The Miremoth is the lurking horror of the Surface’s marshes — the swamp’s apex predator.
Speed 75% · Health 200%Favorite foods:
A Miremoth is humanoid only in the loosest sense: arms, legs, and something that might be called a head, with little else of a person about it. Its hide is the green of algae, with plants and mushrooms growing freely out of it, and its arms are massive and long out of all proportion to the rest. A Miremoth that does not move is nothing more than a hummock of swamp — and they are very, very good at not moving, holding perfectly still for days at a stretch. It hunts by patience, creeping toward its prey by inches until the long arms shoot out to seize, strangle, and devour. Up close, that grip is lethal.
It cannot run. A Miremoth has no burst of speed to chase down prey that bolts; its entire hunt depends on closing unseen. Keep moving, stay clear of the deep reeds, and never let one drift within arm’s reach, and you are in little danger. Away from the wet, tangled cover of the marsh, its camouflage is worth far less.
The Miremoth are believed to be ancient — as old as the Aelfar, from an era before the old world entirely, and they survived every age since the same way they hunt: by being overlooked. Whether anything thinks behind that approximate head, no one knows. None has ever communicated with one, and whatever passes there has kept its own counsel since before the cities rose.