Great Plateau

"Desert rats up there, in their turbans and hoopla. Come down in the night and the winter to raid on our horses. Nothing better than a Susspinese heavy, and the world knows it. But they live day to day on that flat barren waste, with no rain and few wells. They may be half a mile above the ground, but the land is flat as far as the eye can see."

"Occasionally a caravan comes through from that old city up there, Kar somethin’ or other. They head to the capital, and trade with the duke. Bring good cloth and jems, but little for us working men. So we deal with the raids, and the grit that blows off when the wind is from the west, but for the most part we ignores it, half mile high and all."

-Susspinese rancher

Savanna

"Careful where you wander bookworm, there are some places not fit for the travel of gentle men. The savanna certainly is one of them. I hear the tribes there eat the flesh of men and beast with equal relish. Troll and bog crawlers lurk around every hillock, and not enough cover exists between here and the end of the land to hide a flea. The ground out there may look lush, but it won’t carry a crop, as the colonies of settlers from Vaunephasauk have found to their despair."

"They say it is the taint from the mountains, washing to the ocean and destroying the land. I think that the land resents us. We civilized humans have no truck in some places and that may just be one of them."

"I heard tell of a man who crossed them once though. Went in with his horse and mule alone. Came back five years later changed. No horse, no mule, just a bruised and broken man, carrying a few bags. He was covered in tattoos and war paints, garbed in rags, and carrying more knives then any man I have seen before. He reeked of offal and had forgotten the civil tongue of men, or so they say."

"I don’t know if its true or not but they say he has a mansion over in Mordin now. Never did find out what was in those bags"

-Vaunephasauk Border Warden

Tundra

"A bleak land it is, yet strangely beautiful to me. I was once a woodsman, but have turned trapper in those northern climes. Once a year I make my way back here and sell those skins which are worth something. Many is the beauty that dwells within the frost rimmed ground and huddles under the winter sage."

"Every once in a while I still see the woolly creatures migrating, looking for the long grasses which will sustain their girth. I leave them alone myself, have to be a fool to attack something like that alone. No trap I can build will hold one, though the ivory would be nice"

"Anyway there isn’t much else up here. The occasional band of the Ga’Vin out gathering bones, some few tribes of barbarians eaking out an existence as far from civilization as they can. Some of them still migrate on horse, carry everything they own with them. They say they founded Susspin, and I wouldn’t doubt it too much except they never put two stones together in their lives. The horses do have a certain similarity though."

"Well if you ever have to cross the tundra, pack your water close to your skin so it doesn’t freeze. Hide your food from the animals, and hurry where-ever you’re going before winter locks you in a snowbank for a thousand years."

-Martinson Olwin