[ In this larger, brighter, expanded circle of light, you can see more of the immediate surroundings beyond the edge of the Haven. You see the skeletons of bushes. What once was lush grass is now crisp, dry tufts, crinkled over bare dirt. The naked trunks of what used to be conifers extend overhead and vanish into darkness. ]
[ One side of the platform-shaped Haven slopes gently down to the ground. From there, a dirt path winds off into the trees. ]
[ Confidently, plainly experiencing no emotions whatsoever (!), you follow the path through a forest long dead. ]
[ Out here, the air tastes bitter and caustic. The unnatural silence is occasionally punctuated by sounds: a distant, echoing crash of something crisp and wooden getting broken. A lonely groan from an inhuman throat. The intermittent scrape of dry leaves, disturbed by feet that skitter away before your circle of light can touch them. ]
[ As you walk, the path starts to climb up a slope, leading you through several switchbacks. The trees thin out, and the sky seems to lighten a few shades, like something up ahead is illuminating the very air. ]
[ You can see light glinting off boulders and tree trunks, guiding you forward like a beacon. ]
[ You have to scrabble over some rocks, picking your way upward. Then you look over a ridge and there it is:
—The ugliest city you’ve ever seen in your life. ]
[ The city is on the far side of a huge expanse of cobblestone — which, now that you’re looking at it, appears to be a parking lot. ]
[ After all that climbing, you have a better vantage point of where you just came from. Behind you is a steep drop into a vast canyon. You climbed out of there somehow, but from here it looks like a huge cleft in the earth that someone poured an ocean of heavy, dark fog into. ]
Re: Haven
[ One side of the platform-shaped Haven slopes gently down to the ground. From there, a dirt path winds off into the trees. ]
[ Confidently, plainly experiencing no emotions whatsoever (!), you follow the path through a forest long dead. ]
[ Out here, the air tastes bitter and caustic. The unnatural silence is occasionally punctuated by sounds: a distant, echoing crash of something crisp and wooden getting broken. A lonely groan from an inhuman throat. The intermittent scrape of dry leaves, disturbed by feet that skitter away before your circle of light can touch them. ]
[ As you walk, the path starts to climb up a slope, leading you through several switchbacks. The trees thin out, and the sky seems to lighten a few shades, like something up ahead is illuminating the very air. ]
[ You can see light glinting off boulders and tree trunks, guiding you forward like a beacon. ]
[ You have to scrabble over some rocks, picking your way upward. Then you look over a ridge and there it is:
—The ugliest city you’ve ever seen in your life. ]
[ The city is on the far side of a huge expanse of cobblestone — which, now that you’re looking at it, appears to be a parking lot. ]
[ After all that climbing, you have a better vantage point of where you just came from. Behind you is a steep drop into a vast canyon. You climbed out of there somehow, but from here it looks like a huge cleft in the earth that someone poured an ocean of heavy, dark fog into. ]