Ashburn territories lies on the westernmost frontier of the realm, a rugged land carved by salt and stone, where jagged cliffs plunge into a roaring, steel-colored sea. The coastline is restless—turbulent waves crash endlessly against ancient rock faces, sending sprays of brine into the wind. The sky here is often veiled in gray, streaked with gulls, and shadowed by low clouds that carry neither rain nor comfort.
The land is lean and unforgiving, dotted with twisted pines and hardy shrubs that cling to the hillsides like stubborn survivors. Droughts stretch long into the seasons, turning the thin topsoil to dust and rendering large-scale farming nearly impossible. Only the hardiest root vegetables and wind-resistant herbs can be coaxed from the earth, and even then, with difficulty.
