“Paradise on top of the world, my left foot! Are you such a fool that you believe every slave rumor you hear? If it were true, don't you think we'd all be living there instead of in this dusty pit?”
- Dura Mandic, Tyrian glass crafter
Rumors and reports filter across the Tablelands, whispers about a vast and untamed wilderness beyond the Ringing Mountains where rain falls every day and trees grow so tall and thick that the sun struggles to shine through the canopy. Most Athasians doubt that such a fantastical place could exist on their dying world, but exist it does. Beneath the mighty peaks of the Ringing Mountains is the Forest Ridge, a region unlike any other on Athas. It is a wild, verdant land of dense jungles choked with vines, bracken, brambles, and countless species of animals and plants. Here one can find a glimpse of the world as it should have Been. But for all its abundance, wonder, and plentiful water, the Forest Ridge is no haven. The dim light shining through the tangled boughs does little to reveal the dangers lurking in the shadows, hidden behind beautiful colors. Competition in the jungle is fierce, and the denizens must adapt or be devoured. Deadly predators both animals and plants camouflage themselves in a hundred ways in the dense canopy and undergrowth.
Like much of the rest of Athas, the Forest Ridge is filled with ruins. Dizzying mountain roads, mighty colossi, and hidden citadels carved by ancient hands lie unexplored in the jungles, remnants of a long-lost halfling civilization. The Forest Ridge is more properly described as a great plateau or highland. Most of the region lies at an elevation approaching 10,000 feet, and the air is 30 to 40 degrees cooler than in the lowlands of the Tyr Region. The Ringing Mountains intercept the prevailing westerly winds and the little moisture they carry. As a traveler climbs from the Tablelands through the passes of the mountain range, walls of clouds bunch up behind the peaks ahead, and the rumble of thunder echoes in the distance. Farther west, the ridge steadily descends thousands of feet to meet the scrub plains of the Western Hinterlands, and the climate grows progressively hotter and drier until the trees finally give out.