Slime-ridden and stinking, Castle Lake lies still and stagnant at the center of Grimly Wood. The ink-black shores ebb with a sort of cold coagulation that defies the laws of nature, though at its deepest point the waters are unnaturally clear, and visibility on moonlit nights betray a lake teeming with cruel and ravenous life. This oddity is referred to by locals as Peeky Bottom.
Castle Lake is named for the ruined castle, which chilly waters ring like a moat. There is no drawbridge, and the lone rope-hauler dinghy along the empty banks has no sign of pilot or service for decades. Only two of the castle’s mighty towers remain completely intact, while the rest lean on the brink of collapse in the sinking mud of the lake’s bottom. The shoddy foundations moan and clay shingles clatter from the sunken rooftops, unsettling the demonic variant of koi fish that school through the currentless darkness yearning for the souls of men.
Rumor has it, an old and tired king still dwells within the great halls of the island fortress, bound to its tall ceilinged ballrooms and shadowy corridors by madness and misery.