The sun peaks over the horizon, casting a mountain’s shadow across the pines. The wind rolls. It rattles the branches, and needles fall from their perch and plummet to the forest floor. A woman weeps in the distance… for here lurk the wicked. The sinners. The dirty thieves.

Barbarians, the lot of them. They make their beds in a land of prosperity. The landscape here is rugged and spoiled in stones, green plumage piques along the surface of rock. Grass covers the earth, a comforting touch against well-worn paws. Life is in abundance. Squirrels and pretty birds scramble amongst the branches and gather their nests in hollowed trunks.

Freshwater creeks and mountain rivers make the pine forest a popular attraction for wolf and prey-animal alike should they find the passageway leading into the forest. The forest sprawls for a distance, many a stranger occasionally wandering into Cyrileth along its twisted paths.