A primeval forest warped by centuries of magical decay, where trees phase between visibility, plants show impossible geometries, and glitch-beasts hunt—a place of unearthly beauty and constant danger.
Once a natural forest, the Glitchwood has become something else. Its canopy shifts with the light—some trees visible only at dusk, others flickering in and out of phase with reality. Its flora grows in recursive patterns: ferns whose fronds split infinitely, flowers that bloom backward through time. The ground itself is unreliable—paths loop back on themselves, distances contract and expand, compasses spin uselessly.
The glitch-beasts that hunt here are no longer animals. Deer with antlers that branch into fractal spirals, wolves whose fur slides between fur and water and stone, birds that leave geometric scars in the air when they fly. Some hunt for food. Others seem to hunt with purpose.
The Rust Wardens maintain several outposts here to monitor the corruption's spread. The Collective uses hidden routes through the wood to move contraband. Treasure-seekers venture in hoping to find artifacts in the ancient ruins scattered through the trees. Most don't return.