If you follow the wide well traveled mountain road, you eventually find your way to Skyway. Nestled among the clouds, perched upon the mountain side, this tiny town is the key to many puzzles.
The lake of rage is just a lake, save for it’s dark powerand the dark tale that gave birth to it
This large shrine the god Sunglory, is not famous for religious reasons as for architectural reasons.
Over three hundred years after the destruction of Linnarson, the ruins of Linnarson remain deserted; the warped magical environs inhabited only by the twisted and bizarre creatures that have been created. Amongst it all, however, the Senior Masters remain, continuing their eternal pursuit of knowledge.
...In the hallowed halls of the University of Linnarson a glimpse may sometimes be caught of the Senior Masters, learned sages and masters of knowledge. They seldom leave their dusty studies full of learned tomes, other than to dine - each evening they will be found shuffling down the dimly lit corridors to the dark and shuttered Great Hall. After feasting at high table by candlelight they will be gone, returning once more to their studies. None but they know of their pact with death, how they have willingly embraced an eternal undeath in which to pursue knowledge, yet this is the reason for the darkened corridors and the shuttered hall, for those who are undead cannot abide the light of the sun…
To the primitive tribes on the plains of North, life changes rapidly from season to season. In summer, food is abundant. In the winter, death from starving is never far. A natural phenomenon helped one such tribe.
Deep in Throck forest there is a small valley filled with boulders. It is an uneasy place, full of invisible eyes. In the damp behind one of these boulders is a wooden door, virtually impossible to find, which leads down into the Kingdom of the Gnomes.
The home of the reclusive Monk-Smiths of Moldan, unparalleled practitioners of the art of smithing.
The ruins of the lands that bore the confrontation between the Mad God of Avarice and the Storm Queen, this place has been soaked by the divine essence of two of the most chaotic gods.
Ringed round by ancient political foes, this ancient nation finds itself dealing with a powerful foe, one with far more sinister hungers than money or land.
It is said that there is always night, even during the day it is dark. Undead prowl around freely, and pity to those living that end up there. Still, lucky are those eaten by the hordes, some fools get deeper and their very souls are consumed by the nameless horrors that lurk in some hidden spots. And still more serve as new material for the Necromancers, the only living creatures there, as they say at least…
Vernae is a forested island which, centuries ago, became the home to refugees from the civilised lands far to the east.
Where is the Land That Forgets? Nobody can remember…
A beautiful, broken land tended by feudal families. Densely forested, this land holds many mysteries in the areas not cleared, and some mysteries are dangerous.
This village is at the far northen extent of civilized lands. Far Tragin is within the Northern Wastes and is constantly plauged by danger. The folk who survive here are the hardest you will find.
New Herbia is a new expanding town founded by a two adventurers who accidently destroyed the town that used to be there. Now it is larger and more popular than ever…
The forest of Halëfas is a strange place indeed. It has long been inhabited by the forest elves, a race of elves descended from the high elves that have lived for over 9000 years isolated there. This wood is patroled by a groupe of expert rangers who know the forest well, Tred lightly and unthreateningly here for you may find your end in Hathil’S arrow.
The beautiful garden underground in which the Understar and her 9 Monsters are imprisoned.
There lies a valley, far to the west, on the shores of The Great Northern Sea, that has a mist that is both blessing and curse. All those that breath the mist heal with remarkable speed, so fast that only the mightiest blow or the truest strike can fell the smallest beast. The warriors who settled this land became soilders of great renown, for not only were they impenetrable defenders, they were warriors whose aim and might were unsurpassed.
And behold the fabled mists of the necromatic sorceror, E’grole. Fifteen square miles do they span, the unnaturally thick, eerie fog instilling a sense of dread in even the most hardy of adventurers.