The Skerries of the Whistle-men
Off the coast of Khimurc, floating amidst the fearsome shallows of the long strait Bralenc are an archipelago of flat rocky isles known by no other names than The Skerries of the Whistle-men. When vessels draw near to these islands, a chilling cacophony of high and low pitched tunes strike fear into the hearts of sailors. Advancing any closer will land yourself on the gravel coast of these flat islands.
They are almost lifeless and desolate, save for the molds, mosses and lichens. Advancing past the coast will reveal a flat gray expanse where the Whistle-men lurk. They are a hideous sight, appearing as lanky, emaciated humanoids with distorted faces and skin the colour of boot polish. Their emaciation is perhaps because they subsist solely on the moss and lichen, and fertilize them with their own spittle. As you would expect, they are puny and feeble. Otan the Younger was apalled by their apparent starvation, and offered them some of his fruit and cheese rations, which they refused.