Baelmarsh

Baelmarsh
Spirit	Baelon
Significance	A land that remembers; what is lost is never truly gone.

Baelmarsh is not a land of conquest or wealth. It is a land of remnants—a place where nothing is truly lost, only waiting beneath the water, buried beneath the roots.  

Few come here willingly, and fewer still leave unchanged. Those who enter do so not for riches or power, but for answers, closure, or something long forgotten.  

Some seek the Half-Sunken Archive, a library whose ink shifts when read, revealing histories erased from time. Others follow the Hollow Procession, hoping to glimpse the faces of lost loved ones.  

The waters of the Mireglass Expanse do not reflect what is, but what was, drawing scholars, diviners, and the grieving to its shores.  

And some, desperate and reckless, seek out the Wraithroot Witches, offering their own memories in trade for knowledge, revenge, or secrets no mortal should know.  

Baelmarsh does not lure travelers with gold. It calls to those who cannot let go of the past.  

History

The history of Baelmarsh is not written—it is buried. Unlike other realms, whose pasts are shaped by war and conquest, Baelmarsh’s past is silent, sunken, and preserved beneath its waters.

Once, there were cities here. The marsh did not destroy them—it simply kept them. Some say the ruins belonged to an ancient kingdom whose name has been swallowed by time, its rulers and poets lost beneath the reeds. Others whisper that Baelmarsh was always as it is now—a place where what is forgotten lingers, waiting to be unearthed.

The deeper one goes, the more history is uncovered—not lost, merely waiting.

Geography

Baelmarsh stretches across the southwestern edge of the continent, bordered by the plains of Vaelthar to the east and the forests of Celyndor to the north. Unlike the shifting dunes of Zanarak, Baelmarsh does not change—it holds.

The land is a vast, stagnant expanse of sodden glades, flooded ruins, and still-black rivers whose waters seem to drink the light. Pale mists coil through ancient trees, clinging to broken watchtowers and temples long abandoned. Beneath the mire, entire settlements rest, undisturbed yet whole, as if waiting for the day they will be remembered.

Notable Landmarks

• The Drowned Wolds – Moss-covered stone ridges, rising like broken spines from the water. Some say they were once the walls of a forgotten city.
• The Mireglass Expanse – A still, mirror-like lake where reflections show not just the present, but glimpses of what once was.
• The Sable Flow – A black river that moves against the natural currents, as if drawn toward something unseen.
• The Weeping Hollows – Towering, ancient trees whose trunks have split open, trickling dark water. Some claim the trees remember names, whispering them into the wind.

Climate

Baelmarsh is heavy with moisture and heat, its air thick with mist and the scent of moss, earth, and still water. The seasons do not shift sharply—there is no true winter, only a colder wetness, no true summer, only a denser heat.

Rain is frequent, but never in torrents—a slow, steady fall, as if the sky itself weeps for something long forgotten. Fog coils through the marsh even on clear days, and at night, the land is awash in dim, bioluminescent glows from unseen sources.

Flora and fauna

Baelmarsh is filled with life that lingers, endures, and mutates in time.

Flora

• Lantern-Trees – Gnarled roots with pale, bioluminescent fungi, casting soft blue and violet light. They are never found in the same place twice.
• Veilvines – Long, whisper-thin vines that drift upon the water’s surface, curling around anything that lingers too long.
• Drownroot Blooms – Heavy-petaled flowers that grow from submerged ruins, their scent known to induce sleep or visions.

Fauna

• The Mirekin – Figures glimpsed at the water’s edge, watching but never seen approaching.
• Sable Eels – Ink-black, slow-moving eels that can grow as thick as tree trunks, their presence marked only by the absence of sound.
• Glass-Faced Stags – Creatures seen only when the mist is thickest, their antlers entwined with glowing moss, their faces like perfect mirrors. Those who gaze into them see themselves as they could have been—or as they never should be.

Native Sophants

Baelmarsh does not welcome outsiders, and few truly live within it. Those who do are not merely residents; they are part of the land itself, shaped by its endless memory.

The Lurathi – Keepers of the Unforgotten

The Lurathi are a strange and solemn people, their forms reminiscent of great, tusked beasts, their faces long and narrow, their curved tusks arching toward their foreheads like spirals of polished ivory. Their skin is thick, ridged like the roots of ancient trees, marked with lines that grow deeper with age, like the growth rings of a felled trunk.

No one knows when the Lurathi first came to Baelmarsh—perhaps they have always been here. They do not build cities, nor do they carve their names into stone. Instead, they carry their history within themselves, their memories passed down through word and ritual. It is said that a Lurathi never forgets, that they can recall the footsteps of their ancestors as clearly as their own.

They live in hollows of drowned trees, upon the ruins of cities long gone, tending to places that no longer have names. To them, nothing is lost—only waiting to be found again.

