In the south of the Edge Basin lies the Dark Howls Forest. Sunlight dribbles through the choked canopy, painting the forest floor in sickly greens and grays. The trees are towering and ancient, and the air hangs heavy with the whines of the wind, a constant, mournful wail that rises and falls – the chilling symphony of the Dark Howls Forest. No songbirds trill in this suffocating gloom. Only the wind screams through the forest, a symphony of high-pitched cries that twist and warp, echoing forever through the undergrowth.
Beneath the canopy, the forest floor is a labyrinth of tangled roots and thorny vines. Sunlight barely pierces the gloom, leaving the damp earth cloaked in perpetual twilight. Strange fungi glow with an eerie luminescence. It's a landscape that inspires a creeping dread, a sense that unseen eyes watch from the darkness.
Creatures lurk in the shadows of the Dark Howls, their forms distorted by the twisted light. Ghostly owls with luminous eyes peer down from moss-draped branches. Wispy figures flit between the trees, leaving behind the faint scent of mold, and deeper still, within the heart of the woods, something stirs, unknown and primal.