A range of low, bleached hills rising from the southern Fylvrae Sylvrym, where the forest thins before meeting the Kilbyurn foothills. The hills take their name from what lies beneath them—and from their appearance at the right angle.
Geography
The Carcass Hills stretch roughly 40 miles east to west and 20 miles north to south, rising perhaps 500 feet above the surrounding forest floor at their highest point. The terrain is rolling rather than rugged, with gentle slopes and broad, flat-topped ridges.
The soil here is thin and alkalite, supporting only sparse grass and scrub brush. The underlying stone is a pale limestone shot through with ancient fossite deposits—the compressed remains of creatures from an era before recorded history. Rain and wind have carved the exposed rock into strange shapes: arches, pillars, and formations that resemble skeletal remains at the right angle.
Several rivers drain through the hills, their channels cutting shallow valleys between the ridges. The Voules River is the largest, flowing south toward the Eceraen foothills. The water runs clear here, filtered through the limestone, though it carries a slightly mineral taste.
Why "Carcass" Hills
The name has three sources, and all are accurate:
The Appearance: The pale limestone formations, eroded by wind and rain, resemble nothing so much as enormous ribcages and spines protruding from the earth. From certain angles, the whole range looks like a graveyard of titans—or the picked-clean remains of something even larger.
The Fossils: The rock is dense with fossilized remains. Bones of unfamiliar creatures protrude from cliffsides and erode out of hillsides after heavy rains. Some are recognizable—giant elk, massive bears, creatures that still exist in smaller forms. Others are not. Collectors prize the fossils, though reaching them requires passing through ulvsjael territory.
The Dead: Something terrible happened here, long ago. The hills are layered with mass graves, deliberate burials rather than natural accumulations. Whoever they were, they numbered in the tens of thousands. The bones are human, or close to it, and they've been there for millennia.
The Ulvsjael and the Hills
Unusually, the Carcass Hills are not prime ulvsjael territory. The packs hunt here occasionally, but no pack claims the hills as core territory. The terrain is poor for their tactics—too open, too exposed, with inadequate cover for coordinated ambushes.
This makes the Carcass Hills one of the few places in western Wycendeula where careful travelers might pass without immediate confrontation. The operative word is "might." Packs still patrol the surrounding forest, and the hills offer no protection once you're noticed. But the hills themselves are as close to neutral ground as exists in this region.
Local satyr have a different theory about why the ulvsjael avoid the hills. They claim the place is cursed—that the spirits of whoever died here still linger, and that the wolves can sense them. The ulvsjael, predictably, don't explain their behavior.
Current State
The Citadel is empty but not safe.
The surface ruins attract occasional explorers, scholars, and treasure hunters who are willing to risk ulvsjael territory for a chance at ancient artifacts. Most find little of value—the easy pickings were taken centuries ago. Some find passage to the lower levels and don't return.
The ulvsjael packs avoid The Citadel itself even more thoroughly than they avoid the surrounding hills. They don't enter the ruins, don't hunt on the central hill, and become visibly agitated if pursued toward it. Whatever keeps them from the Carcass Hills generally keeps them from The Citadel absolutely.
This makes The Citadel a potential refuge for those fleeing through the forest—if you can reach it. The surrounding hills still require crossing ulvsjael patrol routes. But once inside the ruins, the wolves won't follow.
Why they won't follow is another question no one can answer.
For Explorers
The Carcass Hills offer the best passage route through southern Fylvrae Sylvrym. Stay on the ridgelines where visibility is good. Move during daylight when the pale stone makes approaching threats visible. The Citadel provides emergency shelter if needed.
Don't descend into the lower levels without significant preparation. The upper ruins are safe enough—abandoned and picked clean. Below the second subterranean level, the architecture changes and the sense of wrongness intensifies. Several well-equipped expeditions have gone deeper. None have returned intact.
The fossils embedded in the limestone might be valuable, but extracting them takes time you may not have. Better to note locations and return with proper support than to spend an hour chipping at rock while wolves circle.