The Mire of Nix


“It was a place where the only illumination was like the the light from the sun filtered down through the depths of the sea, it was a place where the water was thick and the trees were bent and wounded.┬áThere are things that live there, stunted figures with skin like old scabs that sang at the feet of a faceless priest.”-Brian Foster

“O’er the midnight moorlands crying.
Thro’ the cypress forests sighing.
In the night-wind madly flying.
Hellish forms with streaming hair;
In the barren branches creaking.
By the stagnant swamp-pools speaking.
Past the shore-cliffs ever shrieking,
Damn’d demons of despair.”-‘Despair’ by HP Lovecraft