When beyond the walls of the keep, it's bright braziers faded into the umbral gloom of this place, a torch is traditionally the only source of light; that is, the only source of light beyond the demented shadows cast by the lunae light. A light in the darkness often attracts unexpected guests, even in places not so cursed...
The moths of this place are not the most wholesome of creatures, when no torch is lit they can be found around the sickly fungi of this place. Their fluttering wings casting pale shadows in the glow of baleful mushrooms; often whipping spores into a small cloud about themselves.
These clouds of luminous spores often coat the wings of whisper moths; one particular strain induces sharp hallucinations of a voice whispering just beyond hearing. When a torch is carried near to such a patch of fungi, it often ends up swamped by shadowy, pestilence baring wings. Those who hear the voice born of those flitting wings, rarely remain sane for long.