The Viridian Mere, Home of Old Black

A massive swamp to the south of the forest that houses the last elven city-states, the Viridian Mere was central in the founding of modern elven society. Today it is home to countless tribes of lizardfolk and hundreds of human villages. The Viridian Mere’s entire history is in the shadow of a great wyrm black dragon named Bastovexigarriv.

Geography, Flora, and Fauna

No accurate maps exist of the Viridian Mere, for the waterways and land patches shift and change so swiftly that any map is only moderately accurate for a week at most. Most maps feature the few stable dry patches of land and the various stilt villages.

     In addition to cattails and other swamp grasses, the most widespread plant in the Mere is a silver-green, fast growing wheat called viridian barley. The barley grows everywhere in the Mere, and is what gives it its name. When used for stouts, viridian barley produces a drink with a dry, sharp bite with a hint of smoke.

Elven Influences

Just after the Historical Wipe, when the elven city-states were growing in influence, scouts in the Viridian Mere ran into groups of reptilian humanoids larger than the kobolds they were familiar with. Later dubbed lizardfolk, these groups were soon discovered to be advance scouts for a much larger invasion force.

     Serving under serpentine masters, the lizardfolk armies threatened to crush the burgeoning elven city-states should they leave the mere. Thus, the elves utilized the ever-changing environment of the mere to their advantage, beginning a guerilla campaign against the much larger invading force. The war between the elves and the invading forces lasted for thirty years, before one battle was interrupted.

     Unbeknownst to any of the combatants, the battle was taking place above the lair of an adult black dragon. The sounds of battle echoed through the secret passageways leading to the lair, and woke the slumbering beast. The elves were the first to notice that something was amiss, and having already dealt a severe blow to the lizardfolk ranks ordered a full withdrawal. As the elves vanished into the fog, a bellowing roar ripped through the swamp, announcing the arrival of the black dragon Bastovexigarriv.

     From what the elves managed to learn afterwards, the dragon slaughtered the army then hunted down and ate the serpentine masters of the lizardfolk, bellowing and spitting acid the entire time. The lizardfolk army fractured, the survivors disappearing into the mere and forming tribes that continue to this day. In the aftermath, the elves formed an organization to patrol the mere and deal with any potential threats to elven society from the far end of the mere. Today, the Viridian Stalkers are primarily human, though a significant minority of elves remain.

     Historians attribute this war where the elves were outnumbered ten to one as the basis behind the elven military mindset of ambush and guerilla tactics. Few elves feel that the historians are wrong.

     In the centuries after the war, the elves began to gradually pull out of the mere as the lizardfolk seemed to be content with their small tribes and showed no inclination towards unification. As the elves pulled out, adventurous humans began to work their way in. Eventually, there were more humans than elves in the mere.

Humans in the Mere

Today the mere is largely populated with scattered human villages, the largest of which being Ebonmoor near the northern edge of the mere. Some villages are located on the few patches of land that don’t seem to sink below the water level as the waterways change. Most villages however are built on stilts embedded in the mire; high enough that they avoid weekly flooding, but low enough that their inhabitants can easily reach their paddle boats and canoes.

     The villages that are fortunate enough to be on solid ground tend to meager farms, but most provide for themselves through fishing and the single largest export from any region in the Green Coast: Old Black Stout.

     Made from the viridian barley that grows throughout the mere, a single person can fill their canoe with cut stalks in the span of an hour. The stalks are then toasted before turned into a dark beer that the locals named after the infamous dragon that lives somewhere in the swamp. Called Old Black Bastovex, the dragon has turned into a figure of cautionary tales told by parents to get children to behave.

     The closest thing to a government connecting all the humans of the Viridian Mere is the Viridian Stalkers. Though created by elves to keep an eye on the lizardfolk tribes after the early war, today it is close to ninety percent composed of humans. The Viridian Stalkers scout the mere for threats to the villages that most of them grew up in.

“Old Black Bastovex”

No human knows where the Viridian Mere’s oldest and most powerful native lives, but all that live in the swamp know of him. Some lizardfolk tribes revere the black dragon as a deity, serving it as kobolds do for other dragons in other parts of the world. A lazy old black, the dragon has the lizardfolk breed populations of his favorite food as their primary tribute: alligators.

     In addition to food, lizardfolk tribes also provide tribute in the form of goods and riches that they have stolen on raids. Some is discarded by the dragon when deemed to not be of interest. Occasionally some lucky traveler in the swamp will stumble across a cache of gold and attribute it to castoffs from the dragon. Bastovexigarriv dislikes the feel of gold on his scales, he much prefers the hardness of silver as it makes scratching hard to reach itches and parasites so much easier.

     The one tribute obtained in lizardfolk raids sure to meet the dragon’s approval is alcoholic drinks. The dragon is a connoisseur of alcoholic drinks, though his exact preferences for the type of drink tends to change century to century. His current drink of choice is stouts, and he is greatly amused by Old Black.

     Personality-wise, Bastovexigarriv is well aware of his years and occasionally gripes about feeling his age in his bones. Should outsiders stumble upon his lair and make it past the lizardfolk honor guard placed by the tribes that worship him, he would be more inclined to talk than fight. He is curious about the world outside the mere, though not enough to actually leave the easy life he currently enjoys, and trespassers can stave off death for hours or days by telling tales of the outside world.

Dangers of the Mere

Every inhabitant of the mere, human or otherwise, knows that outside of the villages and a few trade routes lurk dangers. An untold number of lizardfolk tribes live in the mere, as do a much smaller number of goblins. Spiders as large as bears call the dark parts of the swamp home. Leeches the size of cows squirm in the stagnant waters. Spectres that take the form of orbs of light draw unwary travelers deeper into the swamp.

     More than beasts or savage tribes, is the strange ambient magic that covers the mere. The various mages and those sensitive to magic that call the mere home describe it as fetid, like stagnant water. All the world has ambient magic, but something about the Viridian Mere makes the local magic do strange things. The dead of ancient battles can spontaneously rise from the muck, reenacting battles long since past until their memories are disturbed by the living. These undead hordes are regularly hunted down and eliminated by the Viridian Stalkers, yet every few months a new one arises.

     The greatest danger of the mere isn’t anything living or undead, it is navigation. Very few landmarks exist beyond the scope of the various villages, and even those that have spent their entire lives in the mere can easily become turned around and lost. Outsiders trying to navigate without a guide are considered suicidal by the inhabitants of the mere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you like my work and want to support me, check out my homebrew race book here.