It is said that if you ask a Lurathi the name of a ruin, they can tell you not only what it was, but the color of its banners, the sound of its streets, and the words of the last prayer spoken within its walls.

The Siltborn – Those Who Linger

The Siltborn are not a people. They are a fate.

No one is born a Siltborn—they become.

There are those who enter Baelmarsh and forget to leave. Perhaps they linger too long in a place that remembers too much. Perhaps they listen to a whisper they should not have heard. Whatever the reason, the marsh claims them—not as corpses, but as something else.

A Siltborn does not decay. Their skin turns cold and gray, their eyes take on the milky sheen of waterlogged bone. They no longer hunger, nor do they tire. Their voices are soft and thick, as though spoken from beneath the water’s surface.

They do not attack, nor do they flee. They simply wander.

Some say the Siltborn are not truly aware—that they are shadows of the past, half-formed memories wearing flesh. Others claim they are still alive, just... stretched thin, caught between what was and what is.

It is said that a Siltborn can lead you to things thought lost—but at the cost of something you will not realize you have given.

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Notable settlements

Most who pass through Baelmarsh find only ruins—half-sunken villages, temples smothered in moss, roads leading nowhere. Yet some places still endure, not because they thrive, but because they have not yet been forgotten.

Blackwater Rest – The Wayfarer's Refuge

A settlement that should have drowned long ago, yet still stands, its buildings half-built atop the ruins of something older. Blackwater Rest is a waystation for those traveling through Baelmarsh, built upon wooden piers and the remnants of past lives. Its walkways are lined with lanterns that never go out, fueled by something other than oil.

Here, travelers trade stories rather than coin, exchanging what they know for the knowledge of others. The Lurathi pass through often, muttering forgotten names under their breath, while the occasional Siltborn lingers at the edge of the docks, listening but never speaking.

It is said that if you sleep in Blackwater Rest, you may dream of the past—not your own, but of someone who walked the same streets long before you.

Harrowmere – The Floating Village

Built upon clusters of vast, interwoven roots, Harrowmere drifts lazily across the mire, its movement dictated by forces unseen. It is home to the Lurathi, who do not anchor themselves to any single place. Instead, the village shifts as they will it, following the slow currents of history rather than the water.

Harrowmere is more shrine than village, its people tending to great carved stones depicting things that no longer exist—cities that have fallen, people who have vanished, prayers that were never answered. The Lurathi say that the moment Harrowmere stops moving, it will be claimed by the past, its purpose fulfilled, its memory fading into the marsh.

No one knows how long Harrowmere has drifted. Some say it has been there forever.

The Weeping Hold – The Unfinished Fortress

A fortress that was never completed, its walls half-built, its gates still awaiting their final ironwork. It should not exist—no records speak of its construction, no kingdom lays claim to its foundations. Yet the stone stands firm, untouched by time, as if frozen in the moment before it could serve its purpose.

At night, faint echoes ring through its empty halls—the hammering of unseen craftsmen, the murmurs of voices speaking plans that were never carried out. Some believe that if the Weeping Hold were ever finished, it would finally be allowed to crumble.

Yet none dare lay the final stone.

Dirgefen – The Silent Pilgrimage

A ruin, yet a city.

Dirgefen is drowned beneath the marsh, its towers rising like jagged bones from the black water. No one lives here, yet it is never empty—figures walk its flooded streets, their lanterns bobbing in the mist. They do not speak, nor do they acknowledge those who watch from afar.

The Lurathi claim they are pilgrims, returning to a city that refuses to be forgotten. Others believe they are echoes, memories retracing the same paths over and over, unable to break free from the past.

No one who has entered Dirgefen has ever been found again.

Cultural significance

Baelmarsh is a land of unanswered questions, a place where history is preserved but never explained. To scholars, it is a realm of forbidden knowledge—to mystics, a place where the past speaks.

Rituals and Beliefs

• The Still-Watch – At dusk, travelers stop moving, listening to the marsh as it echoes with distant voices.
• The Bone Offering – Some leave tokens of the dead in the marsh, believing that Baelon will keep their memories intact.

Mythology and legends

Baelmarsh is a place of lost things, and many who enter do so in search of something forgotten.

The Half-Sunken Archive

A drowned library, its halls hidden beneath the roots of an enormous tree. The books are preserved, but their ink shifts when read, revealing truths that were never meant to be remembered.

The Mouth of the Mire

A black chasm of still water, said to be the heart of Baelmarsh. No sound returns from its depths, and those who stare into it for too long claim to see figures watching from beneath the surface.

The Hollow Procession

A ghostly parade seen on rare mist-laden nights—figures in tattered finery, walking a path no one can follow. Some say they were kings and courtiers of a kingdom that never was.