Far from Panem stands a long-abandoned city in a somewhat tropical climate. Nature has taken over and although many buildings are still standing, they are almost unrecognizable behind the trees and plants growing around them. The buildings are a curious mix of brick, stone, glass and metal, with some constructions towering several stories into the sky. Aside from the Cornucopia area, the whole place is very crowded, with vegetation jostling for the light. It is almost impossible to walk five paces in a straight line without finding some sort of obstacle; collapsed rubble, thick tree roots, vines, perhaps even an overturned car. What little ground is clear looks to have once been bitumen, although this is now broken and ruptured. In places, the cracks jut so far out of the ground that they cause a major obstacle.
The vegetation is largely reminiscent of a jungle, and on the signal, specially adapted mutts will roam comfortably around the area. The city was abandoned in a rush and the Gamemakers have largely not modified it, except with some traps around certain buildings, which means there are supplies that look like they could have been hoarded in case of a nuclear war holed up in containers, as well as some very scarce entries to the underground.
Thick vines tangle over everything, holding the crumbling city together with their vice like hold. Some of there are several feet thick, others are thin and supple. The vines are able to be controlled from the Gamemaker’s sanctum, and could prove dangerous.
Aside from the mutts, there is very little fauna, apart from some venomous - though not fatal - bugs, which are largely quite big and colourful, although some of the vines can resemble snakes to frightened tributes.
The weather is mostly very sunny and warm, though it is hard to tell under the canopy of thick, hardy trees and buildings and the floor is surprisingly dark, with only the occasional beam of natural light filtering through. Some of the streetlights still standing flicker intermittently throughout the night season, although the light they cast is weak and pale. A shimmering river trudges through the arena, largely disguised by the canopy of trees so that the water is dappled with light. Rainstorms are frequent and some of the less intact buildings flood. Tributes should not struggle with lack of water.
In a straight, unblocked line, the diameter of the arena is about a day's walk. However, realistically it would take perhaps double that to walk from one side to the other. The whole place is distinctly haphazard, the streets jumbling and twisting throughout the arena. Combined with the semi permanent twilight beneath the vegetation, tributes will become disorientated very quickly.
It’s a confusing, alien world. On the upside, shelter is abundant. But who knows what - or who - might be lurking in the perpetual shadows?
The cameras flicker on; in a patch of specially cleared ground dominated by a glimmering golden horn, twenty four teenagers rise to the surface and blink in shock.
The countdown begins.