The Moritius swamp. A land that most people dreaded, and preferred to steer away from. But those who didn't, those who had what some might call 'courage', or others might call 'no brains', those who dared venture into the swamp, they seldom came back… And when they did, they were never the same. Things unspoken of, dangers that strike fear into the hearts of the most courageous lie in these lands, and rumors spread quickly.
Many that live on the outskirts of the swamp in the South have reported strange beings; some with many tentacles hidden on the marshes, others that come in swarms and have horrible venom, or plants that feed on flesh of those that dare come into the swamp. There was a rumor, one that people seldom spoke of, of a tall man that lives in the waters. It was true, but he was now moving away; he was leaving for a short while.
The green, reptilian figure swam north, upstream, the top of his head slightly above the water, just enough for his eyes to break the surface. People could easily mistaken him for a log or a plant floating in the water, if he wasn't moving upstream, of course. The reptile was making for the Vilpamolan. He was tired and decided to rest, so he rose from the water and prepared to make camp.
His scales were smooth yet hard, and were a shade of murky green. His hair was long, sleek, oily-black, and reached a few centimeters below his shoulder. His head was that of a crocodile, and so were his eyes, and around his waist he wore a shendyt, in his hand a long, silver grey staff. He reached over and pulled down some vines off a tree and tossed them to the spot where his camp would be.
