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Svartby
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Morbid Quag
Far, far
Dark might has spread
Claimed the ancient forests
Weak, small
Razed hamlets
Left in desolation
What's beyond
The city walls
Ain't an easy target
Morbid scab
Of townsfolk
Reeks with human stench
Marshland
Spread around the walls
Witches
Bane the creatures of the swamp,
Swamp
Toads, sludge
Willows, moss
Sweet and wet smell of rot
Go for it,
Accept the swamp
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Quag's your next-door pal now
Green, yellow
Glaring eyes
Staring through mire fog
Muffled songs
Of slime and ooze
Slurped and whispered from the bog
Twisted
Gene pools
Molding flesh and herb
Raising
Dead bodies
From the grounds of glory
Mutated
Monsters creep
Greet new snouts and faces
Quaggy grounds
Instead of fields
Not a playground anymore
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