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The unnatural mist clings around with every step through the marshy lands, blocking vision and deadening sound, threatening to isolate any from their party to untold ends. All manner of foul creatures are rumoured to lay in wait in the murky depths of this place, needing only water enough to cover them, and fools enough to keep their maws full.
Like a barbarous horde of spears the bare pines pierce upwards, attempting to break the cloying fog, yet each falling short. Nonetheless, if any attempt for finding passage from this dank place is to be made, a venture to their tops may yet bring some illumination from the sun, and with it a direction outwards.
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