Efeterthrop is one of those places that may well be a bottomless pit of sin and squalor to most who speak of it, but to those that live and raise their own there they can see no freer place in existence. Ironically, cloaked behind a fierce sense of freedom is a strict social code none break thoughtlessly.
Azaughos was a beautiful city once, a jewel nestled in the mountains. It was a city that was built on an idea, and built with wealth, and great royal pride.
Three cities that come and go, yet never see the shining sun.
To be “On the road to Shambala” is a metaphor for seeking redemption, purification of spirit, and seeking The Great Divine. It is found in teachings of several faiths of The Great Divine and in the writings of many prophets and philosophers. It is not just a metaphor. There truly is a road to Shambala.
Deep in the rugged Thunderhead mountain range lies the valley of Akelor, once a paradise, now a battleground where reality itself struggles to contain an alien, evil infestation
An adventure, Sourcebook and Monster Compendium set in the Locastus universe
Capital city of the Coalition.
Of old, this city was the home of a coven of the Sarkukai, foul devotees of Sarku, Lord of Worms, the God of Rising From The Grave. Though they were driven out, the city remains tainted by the memory of that ghastly cult.
Life in the Two Kingdoms is polarized between the now seemingly endless conflict between the noble elves of Elvindorm and the ruthless Sidious Prax and her allies. While this is the dominant conflict, by no means is it the only one. East of these two powers, beyond the paling of the Jokulsmorder, the land is desolate and savage, with survival being a greater concern that ideals and politics. This is the hardscrabble soil that the township of Draachenhaur grew from.
While Ozea, Dreifach, and Sangreal are the main cities of Falhath, they are by no means the only ones.
O Jewel of the Mountain, forget not your storied splendor…
quote of Darak One-Eye, historian
The Mines are quite old, but even after 700 years, they still produce the Queen’s best iron ore…
Bardag Ol lies in the midst of the Adaz Pass, on the Great West Road. A product of a mixture Old Sohari architecture and frontier pragmatism, it is an interesting blend of sophisticated pomp and grizzled realism.
Avalon is set among the beautiful green rolling hills of the biome. The homes here are right out of a Maxwell Parish or Thomas Kincaide painting, little Tudor styled cottages and a quaint temple. They cluster around the central plaza, which is really just the intersection of three undertravelled Imperial roads (South to Antioch, East to the Villages, NorthEast of GreatRidge road).
Three Pines is a good sized Dwarventi Hold built into the large granite side of the mountain - its heart stone as the Dwarves say. It is not far off the Far Eastern end of the Great Road, along the Kin Side Mountains. At any given time there are about 1100 souls here, so it is not a City by Human Standards, but it is by Dwarven Standards.
This is a city on the border of the two Eleventi States, that of the Northern Ice Elves and the Southern Forest Elves. Though on the Southern side of the border, it borrows heavily from the Northern styles.
Malarith is one of the Wonders of the Manmade world, for its made by Human Hands a long time ago.
Most people assume The Marches are a broad flat plain, maybe with a few low hills. In the Northern parts, there are a few mountain spurs that creep into the plains. Chelokhan is nestled between two close mountains.
This Kerrenese town is of classic design. It’s strong walls surrond the Cluster on three side, a large rocky cliff side closes the square. The Warren is above the city, with a tourney ground on the plateu above it.
The city of pipes and light is in the Byzant Empire
A Dwarven Holding contains a single clan lodge, holding 50 to 300 people of the same clan. Norhold qualifies as a Dwarven city, as it contains five clan lodges, and clan holdings (smaller places to stay) for the the nine other clans in the region.
Sages and naturalists frown at the common name given to these strange creatures by the small folk, but sometimes the silliest nicknames for creatures, places and people persevere in the minds of many. “Purifiers”, “Pond Jellies”, “Breath-Stealers”, “Lung-Ticklers” and “River Butterflies” are much less commonly heard appellations for these life forms. Wet Faeries are basically (and simply) a species of fist-sized, fresh-water jellyfish. Several traits steer them toward the peculiar category however. Firstly, Wet Faeries are nearly invisible in the water, much like their marine cousins but even more so. One can swim in a river swarming with these critters and not even notice their presence. Secondly, they possess the unique ability to clean and purify whatever body of water they inhabit. They do this via some sort of biological filtration process, sucking in all toxins present in the water, and releasing it back in its purest form. Needless to say, they are both a blessing and a curse to whichever folk dwell beside the rivers and lakes Wet Faeries inhabit. On one hand, no purer water can be found anywhere than a Wet Faerie lake or pond, and yet, in “pure” water “life” tends in fact to die out, lacking the needed nutrients to prosper. Thirdly, their “sting” is (unfortunately) virulently poisonous to all mammalians. Wet Faeries are loathe to sting anyone or anything, using their barbed fronds as a last line of defense, but if stung, most swimmers will suffer respiratory arrest, and die within minutes, usually drowning before they can make it back to shore.
Alchemists, druids, and less savory characters have studied these creatures over the years, and have predictably found all the ways Wet Faeries could be exploited. Morbidly humorous, some bards find it, that the Poisoners and Assassins Guilds as well as the Healer’s Union, all prize these creatures. The assassins use the extracted venom in obvious fashion, while the priests and healers use the still-living jelly-fish to sterilize other poison potions and to cure those already poisoned on death’s door.
It is known that a certain Earl Von Trumble keeps his vast castle moat stocked with Wet Faeries, the waters so clear that every bone of every one of his past enemies can be clearly seen on the bottom, twenty two feet below.