A description of the geography of Atreus. This sub will also be an umbrella sub for all the coming Atreus subs.

Troth Glenbeard was a dwarf with a mission. And that was destruction.

From there, things happened. And the Irondeeps got a Subterranean-Transport-System-That-Moves-Things-Around-Faster-Than-Equine-Means (aka, in modern-speak, a subway).

The head office of the Guild, which has now spread to have a branch office in almost all countries. The idiot elves won't let us map out there forests!

What danger lurk within the ruined city streets?

The Sanguis Islands is an archipelago nation. Dangerous to sail through them, the people who live there are self-sufficient, independant, stuborn, and resilient.

"Aye, I've been to Bloodmaw. Its out in the ocean, and lies right on the Abez-Evetepor trade route. Or at least where the trade route would have been if it wasn't for Bloodmaw. Its this maelstrom, perpetually spinning and swirling, abou' 50 yards across? And the sea around the whole thing is a deep crimson. The color of blood. And around the whole thing is a storm. Some days the Bloodmaw is sated, and isn't as violent. But some days ye can't hope to survive. On bad days it can take a ship that a mile away. Thank the gods that it didn't take me."

-Old Gerald, man in the pub

"Reills. E'en the name makes me shudder. That there is unholy ground, cursed by most gods. Not even the demons and devils and the incarnations o' evil dare step foot there. Reills. You know me, I think money likes it in my pocket instead of wherever else it is. But, and I've heard rumors that say this, if theirs treasure on that ground, it ain't going in my pocket on pain o' death."

-Old Gerald, man in the pub.

"Aye, Averoth! Land of banditry and corruption. Not a place for the faint o' heart, let me tell you. So's me and me mates went for a spell in them plains. We was lookin' for treasure, see, and them rovers and corrupt barons had it. So's we went, killed a bandit or two, maybe a couple o' orc tribes, and we made a fortune. 'Course, when we hit the Capital, we lost it all to thieves, hookers, and drink, but still, the memory of the weight of that sack..."

-Old Gerald, man in the pub.