The Tasgusun Hills rise above the endless grassland of the steppe to roll and ripple across the landscape. Not so the Dumum Range. These are true mountains, vast and towering. They run across the northern third of Shdustu, in the west, a north-south eruption from the steppe that terminates somewhere in the distant north amid endless forest in lands where it is claimed the ground never thaws. Though much of the range is low, lines of peaks in the east and west rise quite high, with many remaining covered in snow throughout the year, in spite of the immense length of high summer days this far north. Numerous high valleys and plateaus between these peaks bear no soil or vegetation, but are instead covered in vast iceflows the size of mighty lakes called glaciers. Such immense collections of whiteness are found only in terribly high and cold places, and steal the breath from the lungs. Though the peaks of the Dumum Range cannot match the greatest towers of the Shdrast far to the west, with air atop their summits still steady rather than gasping, they nevertheless serve as a mighty barrier. The snow that falls here piles high on the glaciers and between the slope-covering trees. Its melt serves as the source of the mighty Shdulus River.

The mountains are primarily covered in forest, an alpine coniferous canopy of pines and spruces for the most part. As the slopes rise and the chill deepens these trees grow ever more thin and ragged, and in the upper regions many surrender entirely, leaving behind high meadows with strange grasses and curious flowers to grow in the lee of the ice. The soil here is thin and stony, with many bogs in recessed areas where meltwater accumulates during its slow and complex paths to the river below. To walk through these mountains makes for difficult footing, and there are few places suited for the cultivation of crops. Barley and millet cling to certain hillsides or meadows opened by fire, and the Bahab plant and harvest these regions sporadically, but the mountains belong to hunters, not farmers.

Such a life style is possible only in Shdustu's mountains. Water, gathered here by great northern storms that unleash themselves against the peaks every year, means that even in the height of summer the land never grows parched. Game is abundant throughout all seasons, as are fish in the alpine lakes and marshes. The hunter's life is very hard, but those who have spent their lives learning this land can survive here, and in some numbers, so long as they are careful to avoid depleting the flocks and herds, as the revelation guides. Though the true number of the Bahab is not large, I doubt the collected strength of all their tribes could fill a single significant city, their presence is noticeable throughout the mountains. Their mastery of smithing, for iron veins are abundant in the mountains and easily reached, grants them influence over a considerable portion of Shdustu and allows them to stand strong against the far more numerous Kharal and Nikkad.

Though the weak soil and howling winds keep the trees of the mountains short save in rare sheltered canyons, pines can grow thick here. Whole forests of seedlings may sprout when a tree falls or fire clears an exposed slope. This makes movement through the woods difficult. There are no roads, only narrow trails, and as the Bahab mostly journey on foot these are poorly suited to horses or camels. Pack animals must be led carefully, and often the lead traveler need cut away overhanging branches with every step. Caravans almost universally avoid this land, unwilling to engage in such slow and tiresome cutting. Traders are content to let the Bahab bring their goods to Dumumshtu, which they often do during the winter, driving sleds over the snow or loading burdens onto the great white-furred short-faced bears they raise and train alongside their warriors. These terrifying creatures are the mystically shifted descendants of cave dwelling bears now gone from the wild. Though the mountains, especially those alpine meadows hosting berry bushes, are primary bear territory, the only such animals amid these peaks belong to the hunters.

