The Burnt Peaks
The Burnt Peaks tower as a foreboding range in the northern reaches of the coastline, their blackened slopes a testament to ancient volcanic fury now long dormant. Named for the scorched, ash-dusted rock that dominates the landscape, these mountains stretch across jagged ridges and steep gorges, their summits shrouded in a haze of smoke from smoldering fissures. Unlike the fiery eruptions of ages past, the peaks now lie in a restless slumber—lava flows are rare, replaced by occasional wisps of steam and the faint glow of cooling magma deep within crevices. The air carries a sharp tang of sulfur and ozone, and the ground rumbles softly, a reminder of the slumbering power beneath.
The terrain is a harsh mosaic of basalt cliffs, scree-strewn slopes, and narrow passes choked with ash drifts. Geothermal springs bubble up in sheltered hollows, their mineral-rich waters steaming in shades of turquoise and amber, offering warmth but scalding to the touch. Sparse vegetation survives in this unforgiving land—gnarled ashwood trees with bark like charcoal cling to rocky outcrops, while thorny emberbrush, its leaves faintly luminescent at night, grows in scattered clumps, its sap a volatile fuel that ignites with a spark. The Burnt Peaks have long been a refuge for goblinoid tribes, driven here after their defeat in the Green Conflict. These tribes, once a scourge on the valleys below, have grown eerily quiet in recent decades, their strongholds now simmering with hidden purpose. The peaks remain a crucible of danger and mystery, where the air crackles with tension and every shadow hides a potential threat.
Localized Phenomena
Atop the large plateaus of the Burnt Peaks, an unrelenting thunderstorm rages incessantly, its dark clouds swirling since the peaks’ volcanic dormancy, a phenomenon scholars have noted intensifying with each passing decade. The constant lightning strikes, fueled by the peaks’ heightened electrical charge, have fused the basalt into black obsidian glass across the plateaus, a glassy sheen that reflects the storm’s fury, while scouts report hobgoblin forces harvesting this obsidian to construct crude fortresses, fighting amongst themselves for dominance. The storm’s roar drowns out other sounds, its bolts illuminating hidden paths and goblinoid patrols, though the increasing intensity suggests a growing power—perhaps tied to an ancient force—drawing adventurers to investigate its source amid the danger.
The thunderstorm has offered both opportunity and peril to the hobgoblin forces. The lightning-etched obsidian provides a durable resource, its shards coveted for crafting, while the storm reveals fleeting routes through the ash drifts, though steam vents beneath pose a scalding risk. The hobgoblins’ fortresses, blending into the glassy terrain, use the storm’s cover to ambush prey or their own kin, their crude walls a testament to their resourcefulness, making the plateaus a battleground where only the bold survive. Ash storms, whipped by the tempest, scatter embers that ignite on contact, adding to the hazard, yet the storm’s rhythm—strongest during Emberfall—hints at a pattern scholars urge players to decode.
Climate
The Burnt Peaks endure a semi-arid, high-altitude volcanic climate, shaped by their northern latitude, elevation, and dormant volcanic nature. Perched at an average elevation of 3,000 to 5,000 feet, the range experiences stark temperature swings, thin air, and minimal precipitation, creating a harsh environment where only the toughest flora and fauna survive. The climate is defined by its dryness, extreme diurnal variations, and the lingering effects of geothermal activity, which add a unique twist to the region’s weather patterns.
Winds are a constant in the Burnt Peaks, averaging 10 to 20 mph, with gusts up to 40 mph during storms. These winds, often blowing from the north, carry ash and soot, creating the region’s infamous ash storms. In late spring, these storms occur roughly once a week, lasting 1 to 3 hours, reducing visibility to near zero and coating everything in a fine layer of grit. The storms are less frequent in summer but more intense in winter, when icy gusts amplify the cold.
Geothermal Influence
The dormant volcanic activity of the Burnt Peaks adds a unique element to its climate. Steam vents release hot vapor year-round, raising local temperatures by 5°F to 10°F (3°C to 6°C) near the vents and creating microclimates where cinderbloom flowers thrive. These vents also contribute to the haze of smoke that hangs over the range, trapping heat at night and slightly moderating the temperature drop—though the air remains thick with sulfur, irritating lungs and eyes. Geothermal springs, steaming at 120°F to 150°F (49°C to 66°C), dot the landscape, their heat a double-edged sword: they provide warmth in winter but can scald the unwary.
Fauna & Flora
Flora
- Ashwood Trees: Gnarled trees with charcoal-black bark, thriving in the ashen soil. Their wood is heat-resistant, ideal for crafting durable shields, and they bear small, bitter nuts that sustain local wildlife.
- Emberbrush: Thorny shrubs with faintly glowing leaves, their sap a volatile fuel that ignites easily. Hobgoblins use it for traps, while adventurers might harvest it for incendiary tools.
- Cinderbloom: Rare, crimson flowers that grow near steam vents, their petals curling like tiny flames. They’re mildly toxic but can be brewed into a stimulant that wards off exhaustion.
- Ash Deer: Lean deer with soot-gray coats, adapted to the Peaks’ sparse vegetation. They nibble on ashwood nuts and cinderbloom petals, their blackened antlers blending into the rocky terrain.
- Rock Squirrels: Small rodents with stone-gray fur, nesting in cliff crevices. They hoard emberbrush seeds, their burrows a fire hazard if disturbed.
- Blackbeak Vulture: A sleek, obsidian-feathered scavenger with razor-sharp beaks, these vulture soars the stormy plateaus of the Burnt Peaks, its cries piercing the relentless thunder as it hunts weakened prey or scavenges the dead.
- Red Lynx: A wiry feline with soot-gray fur streaked with ember-red, the Red Lynx prowls the ash-drifted slopes. Agile and elusive, it stalks rock squirrels, using the storm’s cover to ambush with lethal precision.
Type
Mountain Range
