It's probably a little generous to refer to the motley collection of cabins in the middle of the basin as a town, but it's clear that in the days people still lived here, the hub of activity was here. The 'streets' are simply packed dirt, marked more by boots and the passage of logs than by real intent. The cabins themselves vary in size and construction, but the interiors are invariably similar - little more than basic beds and living areas, having clearly been stripped of anything of real use.

Winding back and forth along the western side of the valley, the track has fallen into crumbling disrepair, resulting in sections of it having dissolved into little more than treacherous scree. It's quite the hike, but probably the easiest way of making it up out of the central valley, since once upon a time, it was an actual path.

Should one manage to clamber their way up out of the valley basin, they might happen upon this sturdy cabin, built daringly on the edge of a crag. Outside, there is a commanding view of the valley below, though the altitude is such that potshots are implausible. The cabin itself is a snug little building, not particularly remarkable, though discolourations on the walls would suggest that it was once festooned with hunting trophies.

Ice cold and deep enough to lose your depth easily, swimming here is not recommended. Just a little north of town, it's clear from the handful of boat sheds built around it that the lake was once used for fishing. There are even a number of small rowing boats present, though the majority of them are rotted to the point of being unusable.

Pines dot the entire valley to a greater or lesser extent. However, it's the eastern slopes of the valley that the trees grow thickest. Here, the trunks are so close together that visibility doesn't extend beyond a few metres, light has difficulty filtering through, and a carpet of needles muffles footsteps completely. Added to the steep terrain, and the stand is not a place many would feel comfortable in for long.

Buried deep in the dense pine stands, it's possible to stumble upon this wooden shack. Considering the dilapidation of the rest of the valley, the shack is in surprisingly good condition. It can hardly be considered cosy, but it's shelter, at least. In fact, looking closely, it seems as if somebody may have been living there quite recently...

Feeding the lake is a stream running down from somewhere high in the mountains surrounding the valley. It winds back and forth up the steep slopes, and without proper equipment, most people would have a very difficult time following it for long. In some places, it narrows down to barely more than a trickle, in others, it widens to the point it could almost be considered a river (albeit a shallow one). It proceeds in a vaguely north-easterly direction, but follow the stream far enough, and you will encounter a particularly abrupt upswing in the trail's steepness, and a simple, stark sign warning not to proceed any further, or be fired upon.

To the south of the town, following the only trail that seems to have been deliberately made into a path, there is the ruins of what may have once been some form of lodge. However, the building has been gutted by fire, leaving only ashes and blackened timber - an empty shell. The one thing that's clear is that whatever the building was, it was rather large, the wreckage indicating a number of distinct 'rooms'. The entire place is quietly ominous, unhelped by the pines encroaching on the ruins, nor the fact that the layout of the ruins makes it impossible to keep an eye on the entirety of the surroundings.

The south-west of the valley is probably the most inhospitable part of the entire area. The slopes here are steep and covered in detritus, as well as thick gorse bushes. If you somehow managed to fight your way up the shifting slopes and bristling thickets, you would reach something of a plateau giving a decent view of the surroundings... though really it probably isn't worth the difficulty of the climb.

Amongst the pine stands, there is a fairly large clearing where the trees have been cut back quite a distance. One can barely take a step without tripping over a tree stump, and the foliage is slowly reclaiming the logged area. Still, it might be a welcome sight to those dying for a glimpse of the sun.

There isn't really any other way to describe this place. In the south eastern reaches of the valley is a group of stones arrayed in a rough circle. Few of them are standing, and none of them are taller than two metres or so - the plant life growing over them would suggest that they haven't been disturbed in a long time. The circle is simply... there.