He's walked through some of their memories and some of their creations in the Horizon. Parts of it are familiar, like the fields of horses Julie holds in her memories, and others are utterly foreign, like the sprawling grey-stone landscapes of glass and lights and vehicles.
"We call it the Continent," he replies. "Not too different than this place. Monsters, magic, kingdoms. Further north than Cadens."
No deserts anywhere nearby. Not like this, with a scorching sun and arid soil. Even the southernmost area of the landmass, where Nilfgaard sits, gets its share of snow in the winters and rains in the spring.
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He's walked through some of their memories and some of their creations in the Horizon. Parts of it are familiar, like the fields of horses Julie holds in her memories, and others are utterly foreign, like the sprawling grey-stone landscapes of glass and lights and vehicles.
"We call it the Continent," he replies. "Not too different than this place. Monsters, magic, kingdoms. Further north than Cadens."
No deserts anywhere nearby. Not like this, with a scorching sun and arid soil. Even the southernmost area of the landmass, where Nilfgaard sits, gets its share of snow in the winters and rains in the spring.