp now and become avatars of rot and decay. Ozaal himself rose amongst them, his own angelic form corrupted but still great. He became the Mire King and through death had found peace and purpose; to spread the Mire where there is no pain or suffering, to bring the peace of death to the living.

The Mire consumed Pallis entirely; an entire Realm given over to an endless swamp populated by moss covered wretches. Fortunately the Mire King is unable to spread beyond Pallis owing to the efforts of a small group of Elnori and mystics who saw the danger the Mire posed and created wards to prevent escape to those touched by it. The wards do not prevent travel to and from Pallis by those untouched by the Mire, only those it has infected. This has meant a steady stream of explorers and treasure hunters greedy and misguided enough to risk venturing into the Endless Mire in search of pre-Cataclysm relics. Few ever make the return trip for the Mire King is ever seeking more subjects.

Today, the Mire is a foetid and noisome place of endless swamp and bogland. The ruins of civilisation are consumed by moss and submerged in thick sucking mud. A dense fog that fills the lungs and brings nausea and exhaustion blankets the Realm and obscures the sun, rendering it pale and sickly even at its highest point. All is silent, save the faint rustle of leaves, the gentle slosh of water or the creak of trees. The denizens of this Realm are hidden, submerged beneath the surface, rising only when the living dare tread.