The Mudpits in BREACH | World Anvil

The Mudpits

One more stabbie tells me "Hey, don't track mud in here!", there will be violence.
— Ben Kimura, BREACH dendrivulcanologist

A Relaxing Getaway

It probably was pretty nice, once. Why wouldn't it be? It was constructed to be nice, by a culture whose ability to construct things was on a scale that could not have been imagined, had there not been examples showing their power. It is less nice now.

The world is about 25 miles across, roughly circular. The outermost few miles consist of large, increasingly unclimbable, volcanic mountains, and the innermost portion is a single large volcano. The ring between them is a burbling field of hot mud, varying in depth from one to twenty feet generally, with a few places whose bottoms have not been found. At many points along the ring, there are ruined structures sticking up out of the mud, often at odd angles. Deep rader shows there were many smooth paths leading between the structures, around various deep areas, and out towards the mountains. The sky, a dome of unknown substance, seemingly impenetrable, shows a sun (a tad bluer than Sol) arcing through the sky, followed by two moons and sometimes, aurorae of green and purple hues.

Based on this, BREACH feels the world was originally a spa or other type of resort, with walkways leading between lodging and shops, connecting to many hot pools in which visitors could relax. The roads continue up some of the outer mountains, where they connect to pools of less-muddy hot water and empty, collapsing buildings that were likely more lodging or rest areas.

And something went wrong. The mud kept building up (precisely how the geology works here remains a mystery; it's artificial, but what causes or controls it, if it's due to still-functioning machines or to some sort of editing of the universe's physics, is entirely speculative), burying the complex. There's no evidence above the mudline of furnishings, tools, or other artifacts, just hollowed husks of buildings, their functions guessed at by analogy.

Life, But Not As We Know It

There's very little life here. Extremophile bacteria abound, and it seems they are responsible for maintaining the atmosphere, converting the various volcanic outgassings to sufficient oxygen. There's evidence of mutation, as they form colonies that are slowly devouring the remains of the buildings. The outer mountains were once forested, but the only living plants now are species of lichen, partially symbiotic with the aforementioned bacteria.

BREACH

Passing through the breach point lands you knee-deep in hot mud. Not injuriously hot, fortunately, but right at the edge of pain, depending on personal tolerances. BREACH agents known for complaining the showers at Conestoga Base are never hot enough will be fine.

A temporary work area has been set up on the upper floor of an only-slightly-tilting building near the breach, with a ceramic ladder providing access. (Metal and plastic ladders succumbed to the local life in a matter of weeks.) This is not considered a plum assignment, even for geologists; there's only so much pounding of head against a wall anyone can do. The bacteria do not live long outside this world, and the mud tends to crumble to dust in a few minutes; if this is by some ancient Precursor design or a kind of Destabilization effect is unknown. The most interesting work here is actually on the slopes, where the dead trees provide genetic material to compare to Baseline plants, and the lichen species' symbiosis with geothermic life is going to inevitably be some grad student's lifelong obsession.

World Type
Pocket World
Divergence
Unknown
Current Year
Unknown

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