Isolated from the majority of the other factions, this foreboding territory is has a rather unsettling nickname, Land of Hungry Shadows. Black wraiths travel in every shape, every form, swimming around the feet of trespassers and the unwary. Said to be ruled be evil, tainted beings who have long since lost their physical form, they seek to rip the soul from the ignorant and steal their flesh. A thick fog spills across the leaf-laden ground where grass refuses to grow. It coils around the base of hearty trees that are dark, twisted things with gnarled limbs grappling for the heavens above. Here, one of the greatest wars was held and though decades have passed over, the land still reeks of death, decay and wolf-meat. The earth is hard and compacted, digging through it takes time and only small game exists.