Wolves, by contrast, are common. These are different from their cousins on the open steppe, being paler, larger, and possessed of broad paws below a slender stance. This seems to aid their motion through the tight forest, though they lack the open running speed of those on the steppe. They hunt mainly deer, but also the horned sheep of the high valleys and the very large wapiti, whose bulls are equal in size to a warhorse. Many smaller animals, including marmots, find their way into wolf jaws as well. The forest is dangerous to most large animals and the local deer are small, while the sheep and wapiti require open space on its upper edge to survive. Smaller creatures burst from every crevice and hole. Marmots and rodents are sufficiently numerous that their calls can be heard constantly, and their predators fox and marten are glimpsed regularly despite their elusive nature. The furs of such beasts are a major source of clothing to the Bahab and are also used heavily in trade. The birds that dwell here mostly fly far to the south in the winter, but in the summer the forest bursts with the cries of thousands of throats bent in song. These congregate most often along the winding streams and high lakes, though the high circling falcons and eagles seem especially fond of plunging waterfalls. Birds take much advantage of the short season of plenty, remaining active from dawn to dusk despite a day that may stretch to twice as long as the nights. The absence of ice is all that they require to trigger a profusion of activity, with many waterfowl swimming blissfully in lakes despite water that retains swift-killing cold. A similar status impacts the fish within those murky waters. The Bahab do not much fish through ice holes, a practice apparently common among the tribes of the northern forest, but they eagerly put out canoes onto the lakes in summer and harvest the trout runs of the streams alongside their companion bears. The latter is a sight to see, though not close up.

Villages surrounded by tall spiked palisades dot the mountains, hidden near fast-running water along the rare streams that do not freeze solid in the winters. They are not large settlements, with even the greatest holding fewer than one thousand lives. They are not maintained permanently, and village locations undergo a period of abandonment following habitation that may last as long as a generation depending on the fertility of the surrounding mountains. No patch of forest can sustain a Bahab village for long, and all move in under ten years, often no more than five. The Bahab grow vegetables in small garden plots both within and without their palisades and live in steep-sided houses combining earth walls and a raised frame of poles covered in fabric and thatch. An entire extended family sleeps within in tight quarters, together beneath furs and blankets. Though a modest portion of their cloth, mostly Nikkad linen, is acquired through trade, the mountain dwellers rely primarily on furs and hides to produce clothing, blankets, and other fabric crafts. They are fine leatherworkers, and fear not the stink of the tannery. Some of their hides are acquired in trade with the Kharal, who possess a surplus beyond their ability to easily work, and these are often traded back at a profit once converted to finished form. Fine bowcases made from horse leather of Bahab manufacture are notably prized by Kharal warriors.

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Bows are a weapon very much in evidence in the mountains. While the Bahab of the Tasgusun Hills relied heavily on spears and polearms, those in their home territories are much more likely to wield great bows. These nearly match the height of the hunters and are formed from narrow-grained wood supplied by a tree whose identity is hidden from outsiders. Heavy maces with banded iron heads and brutal spikes also become common, for these are carried by the shaggy, half-feral warriors who charge into battle alongside the great bears and massive snarling wolfhounds, cracking helmets and armor that their animal allies fail to tear apart. Scale armor, made of bronze or iron, is common, especially among elites. This may be supplemented by simple plated gauntlets and pauldrons. All such armor is draped with a thick padding of furs that conceals and silences the hunter's movements in addition to providing critical warmth. Most Bahab warriors also wear thick cloaks, with full hoods, for they often find themselves fighting off Kharal incursions in truly frigid conditions.

In addition to their proximity to water, villages are usually located near mines. Though veins of iron seem to abound throughout the Dumum Mountains, they are preferably accessed in places where sheer walls of stone, carved out by some ancient motion of towering, crushing ice, have been cracked and exposed to easy reach of pick and shovel. A most curious phenomenon. Several Bahab shamans claimed to me that the glaciers move up and down the mountains, and the presence of stones floating within those walls of ice suggests some such capability, but if this happens it must unfold over centuries or millennia. To even measure the least motion might well take decades of continual observation. Such knowledge will await the dedication of a scholar of greater diligence than myself, one willing to reside in these mountains for a lifetime.

Those great walls of ice, which cling to the high peaks like leeches, seem almost eternal as the mountains themselves. They deserve greater mention, but that shall necessarily wait, for they are found deeper in the Dumum Range, and the expedition did not venture upon them for some time.

