“The majority of diseases are caused by infestation with invisibly miniscule creatures. They are the essence of uncleanness. Keep track of what materials might have become infested, and avoid contact with them, to avoid disease.”
Sapa, August 757

A view of the fenlands from the edge of Bexgate on the morning of Sunday the 18th of October, 3914

Outside Bexgate lies nothing but empty fenland, broken only by the occasional copse. Nothing enters the town from the fenland but birdsong and fog. Entry into the fenland is strictly prohibited. Why would anyone need to do so, but to consort with demons or practice heresy out of sight of the faithful?

The residents of Bexgate need no wall or fence to tell them to remain within the town’s limits. Instead, the perimeter is lined with bollards, while pervasive CCTV cameras are more than enough to deter demons from entering.

From the edge of Bexgate, the remnants of the roads which once connected the town to the rest of the district can still be seen. They have long since been destroyed, demolished by explosives on the Government’s orders, and the wetland has reclaimed most of the rest. Telephone lines and the railway track are the only suggestion that there remains a world beyond Bexgate. In the distance lie the ruins of an abandoned hospital, often shrouded in mist.

The fate of the fenlands is an unresolved question. Some within Bexgate have taken to openly hoping that the increasing security of the town, in addition to its diminished importance, mean that the Government may grant permission for the fenland to be opened up to further development and free access.

• Nobody. No one lives here.