Pining Away

Another random piece of geography for people to correct my errors on. :) As someone who is from New Jersey, it's always one of the my favorite places to destroy.

The Blighted Woods
South-Central New Jersey was always a small patch of wilderness in the midst of suburban sprawl. The area was worthless for development, and ultimately attained value as a nature preserve. In 2020, it remained so, with the only commercial use being collection of rare or exotic plants to test for useful sequences of DNA. On Arith, the same region was similarly empty of settlement, and was a place where bandits, outlaws, and other such types fled to hide from encroaching justice. Autumn Druids were known to practice dark rituals there, and the places where failed towns lay in ruin were regarded as unhallowed sites prone to undead or worse.

In 2020 (or 0PC), a nuclear missile targeted at New York City veered sharply off course, landing squarely in the center of the Pine Barrens. A worldhole was created there, and the region transformed. Today (2040/20PC), the area is a twisted and warped place, a realm which is, according to some, trapped halfway between the material plane and the shadow plane. It is a dark and forboding zone, monster haunted and evil. As with much of the rest of the Eastern Seaboard, the region is now an archipelago, part of the so-called Shattered Coast, but the waters surrounding the islands are shallow and choked with black, acidic seaweed, causing some to call the region the Sargasso of Shadows. Shipwrecks exist in many places just below the surface, providing additional hazards to navigation, and in many cases, they are filled with the zombies or shadows of their drowned crews.

It is never daylight. At high noon, the Blighted Woods are still cloaked in misty twilight, and most of the time, the place is just black. Light, even magical light, is swallowed by the gloom; it is impossible for those without darkvision to see more than thirty feet ahead. The place is filled with constant noise -- trees swaying and creaking without wind to move them, the chittering of strange insects, the mournful cries of alien birds. Where the ground is not swamp or mire, it is covered in a foot-thick layer of dead leaves, fallen branches, and the like; this undergrowth constantly shifts and moves as the things which dwell beneath it seek prey.

The worldhole region, occupying about a one mile radius from the blast point, is different. Here, all is barren; dead, leafless trees form black shapes against an eternally grey sky. Nothing solid seems to live here, but shadowbeasts of all description flit from here to there, winking in and out of reality. Dire cold is constant, and fires flicker and die unless they are magically sustained.

There are no normal communities or holdfasts in the Blighted Woods. Nor do any normal, mortal, creatures live there for long, unless they are very powerful and very strange. One local power is Nergiaphen Of The Black Scar, a being rumored to be a druidic lich, who has taken over a twisted grove near to the worldhole and is practicing bleak arts. A few creatures who were dwelling in the woods when the blast struck have been transformed; a gang of bandits known as Martin's Marauders has been transformed into dread shadows, and they are known to ride and raid on moonless nights.

The place is also home to a Chancery of the Seelie Court, one of the largest on the Shattered Coast.

Many of the shadow beasts created in the Blighted Woods have roamed outwards, becoming a persistent threat to travelers and outlying farms.