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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Creamsteak" data-source="post: 4102313" data-attributes="member: 552">After just a few more miles of travel, your group edges their way into the Blackfens. The swamps here are overflowing with the kind of life that likes stagnant water. Plants, fungi, moss, misquitoes, lizards of all sorts, and the occational stirge populate the swamp. The place also smells quite a bit like sulfur and rot.A mile into the swamp, you come upon a shocking sight.A low, mossy island of mud and peat protrudes from the marsh waters ahead. Two gnarled trees grow fitfully on the rugged ground, and sprawled across their turgid roots is the ruined and bloody remains of a horse sized owl. The once-magnificent bird's body has been partially dissolved in places, and swaths of foul, dark green fluid still sizzle and pop, eating away at exposed flesh and bone.</blockquote>