To the North is an ocean without water. Mountains form islands in a sea of Ash and cinder. Boats built of bone and sinew slice across the grey waves, hunting the strange fauna and on another.
Once a forest, a verdant proliferation of green. Then came the Arsonist, and with her came fire. The conflagration lasted a year and left a sea of Ash, smothering more than the forest could ever have hoped to — enough to choke the Basilisks themselves.
