As the name suggests, the Gray Fenns is a vast colorless bog. The very pigment of things has been drained along with any form of life. No birds sing, frogs croak. Stunted, broken trees dot the landscape. A cloud of despair hangs over the Fenns, palatable to any who dare enter. Deep within heart of the Gray Fenns a faint glow resonates, a huge willow-the-wisp leading travellers to their doom. But, through it all, a great power fills the air. And where such places exist, so do the prospects for adventure and glory.
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