At the edge of the great discord

"The white flats lie just beyond Aava, a vast space of nothing but the raging gods, a battlefield of the sky, earth and water. It seems so unlike anything else in existence that you cannot help but to wonder what lies in the middle of it, in the direction where all the winds and clouds seem to originate from. Why do such forces roam here and keep anything from coming too close. Indeed, the flats can turn into an ocean without warning, the rolling clouds pouring rain all over its salty surface, turning the sands into a mixture and salt and mud that will suck your legs in. After such rains the entire surface of the flats seems like a mirror, lacking the waves that are common to oceans, or any bodies of water for that matter. My feet are sore just from walking short distances across the space, as the crystals of salt prick and stab at your soles, making traveling here an arduous errand, one that makes one feel as if they are challenging the gods themselves, who seemingly with all their might turn and toss this place and make it into something unbearably hostile to anything that lives. "