The anima of Ghornfell is less table than that of Brynmoor, and the anima twist’s effects are more pronounced. Plants take on the hues of dragonfire, making the entire region dance like an inferno when the summer wind blows.
Towering in the distance is a great tower, shattered now yet still imbued with ancient dragonkin magic. A terrible roaring can be heard from this structure and a shadow passes over it when General Velgar returns. The dragon makes his lair in the remains of a dragonkin’s hubris, a monument to an architect long since dead.
Garou make their homes across this region, sending out hunting parties to slaughter anything that crosses their path.
Atop the mesa, something glistens in the moonlight and a mournful sound carries on the wind. A sorrow that resonates in shimmering crystal.