3 rooms
A path winds its way down from the Moor through a dense thicket. The heather and shrubs grow tall, yet as the trail winds down from the top of the moors, far in the west, one can make out a little village.
A trail winds through the desolate, rocky wasteland. Heather and shrub grow profusely about. To the east, a large, rocky outcropping sticks up over the moor. To the west, the trail flattens out and widens as it runs through a forest.
To the west is a small, but bustling village. The air is filled with the smell of baking bread. The sound of children laughing can be heard in the distance. A baby's cry is silenced by a soft lullaby. The sign at the gate says, Meadow Creek! Population 100. A Banner over the gate proclaims the good deeds of Mayor Sinclair.