The trail leads through an oddly bright part of that forest that seems similar to an idyllic countryside, shrouded with grass and strewn with rocks. You catch a glimpse of a ruined tower ahead, crumbled atop the hill. The wind picks up, urging you forward.
The river carves a deep rut in the green countryside, winding its way from the mountains far to the south, and emptying into a small, glimmering lake to the north. A stone bridge, likely as old and erected of the same stone as the ruined tower to the northwest, spans the river and leads to a tunnel carved through the hillside.