In a world where teleportation magic doesn’t exist, the opportunity to travel a few days journey in moments is beyond value. With only a simple toll, you can be practically on the doorstep of Nizul-tibi before you know it.
A place where no one knows about or finds until the Circle chooses a person to discover it. For the Circle of Culthus has a purpose for that person, and letting other people know of it or discover it would hinder that purpose.
Triastu. The City of the Three. The Hallowed City. Triastu is the holy city of Trianarianism, and is the home of the Trirex. Many have paid homage to it, and many have gone on pilgrimages to it, and have marveled in its beauty.
What danger lurk within the ruined city streets?
Sharp thorns, tangled vines, and lost secrets.
As with many small towns Clarksdale has its share of secrets. Travellers that pass through are treated warmly, and are encouraged to stay for the upcoming celebration...
The adventurer rode into the golden-hued glade, looking around. If the tribesman he had 'persuaded' to help him hadn't been lying, it should be here. Ah, there it is, he thought. A small pool, with no inlet or outlet. Dismounting, he looked into the crystal-clear water. He could see goldfish swimming around, and beneath them the bottom was covered with golden statues of men and women, mostly nude but some with a kilt or loincloth.
“I'm rich,” he exulted. “That damn tribesman didn't die in vain!” He stripped off his clothes and armor, noting in passing that the ground was mounded, here and there, with weapons, armor, and other items, mostly rusted or rotted by time, and dove into the pool to begin gathering up his wealth.
Silence fell over the glade as the new statue settled onto the others littering the bottom.
An enchanted forest where music permeates the fabric of life, leaving its mark on fauna and flora alike.
This is a quiet place in the forest of Kaarengard, an Inn where mostly rangers, woodsmen and the occaisonal adventurer spend their evenings, swapping tales of adventure and spreading the latest news.
The villagers are having a fit, they've found something in the woods!
There are many scret places in the old forests; the least of which is by no means Old Stone Face
A forest of perpetual Autumn
The establishment is run by an elderly goblin named Sax Stoneswiller. Providing this service to non-goblins is much more lucrative than what he was able to receive with his clan.
Alia exclaims, "What a gruesome sight!" and points to a brook filled with gravestones - some still upright while others are knocked over.
Spots of perfect green. The Ankorillian Islands. Jewels of the Blue.
Celebrations can be found everywhere: from the big city to your local township. Sometimes the smaller locales can have the richest of all celebrations since they are more personal. Dayern’s Hamlet is one of those places.
"It is amazing to me how this one little stretch of water has changed the course of history," History of The New Country by Collen D’Madden Blue Diamond Press
A moving island, and home to both the honorable Lizardfolk and the evil Cult of Dar’Orgath.
A wild species, vinus homophagus, more akin to sea-grape rather than the terrestrial variety, is not a monster despite its fanciful name. The grapes, a deep purple color when in bloom, and oozing dewdrops of perspiration, like the most prized and delectable of drinking wine grapes, do however deserve their moniker. Wine made from this fruit, is deadly to most humanoids, as is the raw berry, if plucked and eaten from the vine. It is the unnatural chemical concoction found within the fruit’s tart skin, which gives the man-eating grape its name. The chemical stew found inside each berry, functions as a necrotic agent, the same as found in some species of venomous snakes. The grapes literally eat the victim from the inside out, via cell death, dissolving organs and flesh in quick succession.
The tribes of Pra-Oohk Crater, from the jungles of Ghlush are known to sell the fermented “wine” of this grape to merchants of distant lands. Sadly, the taste of the concoction is divine when first quaffed, and even worse, the man-eating grape wine will never detect as poisonous via mundane means, its horrid natures somehow masking all attempts. Luckily the man-eating grapes are extremely rare, and endemic to humid jungles.