Five hexes north, two northwest of Alakran.
Here a plain narrows into two out-thrust arms of the Scarp wonderfully coloured as if by a painter, in bands of red, pink, orange, and gold. Between these ridges huddles a pearlescent mist not normal in any season. The moist veil lingers in its cusp, no matter how hot the sun or how violent the winds.
In the Dhuga Hills, the valley of mists is a popular end-of-life destination for
many elders of a philosophical or curious bent. They go into the mists and they never leave. Others who wish to avail themselves of wisdom go in and -- most of the time -- return. It is said that in the valley you may stumble across a skull of one of the departed elders, and then it will give you the knowledge you seek, within the bounds of its own knowledge (which goes far beyond the things it knew in life). But the skull, without meaning to, for such is its nature now, is liable to add something that counts as "too much knowledge", whether it be a maddening full glimpse of the reality of the void behind the universe, or simply what your husband got up to last week while you were away in Eryptos.
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