Punampu, who’s inhabitants call it the Anciently Dignified and Resplendently Aged City of the Punampu, was originally a very large and splendid city, the capitol of a forgotten kingdom, which, in age, has declined to a somewhat less grand state.
Punampu lies in the midst of a vast, foetid swamp, the home of strange alien vegetation, foul airs, and a most unpleasant group of semi-human raiders who call themselves the Frog Lords. Trade in and out of the city is facilitated by a raised causeway that leads to the edges of the swamp, where it joins more conventional routes. This causeway, like much of Punampu is now fallen into disrepair- after all, if nobody comes down the way, what is the point in fixing it?
Punampu’s character is now grown squat, grey, and decayed, much like that of its inbred population. The city looms upon a low mound (called the Mound of KhrQu after a long-forgotten hero), built of ancient, hexagonal blocks of stone. The walls are crumbling and were long ago stripped of the splendid painted murals of its elder years; the ancient domes and spires, collapsing and filthy with bird-dung and fungus, are barely visible above these cyclopean edifices. The main gates of Punampu are missing, but as any Punampuni will tell you, they were made of solid gold and studded with jewels the size of a fist. Punampuni maintain the rather insane belief that Punampu will someday be restored to glory.
The streets of Punampu are winding and narrow; the grey and mossy ancient structures of the town overhang them like leaning corpses, gutted of all innards. The Punampuni dwell in the remnants of these great halls, huge vaults, towers, domes, and ruined palaces, gleaning a living from scraped moss, fish from the marshy pools in the foundation of the city, and bits of ancient baubles found in the dust, which they trade to each other in attempt to get more than the common share; invariably, this fails.
In the center of the city is the monumental megalithic Fortress of Qhesh. This impossibly ancient, cube-shaped structure was fashioned from some gleaming black stone, so smooth that the fingers skid from it, and no mark can be made. There is a deep pit that encloses the Fortress, and none have entered it in the memory of the Punampuni.
Punampu’s mound is slowly sinking into the marsh below it, and every day, the foundations of the city gain more and more water. In some of the lower regions, one can find marshy ponds in the smashed pavement and dirt thoroughfares, and strange marsh beasts sometimes roam the alleys, among darker things which climb from the endless catacombs beneath the city.