Morwa's Den

Pumping your legs furiously as you try to run through the grasping mud and muck of the Highbog you get a small burst of hope as you spy a patch of (mostly) dry land ahead, covered in a thick tangle of old cypress and willow trees. You burst into the underbrush and move through the trees, while the growing noise of inhuman croaks of the bullywug tribe pursuing you tells you they have not given up the chase. If only you had just left the golden idol alone, maybe the tribe would not have been so angry at your intrusion.

Breathing is gasps now, your lungs struggling against the humid air of the Hagmarsh, you crash through the trees and, in the near distance, you spy something by a great fallen willow tree.

The roots of the tree seem to partially conceal an earthen cave or tunnel that looks like it leads beneath the island. Crouching down by the cave mouth, apparently trying to stay hidden from the approaching bullywugs is a wild-looking eladrin girl, her young face just visible beneath a tangle of golden hair.

The girl waves at you urgently, beckoning you to follow her into the tunnel. With the menacing croaking growing louder behind you, you make your decision quickly and dive down into the hole.

The tunnel opens up into a wider cave. The ceiling is low, making it necessary for you to duck if you don’t want to hit your head. The ceiling and walls are the same packed wet earth of the tunnel and roots from the trees above protrude here and there.

Several small lanterns, no bigger than your hand, hang from roots around the cave illuminating what must be this young girl’s home. Wooden planks, maybe driftwood from wrecked boats, have been spread unevenly all around the cave floor to provide a dry place to walk or sit. An old bed frame, perhaps at one time ornate, sits it one corner, covered in leaves and moss as opposed to a proper mattress. Trinkets and items of salvage are scattered about the room, and an old ship’s wheel hangs on one wall.

Smiling brightly, the young girl welcomes you to her home, reassuring you that the bullywugs will not be able to find you here. Stopping to catch your breath for the first time all day, you lean against a wall and slide down to sit, while the girl – Morwa she says is her name – fetches you some hot tea from a bubbling kettle on a small fire in one corner while small winged sprites – Morwa calls them her ‘helpers’ – bring you a dry blanket and help you slip out of your armour.

Morwa, with a child’s curiosity, asks you many questions about your adventures and how you came to the Hagmarsh, and after a while you start to relax. Your eyelids start to get heavy and, as the sweet smell of tea and the buzzing of Morwa’s helpers flitting about sends you drifiting off to a much needed sleep, the last thing you see is Morwa watching you, smiling…


Balasaar, Alister, Nobody, and Oris found Morwa and her home under the willow tree while desperately fleeing Grimfrost in the wake of their destruction of the portal to Tytherion beneath Thygard Keep, and the battle at the portal where they slew Grimfrosts’ mate, Skytherax.

Morwa and her helpers welcomed the weary adventurers with open arms, offering them a dry, safe place to eat and rest. Their weariness getting the better of their judgement, the party soon drifted off to sleep.

Morwa and her ‘helpers’ – in truth a swarm of umbral sprites – attacked the heroes as they slept. Morwa was anxious to indulge her appetites and devour the party, leaving the scraps and bones for her helpers.

Taken by surprise, the adventurers barely survived the encounter. Though they slew Morwa, they were wounded grievously and would have fallen to the swarming sprites had not Harlan Wavebreaker and the crew of the Howling Maid come to their rescue.

Morwa was, they would come to learn later, one of the three sisters of the Hagmarsh. They would meet the other two, Mab and Morag, when they later returned to the swamp to recover the spear Wyrmbreaker, which they had been forced to abandon when fleeing Morwa’s Den.


Morwa's Den

Streets of Liberty - Snowfall ErikWaddell