The Atlas Pines of Northwestern Hyperborea received their name for a good reason. Their trunks possess greater girth than those of the sequoia trees, and their uppermost branches lock together into a thick lattice of arbor and needles strong enough to uphold ten-meter snowdrifts. These pearlescent dunes are all that can be seen from above, obscuring the entirely separate landscape that exists at their roots.

The interior of the pine jungle is a landscape that daylight never touches, yet remains perpetually warm. Geothermal activity exists all throughout its soil, producing hot springs and the occasional pool of world jelly. This also results in a perpetual fog of steam that occasionally manages to burst through the wintry zones above, causing waterfalls to form spontaneously. Thick accumulations of moss, fungi, and fallen needles form a soft carpet that fills the spaces between the arbors’ massive roots.

Despite being closer in conditions to a cave than a jungle, life still finds a way in this treacherous place. It is home to many scavengers, from flocks of fist-sized raven moths to the corpse-eating woolly tigers. Herbivores, especially elk, often find little to nothing that can be grazed upon, making them easy targets should they wander into its brambles by mistake. Travelers are often left uneasy in this place, for the starving opportunists within are always watching just beyond the light of their torches.