There exists within the Wildwood an island of trees with reddish bark and a texture like old skin. Previously where the Fae buried their dead, now the lost souls that linger here have been transmuted into small, twisted saplings that bear a vague resemblance to their living forms. Lanterns are lovingly hung upon their boughs so that, in the afterlife, the dead might find their way to Mort and his herald, Ludo.

Once a mighty waterfall, the strange new properties of the Greatwood have transformed the Crimson Cataract into a floating river. Flowing in an endless loop and replenished by the rain, the river babbles about 10ft above the ground, and is an additional 15ft deep. Still a vibrant crimson thanks to the red lichen within, the locals who use this lazy river as a means to relax will find themselves stained red when they emerge.

No longer mere rumour, the Mathair (the Leafchange seasonal goddess) makes her home in this ancient tree which shares her name. Her roots stretch across the entirety of the Greatwood, threading through the islands and holding them in place. Her bark bleeds when cut, and the fruit she bears is capable of staving off hunger for days on end. However, the only flora that grows in her midst is carnivorous and deadly, and care should be taken when approaching her mighty trunk.

The magical devastation caused in the Second War has been particularly unkind to this island. The Eyes of Vi consist of various pools of still water, completely disconnected from the river. To gaze into these pools is not to see one’s own reflection, but instead vast and far away vistas. Whether these are real places or the dreaming thoughts of the Wildwood is unknown, but should anyone try to swim in their depths, they will find themselves displaced. Caught in a confusing, void-like nowhere, there is naught in all directions but eternal, utter blackness, broken only by the shimmering circle of the pool overhead.