Five lands in a chain, a wall of mountains between each, and one pass through.
You uncover them by exploring the realm. Dungeons, taverns and shrines only appear once you have stood close enough to see them, and the dungeons are never in the same place twice.
Open farmland under a low grey sky. It fed a kingdom once. The fences are still standing. The people who built them are not.
The going is quick here, which mostly means that whatever is chasing you is quick too.
The wood had wardens once. Now it has lights that drift between the trunks, and paths that are darker at noon than the fields are at midnight.
Keep to the path. It does not always keep to you.
This was the capital. There are still roads, and statues with their faces turned to the north, and halls where the feast tables were never cleared.
Nobody has lived here for nineteen years. It is not empty.
Dead trees, standing water, and a sky the colour of old brass. Every step leaves a ring on the surface, and the rings carry a long way.
The fen folk had songs about what lives in the middle of it. Nobody sings them at night.
They had a kinder name before. At the top of the last road there is a broken castle, and braziers that somebody keeps lit.
You will need the whole mirror to go in. That is all anyone will say.
When the light goes,
make camp.
The days are short and they are counted. Where you spend them is up to you.
Rumours cost a drink. The dice game is called Nolrat's Eyes, and the locals think the name is funny.
Two old men know more than they say. Either will do you a favour. Ask too often and you may not like what you get.
The city of coin kept its walls and its temple. Healers, a shop, and a priesthood that will bless you for a donation.
Night falls whether you are ready or not. Some nights bring a dream. Some bring a nightmare. Some bring bandits.