The lone-lands

To leave the valley of Rivendell was to leave the warmth and safety of the elven enclave in one fell swoop. Autumn rain greeted Kennet on the High Moor, wetting the damp ground and making passage through the wilderness difficult.

Getting up was a difficult feat. Her head hurt, her vision blurred, and her jaw ached. She remembered quite a bit from the evening before, but none of it was a fond memory. She dropped her feet to the floor, allowing their bareness to touch the coldness of the stone floor. She shivered, but did not place them within the confines of slippers. 

I've been in the lone-lands a few days now, actively hunting down many of the creatures that have infested it. You'd be surprised how many goblins you can see all at once out here!

Big difference between here and the southeast. There it was jungle, and desert it was easy to make enemies. Here I find the people a bit too kind to strangers. A trait that would get you killed back home. I've been travelling back and forth between Ost Guruth and Combe for quite a while now, met a handful of people. All kind, say for a few who seem to have a special eye for foreigners.