Eirgsmoth was once known as the jewel of G’hul. The city whose port brought all sorts of denizens upon its cobbled streets, made its noble houses rich and opened the south to trade befell a horrible disaster. Some years ago the waters mysteriously receded and the earth shook, Eirgsmoth then settled into the sentiment left by the catastrophe. Now surrounded in a quagmire the township rots from marsh beyond the walls as well as the corruption of a desperate once prosperous people.
In times like these, the populace looks to deities for relief or noble houses for aid distressed by the knowledge that their lot is in ruin. Cults have riddled the streets with the madness of forgotten gods and the entitled have taken to fighting over the scraps of a decaying corpse. The corrupt are rewarded and the vicious make headway. Only the underworld flourishes.
Eirgsmoth feeds upon her children.