So far as I can tell, I am the first person to hike over the iron mountains since the event that created them some 800 years ago. The whole region is considered cursed by every civilization I have found bordering it, so much so that they will not even drink water that flows from within. Still, my curious nature, empty pockets, and stalking debtors drove me to make the journey with my 3 companions.
The region is essentially one mountain, towering over valleys sharply cut off by the recent appearance of the iron mountains. Elves from the nearest village old enough to remember claim the iron mountains appeared all at once, with a cover of magic, so whatever lay behind them must surely be valuable. With a doughnut-shaped set of valleys and one large mountain, it has taken weeks already and will take several weeks more to fully survey the area. It may take a lifetime, however, to understand what has been seen thus far.
There is a people here, or perhaps they should be called persons. So far as I can tell, they never group, they never talk, they never interact. The wander and linger, far from each other, eating leaves from the trees, sleeping standing up, and never doing anything more than surviving and being. They wear no clothing. If you could imagine a zombie that was still alive, I dare say it would resemble these people. Their existence is what I can best describe as a solitary living death.
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