Rainoga

The Shadow Swamp festers as a nightmarish echo of the Vast Swamp, twisted by fell energies and rooted within the Shadowfell. Here, perpetual twilight smothers the land, casting a dim, gray pallor over gnarled cypress and stagnant pools. The swamp reeks of decay—its waters sluggish with black mire and clotted detritus, its air thick with the scent of mold and old blood. Shadows twist unnaturally, whispering half-formed thoughts and luring intruders astray. At its heart looms the Shadow Citadel, a warped reflection of a forgotten fortress, its obsidian spires crumbling yet alive with necrotic will. The Black Rift—an abyssal wound in the marsh—seeps pure darkness, drawing in both essence and sanity. Undead things stir in the muck, and cloaked wraiths glide between gnarled roots. The swamp is a cradle of secrets and sorrow, where time slips sideways and the dead never truly rest. Few who wander in return unchanged—if they return at all.

A twilight fog hangs over black, glassy waters broken by rotting trunks and thorn-choked islets. Pale, corpse-like trees reach upward with twisted limbs, their bark slick with shadow. The sky above is heavy and unmoving, dimly lit by a dying gray glow. In the distance, the silhouette of the Shadow Citadel rises like a broken tooth. All is silent save for the soft ripple of water—and the whispers beneath it.