[Island 1]

[Lazarette Gulch]

[Island 3]

Lazarette Gulch
Heaven for the Drowned

Lazarette Gulch--oft shortened to "Lazar Town", "Lazar Gulch", or simply "The Gulch"--was a middlingly successful stab at a small-scale utopia, before it was abandoned to the whims of the Wizened Temple Cult.
It now exists in an isolated limbo, lorded over by Alasdair Templeton, presumably. It's immolation is referred to (in the relevant circles) as "The Great Severance". Prior to said Severance, the Gulch subsisted on the fish and farm-stuffs it produced, among a variety of imported goods. There are no reports from Lazar Town after the G.S, but theoretically, there exists enough fish and functional farmland to survive it’s population basically forever, albeit unhappily… though one imagines that this might be in some ways the point. The land of Lazar Gulch is owned by a cluster of cultists that, on the day of the Great Severance, were entrusted with W.T’s entire fortune--courtesy of A. Templeton, (whose personal capital had grown exponentially due to the "abandon-to-us-all-earthly-possessions" policy of the W.T). These “Arbiters”, as they were termed, were tasked with constructing census data, upholding tax-flow, and providing other mischellaneous essentials to the regional bureauocracy. Otherwise, they would ensure that money bred money, that Lazar Gulch was secure, and that it was forgotten by the world outside. A reasonable idea, as it’s not like the Gulch was especially conspicuous before the G.S--all that was observed was an abrupt end to the flow of fish and farm-stuffs, and though questions arose, they were quickly cut to dust by the Arbiters, until none remained. There exists a large collection of posters, radio advertisements, and video cartridges at the homes of most Arbiter families, preserved for posterity. Otherwise, their work has been absolute.
The world has forgotten the Wizened Temple.

We do not know what is in the Lazarette Gulch.

We can infer that it's not quite the place of contented union it once was.

What a tragedy. --Excerpts from Paul Copeland's "On Nazareth"