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SAM: How far to the sides does it go? As far as
the eye can see?
MATT: Make a perception check.
SAM: That’s sort of cocked. I’ll take it anyway.
11 plus nothing.
MATT: A little ways off it seems to dip a bit.
Maybe about 100 feet or so to the northern side of
it. You’ve been traveling northwest to reach this
part of the forest.
MARISHA: We can’t see over the wall?
MATT: You can see over it a bit, as there’s only
about five or so feet most places. As you get a
little bit closer, you can see areas where these
tangle of vines are pulled apart or have entirely
enclosed, and you see long-rusted, wrought iron
bars, a fence of some kind. A boundary that was
placed long ago, that has since been slowly taken
back by nature. You then begin to see that area of
the wall that you had noticed, Nott, that had
seemed to be bending, and the vines have actually
curled over and bent it downward. It seems that
whatever this little section of the forest is–
whatever protective magics that once contained
this outer vicinity have begun to give in to the
corruption of the Savalierwood.
SAM: Should we hop the fence?
LIAM: One moment. I send Frumpkin up to flit about
50 feet ahead to see if there is anything ahead,
or from a bird’s eye view that we are unable to
detect.
MATT: Okay, make a perception check for Frumpkin
with advantage because it is still in the owl form.
LIAM: That is a 21.
MATT: Frumpkin darts up, jumping from tree edge to
tree edge, gliding through. There are numerous
layers of similar walls. Three different layers,
looks like. Whereas the outskirts or the perimeter
of this beautiful, protected, ancient gravesite
that once held this corruption at bay has slowly
collapsed inward, and a new boundary is placed.
Then that boundary has fallen. As the corruption
pulls in further, a new boundary is built. That
third boundary now seems to be in the process of
giving in, just like its previous constructs.
Within this third area, you can see not just a
lack of snow, or ice, or the winter chill, but a
nearly humid summer warmth, something more akin to
the southern tip of the Empire or even Menagerie
Coast. It is an unexpected and extreme shift in
temperature and weather. There is something
unnatural, or at least magical, that maintains
this little pocket of untouched paradise. There
you can see small pools, bits of bog where the
soft green and browns of compost fall into green,
thick, algae-covered bits of water. You can see
dozens and dozens of stone tablets, about a foot
to two feet high, with bits of script across them,
too far to see, that have partially fallen or
leaning. At which point Frumpkin looks around and
this entire area, from the outer very edge where
that first perimeter wall was found, to the inside
has all been graves, most taken back by the
Savalierwood as it slowly crushes whatever this
location is at its source. On the far end, towards
the core and the back– the northern side of this