From a distance, it may not seem so bizarre to find slabs of rock adjacent to a Quarry. Upon closer inspection, however, it becomes clear that these are not boulders, but carefully sculpted and arranged granite blocks which tower over the tributes. They are arranged in a circle, forming their own arena within the arena. Ribbed rippling grass forms a soft bed in the center of the ring. Tributes may lie beneath the stones for a brief respite from the sun, but be warned: there’s no shelter to be found here. (Kay)

A strangely beautiful place, the area is a flat expanse of granite in every color and size. The way the light hits the rocks gives the appearance of a glowing field of treasure, but beware of other things hidden by the land’s beauty. (Geebs)

This area of the arena is covered in dense, swirling fog. For a few brief seconds every minute it parts so that the tributes might see the rock at their feet and something more: the technicolor pools. The lake is actually series of sulphur pools, bubbling away. Their depths are turquoise and amber, pthalocyanine and marigold. Up close, the fog looks more like steam and the rotten egg smell really isn’t so bad. The pool is just begging you to take a dip, take a sip, but will you be so brave? (Kay)

The rift valley is not for the claustrophobic. The stone pass is narrow, barely wide enough for a tribute to extend their arms at their sides and not scrape the intimidating rock walls on either side. The walls are so high that it’s difficult to see what’s at the top. Really, those walls are tectonic plates, extending far deeper into the earth than anyone can imagine. Above the earth, they stare down as tributes pass between them, silent and unmoving. (Rosetta)

The quarry greets tributes like a large gaping mouth, descending into the foundation of the Arena. The ground fragments into steps that are each at least five feet high. Here, the ground is a deep, dark red, suggesting clay. As one descends the steps, the red earth becomes darker, until it’s nearly black at the base of the quarry. At the foot of the rock steps, large blocks of brown, red and gray rock sit upon a cracked, parched earth. The quarry once might have been bustling, even perhaps filled with water. Now, it’s dry as bone. (Rosetta)