Mountains The mountains heave rocky shoulders into the sky, snow-capped and sharp-edged; the land is sliced by icy streams, which plunge and race towards the ocean. At lower elevations, the mountains are less harsh, marked with clumps of vegetation. Further down still, the foothills burble with streams and green life.
Rainforest Tucked against the mountains’ flanks like a raucous green tattoo on a matron’s shoulder, the rainforest is made up of invasive species from further east; this mad blend of African, Indian, and South American flora provides an environment for the more exotic creatures.
Swamp Insects buzz, birds sing the borders of their territories, fish break the murky, reed-strewn surface of the water. A crocodile slips from a bank and disappears; an anaconda smiles, and follows. The swamps are a lush environment, but impassible to the unskilled and deadly to the foolish.
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Woods In some places, the underbrush is thick and sunlight strikes the mulch like a benediction; in others, the ground is dry and needle-strewn, and pines tower above in magnificent solemnity. This mad patchwork sprawls across the land like the product of a loony quilt-maker, all in shades of green, seamed by the wandering blue roads of rivers and stream. Here, also, are artifacts of mankind: stone walls, concrete huts with broken-in roofs, and shattered stretches of weed-pocked pavement.
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Chaparral The rivers have turned aside to the ocean, or have given their best to the forest and swamp; in this dry brush, cacti threaten unwary feet and snakes bask on grey rocks, wary of roadrunner and mongoose. Still, some stunted trees persist to grow here, and the odd acacia or baobab stands strong among the sagebrush. The roads of humanity wind through the landscape like desiccated arteries, and their buildings burst cells along the way.
a Dead City A grey and gloomy edifice to a long-passed age, the Dead City is a broken comment on its old splendor. The neon has died, the signs fallen, the windows are broken in; dust drifts into buildings, and dirt is tracked in. Birds make their nests among church spires and office desks; hybrids pick curiously over the odd artifacts of humanity. At the edges of the City, the scrub which has consumed the farmland of yester-year picks at the edges of concrete and consumes whole buildings.
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Plain & Prairie The plains are vast, a rolling sea of golden grass and twisted trees; to stand in the center is to see the living ocean meet the hot blue sky. Many exotic creatures have congregated here, the beasts and plants of old Africa and the American pampas.
Desert When finally the meager rainfall gives out, there is the desert; dirt and dust skirling over cracked earth, oases like blue gems winking under the merciless sun, and most of them illusions of tired eyes and mind. To the far west, the dirt gives way to drifting sand, until the land turns to ocean. Life persists here, all the same -- serpents, beetles, oryx, and stranger things.
the Ocean The ocean thrums against the land, winking, dangerous, sapphire-and-silver bright -- or sometimes grey, or green, depending on its mood, and the sky’s temper. On its beaches and coastline, seabirds and seals make their homes, crabs scuttle among tide pools (to be snatched up by an octopus, if the octopus is lucky and the crab, not so much). Bright parrotfish and coral make complex kaleidoscope lives close to shore; anchovies and leviathans call its depths and open breadth home.
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