Death permeates from every crevice of this land. Bones never seem to decay at the rate they should here and the skeletal remains of creatures can be found strewn across the dust ridden and barren soil landscape. At the heart of this deadened land stands a crumbling monolith. A mausoleum of marble and stone that has weathered the test of time and fallen short. A garish tomb of dark stone and shock of obsidian through the deathly cold stone that create the large resting place. Stairs leading up to the tomb are guarded by stone jackals and ravens, their beady stone eyes seeming to follow any interlopers who dare step upon the stairs. Skulls are inlaid in the walls and ceiling, and a chandelier of bone hangs from above. Torches flicker and waver but never go out and cast just enough light to see. Another door with an archway has stairs that extend down into blackness where one is met by a wall with no seemingly way through. A mist hangs over the land and despite how cold it is, only a few inches of snow fall here every autumn and winter, frost is more likely.