Where Gods go to Grieve
"We came expecting a broken moon or wayward asteroids, but this... I don't think anyone's seen anything of its like. There's an astounding amount of material here. We're looking in the records, trying to match some of the artifacts, but there's nothing like it. I don't know what most of this does, but my God is it complex. We're looking at, at least, what, two decades of potential salvage, maybe more, then the cartography of the local moon for more. We're definitely here to stay."
- Phaeton Venator, recovered personal log
An industrious colony of Gnomes have managed to turn a hostile environment into a bread basket.
The hyperborean realm of the Eternal Flame
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).
Rumors of the closed city are whispered on the mouths of the other races, however no one will ever find a dwarf that will say one word about it.
Seven wonders of the Dwarven World
Somewhere along the line, someone decided that a giant swimming pool would make a great place for a rave club
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?
Come, join in our discussion. We're composing a list to categorize the different lunatics that spill their inane natter here. You fit in where did you say?
The Sanguis Islands is an archipelago nation. Dangerous to sail through them, the people who live there are self-sufficient, independant, stuborn, and resilient.
A grab-bag of draconic goodness, ready to plug into a variety of settings from Steam-Punk to Modern to Fantasy.
"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
One of the largest and most famous cryodetention centers operated by Creative Incarcerations Corp
An overview of the environs and settings of the Cosmic Era on a meta level
An underground club, meeting place, and fortress
"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.
A certain culture has a curious pass-time- muscle art.
Muscle artists (who are called by a special name) work hard to sculpt their bodies, trying to become as muscular and buff as possible. The best among muscle artists look almost grotesque in their amazing muscularity, Atlas-like giants with shiny, oiled iron arms and legs.