Deadfall

Under the shaded boughs of Thornton's borders, deep in the undertangle, an ancient, broken branch hangs at an angle. Once upon a time, it had been a verdant branch, so thick with broad leaves that it barely support its own weight. No history hes recorded why exactly the branch died, but when it did it cracked and fell, trapping its lands in a dead, gloomy shroud. Rich kingdoms fell overnight. Sun-drenched lands turned to shadowy dead zones, trapping the inhabitants within. Over time, creatures of darkness and death took over and began to thrive. Rumor holds that unnatural and undead creatures such as vampires, ghouls, ghosts, and worse now rule the old keeps and cities.
Now, Deadfall exists as a dark reflection of its glorious past. Rolling meadows are now misty moors. Mighty mosswood trees are now bent and gnarled, rivers run black with tannins. Even the resplendent castles, once bustling hubs, now loom over the land like lurking beasts as they crumble.