Eleven miles north, two northwest of Alakran.
The Scarp, at this point, joins its north-south run with a fistful of other ridges and buttresses to soar into a dark brown peak twice as high as the rest of the wall-like barrier, whose roots run out into the surrounding lands.
On cold days in the rainy season, the mountain top grows as white as a great-grandmother's head. While the peasants look and say "Terkutta grows old from chill," sages know that a brave climber on such days can return with sackfuls of "cold salt" gathered at the peak, a kind of fine hail worth up to 20 gp per pound that can be kept for weeks, even months in a sealed vessel underground. The cold salt is equally useful in concocting alchemical experiments and in elaborating frozen sweetened delicacies for the palate of kings.