The evil things fled in terror and confusion, back into the dark places. She struggled, managing to shake her hood from her head, revealing her long golden hair.Īnd from it a brilliant light shone out in all directions, shocking the abominations. Despite her own predicament she wasn’t putting up with this. She could see that soon he would fall and they would be upon him.
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Nearby she spied a wretched traveller, lantern in hand, trying to make his way through the swamp, pursued by all manner of swamp creatures. She heard a terrified cry nearby – not of one of the nightmarish monstrosities but a human cry. It twisted like a snake, and in the blink of an eye it had wrapped itself around her wrists with a quick vicious, and very final sounding, snap. She breathed a sigh of relief just as the root moved in her hands. She reached out caught a root which fortunately held tight. The moon looked around panicked as she discerned the bogles gathering in, all around her.Īnd in her haste she slipped in the mud and fell. Cackling witches riding great black cats grinned horribly at her. The animated bodies of the dead rose from the waters, horribly gnarled and warped, with fire in the sockets of their skulls. For all around her were the things that lived in the swamp: a great red eye staring out of the darkness, the lanterns of the willow of the wisps. But nevertheless she pressed on.īut the things she made out in the darkness weren’t all tricks of the eye. In the darkness they appeared as frightening shapes and the moon was beginning to get a little scared.
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On she pressed, through the fen, all muddy grassy mounds, stagnant water, roots and fallen branches protruding out of the ground at strange angles. She shivered, looked around, pulled the black hooded cloak she wore around herself tighter.
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She took herself to the edge of one of the great inky black pools that make up much of the landscape and gazed into it. She looked around in wonder, took her first tentative steps. A true backwater, where travellers seldom frequented and inhabitants rarely left.Īnd yet, when one night the moon’s curiosity finally got the better of her and she decided that she wanted to walk the Earth, it was on the Carrland that she set down her shimmering feet. While today they have been much diminished by drainage in the past they were truly vast marshes, interspersed with the occasional small collection of houses and a few workable fields.Ī dangerous swampland far remote from the rest of English society. The Lincolnshire Carrs are a large area of wetlands in the east of England.