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Here is where the Deities spend their free time, resting and chatting. No mortal wolf has ever laid eyes on this place.

Here the Devils gather to judge the souls sent to this damned place of hate and flame. Mortals who set their eyes upon the evil spirit-gods go mad with terror, and often never return from the Damned Judgment.

This deep forest, once proud and green, is permanently mauled by the scorching flames of the Gods. Still black trees stand in their skeletal glory, silhouetted against the bright sky. Only the strongest of creatures can survive in this forsaken place.

Here, floating on the sea, is where one can find many proud glaciers jutting up towards the sky. Snow falls almost always here, blanketing the earth in a soft blanket of downy white.

A flat, windy expanse of tall waving grass may seem simple to some, but it is a beauty within itself in its calmness and its simplicity, an alien world so separate from everything that one is used to.

Here are tall trees that seem to scrape the very clouds with their sweeping branches. The leaves are jade in the yellow sunlight, streaming down in patches upon the earthen floor. Everything is teeming with life, birds singing and bugs scuttling.

Here in the green fields is a river of immense proportions. The pebbles under its foaming surface shine dully in the sun as the waves glitter like diamonds rippling across the surface. Fish flit about under the breaking water, their scales sparkling with their graceful, darting movements.

The swampland is a place of shadows. The ground is wet and dotted with sinkholes. Very rarely does the sunlight break through the thick vines and touch the sodden earth, but only for a short time before the thick, grey-tinted foliage shields its lands again.