The western face of Scaiuq is set apart from the rest of the world by a hundred-year-old storm. It is a nonplace, immutable; like a black hole, those that pass into it never find their way out.
The storm’s inner fringes are characterized by ash tundra. Visibility is nill, here, and the air is bitterly cold, so thick with soot and sleet it is impossible to breathe. Those that successfully navigate to the eye of the storm are often a mere lucky break away from those lost to it.
It is, of course, a nod to the unique ecology of Vvardenfell.
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