The sixth century texts called it Séipéal an Nádúir, claiming it to be the birthplace of no less than three Saints whose miracles all related to plant growth and causing all manner of trees to bear fruit in winter. Though it was officially just another Irish legend, it did in fact exist and all three saints were at rest deep beneath it.
A team of hikers found it accidentally while waiting out a storm at a cave that turned out to be its entrance. They discovered the writing first, following the lines of text to the remains of an old wooden door and beyond it the very tips of a grand cathedral's spires, the rest sitting far below them in a pit that was later confirmed to have been man-made.
Every inch of the building was covered in thick moss, all being fed from a single underground waterfall that gently misted it at all times. There was a great deal of confusion about why the texts had only hinted at the existence of Séipéal an Nádúir until the three alleged Saints were found inside.
The moss was an aggressive sort, the only one of its kind and confined within the cave by its need for constant dampness, the rest of the cave system being mostly basalt with drainage holes drilled in several key locations to maintain its dryness.
When in its preferred conditions the moss will quickly cling to anything - organic or otherwise - in order to spread. It absorbed whatever it could take as moisture, be it water, sweat or blood, as the hiking group soon found out.
The human remains inside were almost frozen in the moss, contorted and in the process of running away. Their arms were outstretched for help that either never came or chose to abandon them in favour of their own survival, choosing to remember the three in legend and pretend they caused the moss to grow upon themselves as an act of faith rather than nature doing its best to survive.
The hikers were lucky enough to only lose one person to the moss - a fool who decided to pat the moss and test how springy it was, only to find their hand stuck fast and utterly numb. As the numbness spread, so too did a faint green tinge to their skin and a series of bumps beneath their skin that writhed and burst through as the moss travelled throughout the poor bastard's body.
His companions fled, taking photos as they went and praying there was no moss on their skin but not checking the soles of their boots until they were a mile or so away, glancing back to see their footprints clearly outlined in the muddy ground, in the same lush moss that had by that point totally consumed their friend and was now working its was across the countryside.
A team of hikers found it accidentally while waiting out a storm at a cave that turned out to be its entrance. They discovered the writing first, following the lines of text to the remains of an old wooden door and beyond it the very tips of a grand cathedral's spires, the rest sitting far below them in a pit that was later confirmed to have been man-made.
Every inch of the building was covered in thick moss, all being fed from a single underground waterfall that gently misted it at all times. There was a great deal of confusion about why the texts had only hinted at the existence of Séipéal an Nádúir until the three alleged Saints were found inside.
The moss was an aggressive sort, the only one of its kind and confined within the cave by its need for constant dampness, the rest of the cave system being mostly basalt with drainage holes drilled in several key locations to maintain its dryness.
When in its preferred conditions the moss will quickly cling to anything - organic or otherwise - in order to spread. It absorbed whatever it could take as moisture, be it water, sweat or blood, as the hiking group soon found out.
The human remains inside were almost frozen in the moss, contorted and in the process of running away. Their arms were outstretched for help that either never came or chose to abandon them in favour of their own survival, choosing to remember the three in legend and pretend they caused the moss to grow upon themselves as an act of faith rather than nature doing its best to survive.
The hikers were lucky enough to only lose one person to the moss - a fool who decided to pat the moss and test how springy it was, only to find their hand stuck fast and utterly numb. As the numbness spread, so too did a faint green tinge to their skin and a series of bumps beneath their skin that writhed and burst through as the moss travelled throughout the poor bastard's body.
His companions fled, taking photos as they went and praying there was no moss on their skin but not checking the soles of their boots until they were a mile or so away, glancing back to see their footprints clearly outlined in the muddy ground, in the same lush moss that had by that point totally consumed their friend and was now working its was across the countryside.
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