For generations, the very worst criminals met their end at the Gallows Tree. It stands at the end of long road. Which road? Depends on who you ask. It never seems to be in the same spot these days, and it lays Beyond the Wall now.
Besides it's variable locale, the area around the tree seems to have its own rules. The air switches between a foul, almost unbreathable miasma and the perfume of flowers. Time is off. Hours may pass in the blink of an eye, or not pass at all.
Some people hear voices or hysterical laughter. Sometimes corpses hang from branches, dripping blood and offal, but most times not.
So, traveller, if your road leads you to a dark, leafless tree, step off the road and find another path.
Those Who Quit the Game
9 hours ago