This place has a presence. Solidity to the insubstantial, a representation of the abstract. This place is also sick, diseased and rotting. The ground warped by layers of inanimate organic matter. Formed from the thousands consumed by the world decay. Bloated faces of ancient beings petrified into stone death masks dot the barren landscape. This presence is fed life by this death. Distended and mutated it is worshiped by the few remaining sentient beings as a god. A god of withering.
