A Local’s Guide to the Murk
"If you’re new to the Murk, you’d best watch your step. Not just because the streets are slick with swamp water and regret, but because someone, somewhere, is always watching. Life down here ain't fair, ain't clean, and sure as hell ain't safe. But it's home."
The Murk is the sunken, forgotten underbelly of Thallmurk, the part of the city where the desperate, the defiant, and the doomed find themselves washed ashore. Half-drowned streets, crumbling buildings, rickety boardwalks—this is a place where you either sink or swim. The rich and powerful up in the High Towers pretend the Murk doesn’t exist, except when they need cheap labor, stolen goods, or a convenient place to dump bodies.
But the Murk isn’t just a slum—it’s a battleground.
The Bogwardens say they keep order. The Shadecloaks say they fight for the people. Both have blood on their hands.And everyone else? Well, we just try to survive.
Life in the Murk
Life here is wet, cold, and short. The streets are partially flooded, the air is thick with rot and swamp gas, and the people? Tough, quiet, and suspicious.
Murkers aren’t the kind to trust easy—every silver coin here is fought for, every meal earned with bruises. There’s no safety net, no laws that actually protect us. You want justice? You take it yourself.
What makes someone a real Murker?
- You know how to swim—even if you’ve never had a lesson.
- You keep a weapon on you—because you don’t get second chances.
- You know who to bribe, who to avoid, and who’s got a knife waiting for your back.
If you were born here, you’ve likely seen friends disappear, debts turn deadly, and strangers dangling from the Mirewardens’ gallows. Maybe you’ve run with the Cloaks, taken Bogwarden coin, or fought to carve out a space of your own.
The Bogwardens: “Keepers of Order” or Just Another Gang?
"They call it law, but we know better. Ain’t about justice. Ain’t about safety. It’s about control."
The Bogwardens claim they protect the Murk, but everyone knows they’re just muscle for the High Towers. They don’t keep the peace, they make sure the right people stay afraid.
Meirion Dyffryn – The Highwarden of the Murk
A brute with a badge. Always has been a piece of work, now the law in the Murk. His right arm? A cursed piece of bogsteel, welded to his flesh after he lost the real one in a gang war.
- He don’t ask, he don’t negotiate—he takes. Bogwardens who don’t like his methods don’t last long.
- No one forgets what he did to The Smiling Reeds. Whole tavern burned down, everyone inside. And the “official report?” Accident.
The Mirewardens – Meirion’s Stormtroopers
- Not regular Bogwardens—these ones are worse. His hand-picked killers, pulled from the meanest, cruelest soldiers in Thallmurk.
- Blackened armor, no insignia—just a burning torch brand on their shoulders.
- If the Bogwardens rough you up, the Mirewardens make you disappear.
A Murker’s Take on the Bogwardens
- "You don’t go to them for help. You go to them when you’re ready to sell your soul."
- "Best case? They take your coin and do nothing. Worst case? They ‘solve’ your problem by making two more.“
- "You see a Mirewarden? You look down and walk the other way."
The Shadecloaks: Thieves or Saviors?
"If you ask the Bogwardens, the Shadecloaks are a pack of criminals. If you ask the High Towers, they’re worse—rebels. But if you ask me? Hell, maybe they’re the only ones looking out for the Murk at all."
The Shadecloaks run the black market, the smuggler routes, the safehouses—and yes, they steal. They rob the rich, bribe the guards, and undermine the High Towers. But lately? They’ve been doing more than just making money.
Gloom – The Masked Phantom of the Murk
- No one knows who they really are, but damn if they haven’t become a legend.
- Steals from the rich, arms the Murk, keeps the Bogwardens angry.
- Never kills unless they have to. Some say it’s a rule. Some say it’s just smart business.
- Half the Murk sees them as a hero, the other half says they’re just getting people killed.
A Murker’s Take on the Shadecloaks
- "Say what you want, but they feed people when no one else will."
- "Gloom’s playing a dangerous game. You don’t spit in the Highwarden’s eye and expect to live long."
- "I ain’t a thief. But I’d rather work for them than sell my soul to Meirion."
The Clash for the Murk
The Shadecloaks and the Bogwardens have always hated each other, but it’s worse now.
Why? Because Gloom isn’t just running a gang anymore. They’re running a movement.
Meirion wants them dead. And not just them—anyone who supports them.
The Mirewardens are raiding homes, “questioning” people, hanging anyone they think might be a Cloak.
And the Shadecloaks? They ain’t running. They’re fighting back.
What’s a Murker to Do?
If you live in the Murk, you’ve got choices to make.
- Do you side with the Shadecloaks, risk everything to stand against the Highwarden?
- Do you take Bogwarden coin, swallow your pride, and try to survive under Meirion’s rule?
- Or do you stay neutral, keep your head down, and pray the war doesn’t swallow you whole?
It ain’t easy. Maybe you’re a fighter, looking for a cause. Maybe you’re a smuggler, just trying to stay in business. Maybe you’re someone with a grudge—against Meirion, against the Cloaks, against the world itself.
But whatever you are, the Murk is changing.
And no one gets to sit out what’s coming.
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