The Center Point was the anchor around which the continents floated. It was a craggy place of charcoal-colored stone run through with veins of iron ore. If it weren’t for the menagerie of demons who called the place home, it would’ve provided the gnomes an inexhaustible supply of ore they could’ve used in the production of their mechanical devices, or traded to the other races of Void.
The few expeditions that had tried to establish a beachhead on Center Point had universally met with disaster. The constant assaults by demons, lack of clean water or nutritious vegetation made habitation untenable.