Skriftberget

The mountain rises above the permanent mist of the Mistdalen valley — not dramatically, the way peaks in stories rise, but practically: the air clears somewhere around the third hour of climbing, and the scholars' archive is simply there, in the clear air, as if it had always been waiting for the weather to cooperate.

The Pandor scholars have kept records here through at least four ages of the world. The oldest tablets are stored inside the mountain, in a chamber whose door has not been opened in two hundred years, not because it is sealed but because there is no longer anyone who remembers the notation system they use. The more recent records are accessible. They have been read. They describe, in careful and somewhat dry language, the thing that is happening to the world.

The Dry reached this far last season. The river that used to run along the path up has been diverted — first slowly, then quickly, then was simply gone one morning. The scholars still have tea. They boil the meltwater.

Generated by lore-from-features agent.