The Elder Scrolls: Tamriel

This secluded dell sits, where the forest thins into wind-tossed bramble fields. A ring of ancient birches encircles a stone circle bearing Glenmoril sigils so old even the Wyrd themselves no longer speak their names aloud. No birds sing here. Time seems uncertain—clocks stall, shadows lengthen and contract—and those who camp within report the sensation of being watched by something rooted and immense just beneath the soil.