The Bahab are a people united in way of life, language, and their peculiar religious heresies, but like all of Shdustu's peoples they lack political unity and are divided to the point of regularly fighting among themselves. Their circumstances seem to lie somewhere between that of the Kharal and Nikkad. Each village is controlled by a singular chieftain, who critically serves as the leader in times of war. These chieftains do not stand alone like most Nikkad princes but instead weave a complex series of alliances among themselves, based primarily on the ability of hunters from each villages to claim prizes in the annual great hunts that take place shortly following the new year. Bears were once the most valuable target of the hunt, but these have now been seemingly extirpated from the portions of the mountains the Bahab claim. Wolves have largely replaced them, along with lynx. The winner of these hunts gathers together the sons of his rivals and forms them into a joint warband under his command for the year. It was just such a band that served beside Lady Indili and myself in plundering the wizard-king tombs. These joint bands serve as informal hostages to maintain allegiance behind the victorious chief, though sons have been sacrificed many times in the past when a chieftain believes circumstances demand it.

Though Bahab war parties occasionally raid Kharal who enter the high meadows or the Nikkad settlements located on the edge of the mountains, they mostly fight among themselves. The prizes of such bloody skirmishes atop the snows are the right to key resources. Mines are the most obvious, but this also includes fishing rights to streams featuring large trout runs, and timber stands that produce bowstaves. These exchanges are recorded in chants by their shamans, for these people have no letters of their own. Violence of this kind increases significantly in bad years, when the winters stretch out long and it seems spring will never come. When this happens old men don their best furs, take up their weapons, and march out to the steppe in the desperate hope of securing livestock from the Kharal. They will fight until they either achieve glorious success or perish and thereby remove the need to fill their mouths from the duties of their families. This is called 'fighting for Ukit's mercy.'

It is a most tragic practice, not least because it is terribly misguided. The Lord of Death possesses no mercy, otherwise how could the judgment be fair? Further, the turning of the seasons is dictated by the motion of the world and the sun, which falls beneath the purview of the Lord of Sky. The grimmest of the Divines has no part in it.

The Bahab are not the only residents of the mountains. Sunfire Cultists can be found in certain places here, clinging to ancient monastery sites bound to high plateaus and cliffsides. Their lives, dependent upon herding sheep and goats over scraggly, stony ground, are truly miserable even compared to that of the poor hunters. As attacking such sites would be even more precarious than the assault on Sun-Scourged Fortress, the Bahab leave these unfortunates mostly alone. Mystic creatures found in this region include the aforementioned white bears. Most are tame, raised from birth by the Bahab, but some do escape periodically and can be found feral. Phosphene wolves also occur here, burning eyes seen glowing at night in the forests. They avoid the villages, for the Bahab hate them and will exert considerable effort to kill them. Rarely spotted, though the traces of their fur are not uncommon, are foxes large as human, bodies mostly comprised of tail. These creatures have thick and warm fur that bears a vibrant orange shade which is highly prized. Hunters pursue them relentlessly when the rumor comes of a sighting, but these are cunning beasts and highly elusive. Success is rare. Many hunters will go their whole lives without observing one of these creatures, and a successful stalk or trapping is practically legendary. Bahab stories also speak of ancient trees, thousands of years growing, that could wake up in spring and walk about as humans do while being three to five times their height and with the strength to smash boulders. Little evidence of such beings exists beyond old tales and even older images scratched into rock faces. Perhaps trees strode across the mountains once, but I do not think they do so anymore.

Tombs featuring deadly puppets, by contrast, are well known, and not all trace to ancient days. The Dumum Mountains serve as the true stronghold of wizardry in Shdustu. Terrible practitioners hold mastery over nigh-invulnerable fortresses placed at high points where they are waited upon by their servants, those desperate to bargain for their services, and the twisted monstrosities they manufacture. Among their number are those who insist on burial according to the old rites, so new tombs are still being crafted in the cliffs even today.