[Location] Smokey Waters

[Flicker]

Smokey Waters For hundreds of years, the area has been known as a haven for those daft enough to venture into The Unforgiven. Like many modern landmarks of the Kalea region, this one had its beginning in the Valterrian. For those travelling by air, its location is readily denoted by billowing columns of thick white steam extending above the surrounding trees. Sometimes the slender sliver of rockbed beneath the steam is hidden in a smear of fog, but on clear, windless days glimpses of dark, craggy stone can be seen in between the opaque pillars. The abrupt ridge of stone breaks the lush earth for roughly half a mile, just under a kilometer, pinched at the ends and the widest in the middle, reaching half as wide as it is long. For those travelling by foot, pushing through the verdant forest with Smokey Waters as the destination can be tricky if all one is relies on is the steam, as the thick white clouds are at the mercy of the wind and air temperature. There are, however, a few game trails that can generally be followed if all else fails. On site, clouds billow up from treacherously uneven stone, their sources hidden by ragged formations more often than not, and great patches in the distance are hidden by their milky bodies. Some days the steam wafts up in multitudes of thin tendrils, others find the entire area blanketed. Regardless, the odorless air is heavy further into the rockbed, the heat and moisture clinging to anything moving more than a hands breathe above the ground. So warm and moist that it feels like no new air is being drawn into the lungs. Sound melts away, completely absorbed by the reverberating particles in the steam, even the scuffling of the traveler’s own feet becomes lost before reaching their ears. Sight is no better, the clouds unnaturally thick, and the larger ones allow nothing more than a vague outline of the ground directly beneath the traveler. The dampening agents of the steam are one of the reasons this remote location is considered an oasis; getting lost in the warm, drifting mist is both a curse and a blessing, for disorientation is likely not only to the traveler but to any beasts that might be tracking them. Eventually finding the edge of the dense surrounding forest is probable, and in the time between getting lost and being found, if the traveler doesn’t trip fatally over the pocked ground, there are plenty of resources to facilitate survival. The heaviest draw to the area is the sources of this muting steam: hot springs, also the source of the life-promoting resources. Many small pools, ranging from puddles to thimblefuls, dot the craggy stone ground, their tunnel sources mere trickles compared to some of the larger pools. The larger pools swirl continuously, carving deep indentions into the rock and sometimes requiring a curious visitor to scale down a short drop to reach the depths. These provide utter privacy. And much more. The deep hot springs stave off the chill even in the winter months, though the flow is greatly reduced during this time. The slabs and cubbies carved into the sides of the pits make for good camp spots, moist warmth drifting up from the hot water flowing in the bottoms. The water pooled in these pits is safe for drinking, as well, and many edible crustaceous life forms make the dark tunnels between pools their home. These wells of life carry on their cycles, waiting for a weary traveler to stop and take a good look; perhaps sit a while and dip their hands in to interrupt the monotonous flow, take advantage of the supernatural refreshing qualities of the water, and the hyper-nutritious shrimpies. There is always a risk of chance encounters with anyone, or thing, visiting the area. Finding things unsought should be expected. For the last two hundred years or so, the area has had a growing number of lost items attributed to its uneven terrain and disorienting fog. A plethora of treasure hunters have shown up over the years to comb the area. Some meet with success while others contribute items to the list of possible acquisitions for future visitors. Sometimes it’s as simple as a piece of clothing, other times a purse full of mizas, or a weapon, article of armor, or tools of trade. These little surprises often hide within the folds or under shelves of stone, sometimes plummeting to spend years within a watery embrace. Other embraces are more painful. Rocky formations know no rhyme or reason, they pop up in long slates, they dip down in sharp divots, and there are holes no wider than a sapling but deep enough that the bottom is lost among the black shadows inside. Some of the surfaces are pocked, others are smooth as glass or ridged with thin curvy fins; the whole steamy sliver of stone snaking through the dense forest is a history of water paths. Pools dot the stone; some nowhere near a thin trickling stream, others partially hidden under thin shelves of stone, some no more than a thimbleful of water, others large enough for a bear or two to bathe in. Each fold and crag, accented with whirls of steam, is an opportunity to either have a nice seat, or trip and gain a close acquaintance with the ground.