Pomelo's nightmare kingdom is a greco-roman-styled temple town, with all buildings smashed and ruined. The smears of soot on marble, broken pottery, and trinket-littered interiors gives the impression of a long-ago raid; to look over her demense is to see a vast meadow smattered with regal buildings and pillars crushed beneath boulders, striking a harsh contrast with siege weaponry half-buried in the endless grass. Dredges of once-grand ships both mercantile and warfaring form jagged cliffs against the otherwise placid horizon of the crystalline ocean surrounding her island.

Yet time has allowed some beauty to overtake the devastation. The daytime sky is bright with faintly-golden sunlight that not even rainclouds can sully. Nights are measured and calm, with bright moonlight that dyes the land in myriad hues of indigo and azure.

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In the largest intact structure, Mel has repurposed what was once a holy temple into a bathhouse, open to all who seek indulgence, contentment and relaxation. The Carousel affectionally calls her demense "The Bitter White Rind."

The "Rind" are the lowland coasts and pale beaches along the shore. These are open for all to take their ease, but with caution: they are barely policed and, if any interlopers exist in this place, they will be found along the shoreline. This is also the most common port of call for newcomers to the nightmare - unless you are given a token by Pomelo herself, you will find yourself washed up on the beach, disoriented and cast away...but inexorably drawn inland by soothing scents, and lilting laughter.

One ring inward is the "White", an area rebuilt by Mel into a series of baths, saunas and spas. These may or may not be attended, but are always warm and regularly patrolled by the amused Carousel. Anyone is welcome to enjoy the company of the baths, as long as you cause no trouble. Here, too, there may be the occasional unaccounted-for danger, but most of the interest in the White comes from stray interactions between wandering guests.

In the center of the Nightmare, the beating heart of that former temple, is "The Bitter". This is Pomelo's sanctuary, an inn and tavern tucked beneath a weather-worn signpost that bears the Nightmare's name. The first floor is dedicated to a bar, the home to Mel's secret passion: the mixing of drinks, the creation of spirits and potions that woo the senses and fortify the humors of her guests. The Carousel loves her little den of spirits and alchemy, and rarely allows anyone behind the palatial bar counter. She is happy to seat anyone in front of it, however, and loves to hear their stories and weather their woes. Just ask, and she will mix up a little something to suit any mood one brings before her.

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The topmost floor of the temple, half-crumbled and open to the air, houses Mel's private quarters. Intrusion there is neither wanted, nor advised. It would be a shame to affront the hospitality of such an excellent host.