The eastern wall of Moigos, separating the swamplands from Fernius Sound. Where the Screech Peaks divide Petrona Septia's interior, the Urun range defines its eastern coast, a spine of grey granite and black shale running north-south along the water's edge. The mountains aren't tall, but they're steep and densely forested on the lower slopes, giving way to bare rock and scree above.
The Kappa treat the Urun differently than they treat the swamps. The lowland forests are their domain, woven through with debts and obligations. The mountains are... storage.
Lower Slopes
The accessible valleys and foothills are where the Kappa keep what they don't want found. Mining camps work veins of copper and iron, staffed by debtors who defaulted and found themselves with no other way to pay. The work isn't slavery, technically. The workers chose this over the alternatives the Kappa offered. They'll be free when their debts are cleared. The debts, somehow, never quite clear.
Beyond the mines, the lower Urun hold caches known only to specific Kappa families. Wealth that can't be kept in counting houses. Evidence that might prove useful someday. Bodies that were never meant to be found. The mountains don't judge, and stone keeps secrets better than swamp mud.
Calentia is the gateway to the Urun. Anyone heading into the mountains passes through, and the Kappa-connected merchants there note who goes up and who comes down. Legitimate prospectors are tolerated; they occasionally find something valuable, and their discoveries always seem to benefit the right people. Treasure hunters heading for rumored caches are watched more carefully. Most don't come back.
Upper Reaches
Above the treeline, the Kappa's influence fades. Not because they lack the reach, but because they choose not to extend it.
The toad-folk keep records going back centuries, meticulous accounts of debts, agreements, and territorial arrangements. Those records include a simple note, repeated across generations: "don't dig too deep." No explanation. No context. Just the instruction, passed down like any other piece of institutional knowledge.
Something was in the Urun before the Kappa came to Moigos. Before humans settled Petrona Septia. Ruins mark certain peaks: foundations of structures built from stones too large to have been carried up the slopes, carved with symbols that don't match any known script. The screechers from the Screech Peaks won't fly over certain ridges. Goats that wander too high don't come back, but neither do their bones turn up.
The Kappa don't talk about the upper Urun. They don't forbid travel there; that would invite questions. They simply ensure that anyone asking about the high peaks receives no useful information, and anyone who goes looking finds the paths surprisingly difficult to follow.
Whatever sleeps in the upper Urun has been sleeping a long time. The Kappa see no reason to wake it.
The Fernius Gap
A single pass cuts through the Urun to the Fernius Sound coast, a narrow defile that sees occasional use by traders who'd rather avoid the longer route around the mountains. The Kappa control both ends, naturally. Tolls are reasonable. Delays are not unheard of. Cargo is occasionally "inspected" and found to be in violation of regulations that no one can quite cite.
The gap is also how certain goods enter and leave Moigos without appearing in any official records. Ships anchor in hidden coves along Fernius Sound; cargo moves through the pass by night; by morning, it's in Kappa warehouses with paperwork showing it arrived through entirely legitimate channels. The merchants of Calentia know better than to ask questions.