The hallmark of a new Alliance; a safe place for the men of words to meet.
A fey kingdom fallen, with winter triumphant. A dream frozen, to be thawed by might and heroic deed.
No walls as far as the eye can see, no gate nor fence, only the mists and wind roam free over the open lands of Kevvar.
When society keeps getting more cosmopolitan, cities of mixed racial makeup start to appear. Neighborhoods dedicated to specific races will occur.
The place where the Sun-Lord Tacontar first spoke to his flock, and centre of his religion, heart and soul of a nation.
Concealed in a fold of space, there, watching, lies, a haven - refuge for a select few, as well as the most precious thing in the world.
Perhaps the product of another universe or time, this vessel appears as an early Tall ship, but is made of iron from keel to spar. The sails are a battered canvas but are nearly indestructible, but in truth do little to move the ship - the ship is able to move even with no winds.
The ship is powered by life force, requiring regular sacrifices to ‘charge’. The victims are cast in front of the vessel as it moves, it’s razor sharp bow bisecting them. The ship may initially be missing key components and the ritual to power it would also require research by would-be users.
The ship has no built in weapons aside from the bow, which can easily cut even large wooden ships in twain.