A gentle hillside, mottled with wiry, strange trees with an eternal fog blanketing the area, these hills remain obscured from their true form. Its damp, pillowy moss and lichens hug exposed rockfaces, ancient trodden pathways seem to wind in indescribable ways, leading to nowhere. The soil is rich. There is a deep ever present smell of petrichor, soft woods, and distant leaf litter. A retreat from some Rhaigon, and fear inducing for others. Many individuals say they see an obscured figure leading them deeper into the mist. 

In an isolated forest grove lies a collection of weathered graves. The names are obscured by years of natural phenomena, there is no sign of visitors. vines and dense foliage line and isolate the grounds, a padded level of leaf litter create the path between graves. Distinctly, there's little smells, mild ozone tingles in breath. The stonework is distinctly non-Rhaigon, who lies here? 

Surrounded by low mountains, a seemingly endless pelt of salt reflects the sky. Oppressive and dizzyingly flat, unique in color and nature. Sunsets and skyward phenomena light the salts with wild color. Occasionally dry with a mild sparkling brightness, often a couple inches of water sits on the surface. There is a cool autumnal breeze that unaffects the surroundings.