A vast peat bog, named the Skins, spreads out to all sides, extending inland for miles. Tiny islands crowded with trees and underbrush struggle out of the mire, home to flocks of black birds whose warbles send chills through all who hear them. The mists and foul waters hide many dangers.
Tentacled monsters skulk in the misty fens, competing with ghoul packs for fresh meat. Hags, wraiths, vine horrors, and other vicious things emerge from the noxious soup to snatch the unwary. A few dark ones ply the Skins as ferrymen. For the price of 5 gold coins, they carry travellers from the bog’s landward borders to the steep black walls of the city. Whether through sorcery or a pact with the beasts of the moor, the dark ones bring their cargo to the city with little trouble.