The great lake at the center of Veldmere large enough that far shores fade to mist on calm days. Sorvel rises upon the "crownhill" over its eastern shore. Before the fall, Kingsmere was the heart of the realm, crossed by ferries, worked by fishers, its shores dotted with villages and manorial estates.

Now the lake is shunned. The waters have grown dark and strange. Boaters who venture out rarely return. The Oldwood creeps in, almost enveloping the entire lake.