Those willing to risk rust chancre, greenspore, and a host of other more debilitating diseases may venture into parts of Black Marsh unmapped by the higher races. The few who can cope with swamp rot, fleshfly bites, and the constant palaver of unseen entities whooping, clicking, or simply lying in the murk waiting to slice teeth across your limbs may reach the innermost swamps. And the hardiest of Imperial explorers, who have no further need to prove their mettle after the following discovery, may gaze upon the Hist tree.