A cool, Northern land, populated by the strange Maskenfolk
A Sundered Realm, flotsam of a world.
The fort seemed like every small boys dream, but in fact it was a very well made magical prison, and the young prince only learned the truth when it was too late and the magic sucked him inside, his cries from his now inch high body too quiet to be heard.
"Has he got any magic stuff on him?" the librarian asked. "You know, magic sword or wand or such?"
"Of course," Glacier answered, annoyed at the question. Dragus the Reaving Knight wielded the Black Sword as everybody knew. "What's that got to do with anything?"
The librarian smiled. "Well, that just made finding him much easier, that's all. See, what you need is the Books of the Holders."
Umbra may have trapped Prima's body, but she is free in her village of dreams.
Located in the Eurasian Alliance Balkanistan Principality, Vetmuara BioSciences is the bottom of the barrel for human cloning.
" As long Mriulnarth still stand, damnation will always occur "
- Emperor Averemarn I
Seven wonders of the Dwarven World
"Living in a town that sits on a dimensional nexus can wear thin after a while. It's not so much the crawling shadows, bizarre weather, or late night visitors from places that never existed; but carrying on with your normal life and trying to act like nothing out of the ordinary is going on in your little corner of the world that gets to you."
A small rural town with surreal secrets, that happens to be situated on a dimensional crossroads, suitable for modern day supernatural/mystical/horror campaigns.
A build a mile tall with 50,000 people in has a lot of room for action and intrigue
"Some call it 'the Realm of the Builders' - the Ark refers to it as 'Dius Factorsitius Terravae' or 'The Forge of Worlds.' My opinion? Well, I think it's more of a garden, to be honest."
-Author Dreu, van Heinhelm Household Cleric
A new take on hell that leaves you gasping on the edge of panic.
Those cast out of eternal life by the Great God Juffo find themselves lost forever in the Non. Here, away from both His Holy Warmth and the cold, harsh vengance of His Adversary, Zeln, there is truly nothing.
A soul that feels no remorse for the sins it has committed in life is unfit for paradise in the afterlife. Only those who fully grasp the weight of the harm they have visited upon others and repent are offered a chance at atonement. Only those who atone for their sins are allowed to move on.
-- The Book of Reprieve, 11:36:01
The Box is a Hell of isolation, claustrophobia and imprisonment. Where you will find many who fear tight spaces.
The 5757h layer of the Infinite Abyss. A land of charred black metal and the stench of ever-burning flesh.
"The Warriors of Greece shall never tire, and shall return our motherland to its proper place as the light of the world, and us to our place as the master race in this time of restlessness and walking death!"rn-Official Peloponnesian Superiority Party propaganda
Glistening in the light of Acheron, the crystalline structure of the Atrium is a fragment of Earth, carried across the void; a snapshot of green and blue amid the pale tans and reds of Tarterus, a promise and a dream.
It was three years ago that I entered that strange door… and I have not found my way back home since then.
A college campus for modern day settings, where things are more than they seem at first glance. (Good for a horror or mystery setting)