Elynara stood on a low rise just off the road, the wind tugging lightly at her cloak as she surveyed the farmland ahead.

The sprawl stretched wide across the shallow valley, with fenced pasture patches, rows of unfamiliar crops, and narrow footpaths that wound between them like faded ribbons.

A few distant figures moved slowly across the land, far enough away to look like colored dots. Aside from the occasional squawk or creak of a turning windpost, the place was quiet.

Tall grass cropped low, bare patches where hooves had rubbed the soil, and seemed like most of the open land was suitable for grazing. Some areas were tilled and planted, but not with anything she recognized. No wheat. No cabbage. The rows looked too fine, the leaves wrong. One field had long, crimson-tipped stalks that swayed like reeds in the breeze.