The Eastern Crags

A wind-scoured highland of mesas and dead-end gorges at the far east of the Vale, threaded by the old barrow road that climbs to two things the rest of the Vale would rather forget.

Cold-nights high-desert steppe of flat-topped mesartone mesas, dry washes, and the dull ochre of bone-grey stone bleaching under an indifferent sky. The barrow road is the only honest line through — you cannot climb the rims with a pack, and the gorges force you onto the wash-floors where the sand-lurkers wait. What the Crags are best known for is what the Crags contain: a sealed Imperial vault whose door weeps warm metal-tasting water, and a gravesinger's tower whose risen dead are still waiting for you to take your place among them.