Where the Green Wilds meet the Dunes of Kunagi, the forest thins into scrubland. The Royon stretches for perhaps thirty miles—trees growing shorter and sparser until they give way to thornbush, then to sand and heat shimmer.
Nothing lives here that doesn't have to. The scrub is too dry for jungle creatures, too vegetated for desert dwellers. Game animals pass through during seasonal migrations, and predators follow them. Otherwise, the Royon sits empty—a no-man's-land between two hostile ecosystems.
Scattered across the scrubland are stone foundations and toppled columns, remnants of some civilization that predated the Dwelyn. No one knows who built them or why. The ruins are picked clean of anything obviously valuable, but occasionally a sandstorm will uncover something new—a buried chamber, a sealed jar, a skeleton clutching something that glints.