Boiling Brook
highly acidic bog that hides the lair of Mithariax, Dengar Krand.
A narrow, winding stream where the water constantly bubbles and steams, though it is never truly hot. Some say it runs over a buried source of magic, while others claim it is the vein of a long-dead dragon, still exhaling its last breath. The brook’s banks are lined with strangely vibrant flowers, blooming even in winter, and the water is said to hasten healing—or steal years from those who drink too deeply.
The waters of Boiling Brook churn with an unnatural heat, their surface bubbling as if stirred by an unseen force. What should be a lifeline to the marsh is instead a festering wound, poisoned by the breath of a long-dead dragon. The acidic tide gnaws at the reeds, leaving their roots blackened and brittle. Jagged stones protrude from the depths like the teeth of some great beast, and any who dare wade too deep soon find their flesh stinging, their boots dissolving in the caustic flow. Somewhere beneath the brook’s relentless froth, the bones of Mithariax lie forgotten, her power leeching into the water, cursing it to forever seethe and fume.
A narrow, winding stream where the water constantly bubbles and steams, though it is never truly hot. Some say it runs over a buried source of magic, while others claim it is the vein of a long-dead dragon, still exhaling its last breath. The brook’s banks are lined with strangely vibrant flowers, blooming even in winter, and the water is said to hasten healing—or steal years from those who drink too deeply.
The waters of Boiling Brook churn with an unnatural heat, their surface bubbling as if stirred by an unseen force. What should be a lifeline to the marsh is instead a festering wound, poisoned by the breath of a long-dead dragon. The acidic tide gnaws at the reeds, leaving their roots blackened and brittle. Jagged stones protrude from the depths like the teeth of some great beast, and any who dare wade too deep soon find their flesh stinging, their boots dissolving in the caustic flow. Somewhere beneath the brook’s relentless froth, the bones of Mithariax lie forgotten, her power leeching into the water, cursing it to forever seethe and fume.
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