Vineyard

Once, this must have been a beautiful place, well-loved by those who maintained it. Much like the tributes themselves, however, it has been abandoned to the wild. While most of the original vines have flourished in the freedom, growing so thick that they obscure the trellises entirely, sections of them have choked and died under the relentless advance of foreign plants and animals. Even so, the vineyard remains a haven for grapes and the paws and wingbeats of those who tend to them—and judging by the occasional susurration of the leaves, which only sometimes seems to be accompanied by moving animals, neither side has any compunction about drawing tributes into their fight.