As far as the eye could see, the land was a boundless, flat expanse. The horizon stretched out straight toward the sky, broken only by the World's Roof to the north and the Sunset Mountain Range to the east.
The land was dotted with patches of farmland growing rye and barley. The dirt paths separating these fields were sparsely populated with pedestrians—farmers shouldering their tools and merchants guiding their donkeys.
It was now the harvest season.
The farmers had a clear division of labor. Some swung scythes to reap the grain, others called out as they bundled the sheaves, and still others drove oxcarts, hauling the harvest to the granaries.
The ridges between fields were piled with hay, turnips, and cabbages. The outskirts of the villages were covered with newly harvested grain and flax, laid out to dry.
Beyond the fields, the landscape was dotted with small forests, villages of log cabins, and tall structures built from stone blocks.
