Yar…I do indeed know of Crossbones Isle, stranger. But ye’d be better suited to avoid that place like a widowed wench.
The Dragon Isles consist of no less than thirty or so separate islands, of varying sizes, in a fifty-mile chain running on an approximately north-south line about thirty miles off of the eastern coast.
The Wastes can be beautiful. Here the land is toxic: slowly corrosive to the touch, causing illness and death with prolonged contact. The bubbling sulfur and ectomass pools (HellPits too) are especially lovely, if you have the right aesthetic. The soil is soft and any heavy object slowly sinks. If it was not for the special resources here (dyes, alchemical elements, resins, Grimrock, Verner glands, etc), it would be a place that no one would come.
Beringia, the sinking kingdom.
An area known for its exceptional steel work. It is named after the main city in the region.
To be sure, the Dirdums are fair teeming with goblins.
Captain Wandern, ship’s log.
The city of Stoneholt is generally considered one of the Wonders of the World, but it conceals a second wonder - a labyrinth of massive sewers and storm drains greater then anything man has built.
The Sorcery Springs Geyser Basin is a place of bubbling magical water, as every individual spring or pool has it’s own magical power. It is a place of great wonder and for the careless, great danger too.
For centuries, sailors have told the tale of this isle’s sole inhabitant, a madman who searches for the solution to an ancient puzzle.
"Summon the Legions! We shall offer battle within Bleak Vale! This time, OUR cause shall triumph!"
In an age of sail, one of the most important of resources is a source of tall, straight and strong trees for use as masts. Mastwood island is one such location.
Sometimes, gentlemen, you must find yourself a location beyond the reach of the law. I’m sure you understand. Those dreadful precautions, the endless nagging, sometimes it’s simpler to just do what you need to do.
Sailors long to visit the idyllic islands of the generous Zwitter folk…
The great cone of steam, fire and ice.
The valley of the elves between Night and the Waterfalls
Behind the plains, beyond the mountains, and far after many leagus of the sea, is a place like you wouldn’t believe… (STUB)
I tell you, I get this itch on my lip when I think about Sgriob and the waters of the casks…
Captain Wandren, Ship’s logs
Wise travelers know to pass wide around Destinen Wood, for few have emerged unscathed from that accursed forest.
The Grand Forge of Karak is known more generally as the Forge of Woe, for none can use it and remain untouched.
The hatreds of men have made this island paradise into a quagmire of poverty and corruption.
A caravan is traveling through the desert. The party is hired to capture a man who is in the caravan, and it must be done quietly, so that nobody else knows. They are given the man's name, and the fact that he is a mage, but no other information about him. The catch is that the caravan consists of ten wagons, with at least thirty or forty guards.