DOMINION CAMPAIGN

Settled partly within the haunted wooded swamps of the Mukly Boglands and the rocky shoreline, the burgh of Muklywaters is a place of both superstition and survival. It has no proper port or docks; instead, boats anchor offshore, and their crews row to the shore, braving the shifting tides and eerie mists. The settlement thrives on the constant stream of sailors and travelers who stop here to visit the Shrine of Omanus, a revered site dedicated to the god of the sea. Superstition demands an offering of gold and bloodwine at the shrine, with the belief that such tribute ensures safe passage and fortune on the seas.

The shrine itself, built on a rocky outcrop offshore, is a weathered structure, visible from nearly anywhere in the town. Its silhouette dominates the horizon, a constant reminder of the burgh’s reliance on the sea and the devotion of those who sail it. Rowboats ferry crews to the shrine under the watchful eyes of its priests, while the waters around it glisten red with spilled bloodwine.

Muklywaters is ruled by the Wine Merchants Guild, a wealthy and cunning class who have built their fortunes selling their coveted bloodwine to superstitious sailors. These merchants operate from opulent stone buildings while most of the population dwell in swamp shacks throughout the boglands, Beneath their rule, the burgh thrives, albeit under the shadow of the haunted bog woods, which looms menacingly over its swampy districts. Few venture deep into the woods, save for those desperate enough to seek the fabled riches hidden within or fleeing debts owed to the merchants.

The Quartermasters ensure the smooth flow of goods and supplies between the ships and the docks, while hirelings and stowaways eke out a living on the edges, assisting crews or hiding aboard vessels bound for distant lands. The burgh’s survival depends on its resourcefulness, with makeshift workshops crafting tools and repairing boats from salvaged materials.

Muklywaters is a chaotic blend of swampy paths, rickety boardwalks, and rugged stone streets. The air is thick with the scent of salt and wine, punctuated by the muffled whispers of haunted tales. For the sailors and merchants who pass through, it is a place of both reverence and indulgence, where fortunes are spent as quickly as prayers are uttered.