The Augury is not really a place, but we welcome you to it all the same.
Years ago, when the the towns we lived in first started to fall to the ocean of flame, we had to find somewhere to preserve what little we were able to. While they were working hard to clean the slate of all of society's ills, we began to slink away where the only shadows that could overtake us were from the tall variegated mountain peaks that now hold us gently, like elders cooing over a newborn.
We call this valley The Goblet.
It has been a place of refuge and healing since before your grandmother's grandmother was alive. The people who lived here before the settlers arrived built elaborate stone structures to welcome the weary or sick, or those seeking comfort in the ends of their days. It was somewhere between a temple and a halfway house for both the people and the spirits that gathered here. Some say that once, the Sun itself came down to dip its brow into the cool waters near the peak of the mount and soak its tired legs in the warm bath that bubbled under the eaves of the oak trees below. They say that the waters relaxed the overworked star so much, that by the time it got back up into the sky, none of the creatures on the Earth remembered what daytime looked like. That summer, every bird, butterfly, bobcat and bluebelly--and all other creatures inbetween-- turned three shades darker from all the time they spent laying out under the Sun's warm rays.
Of course, now it seems like we've never known a time the Sun wasn't engulfing us with its unbearable, searing breath.
The Goblet provides for us in many ways. Of course, the cool springs still flows from a few outlets about halfway up the mountain to our east, giving us clean water to drink, and the hot springs below us heat our home and and wash away the scourge that newcomers are plagued with.