The Coalition - An evil realm of goblyns, bandits, ogres and others loosely united under one banner.
Kingdoms tied by the bonds of blood and war
The island of Redhaven can be seen from miles away in summer as the sun gleams on the marble villas of the rich, and it’s main port is said to be the most busy in Acqua during working hours.
Founded on the promise of prophecy, this fiefdom owes it success to its previously worthless amethyst deposits. And its very survival as well.
Death and horror await the unwary in the tropical forests of the Kwan-Zhanalin peninsula.
From a former Imperial Satrapy to the Kingdom of Trinistine, Falhath has had a colorful and varigated history.
The Province of Ardamoth, or Ardamien as is the modern name, was the first of the Old Continent settlements on the Dhargenaas Continent. Of course the Imperials from Aumethorion had already founded the Careshian Empire (The Southern Empire) and the Belemarians had founded the Empire of Belemar, but the Ardamians were the first from the Old Continent and arrived just 10 years after the landfall.
The Province of Silmar is the cold and windswept area from the tip of Cape Murder in the North, to the Imperial Border in the south. Silmar is a place of suspicions and of persecutions; a place where magic users are burnt at the stake and crusades are launched frequently. The reasons for the crusades may wary, but the basics remain the same; the lure of the dark arts has consumed someone and a Crusade must be launched to purge that which has succumbed to darkness.
Arshii’j Daru is the capitol of the empire of the Daruni, a jungle state lying to the south of the Holy Land, and home of a staunch Qoruxi state. Waves of invaders have enriched the culture and history of the state and created a powerful kingdom capable of withstanding both the assault of the Qoruxi raiders of the Holy Land and the assault of the Meixingu Holy War.
-WARNING: VERY LONG AND VERY COMPLEX-
A bastian of hope in a place of hardened souls. With enemies at one point surounding the entire country, the citizens of Kerrabar stood strong and fought their way to independence and proceeded to expand and push back the dark horde that rose against their small nation.
Aviontix is designed to be an "ancient kingdon" to be inserted into a game world as history. However, you can make it a current game world, if you want.
High in the Gralbak mountains live the Yale Riders, a reclusive tribe of gnomes who have succeeded in taming the wild yales of the mountains. Skilled riders of their agile beasts they are excellent hunters and warriors, though they do have a firm tradition of hospitality.
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…
The forest of HalÃ«fas 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.
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.
Wytchwolde-Under-Ash, once a great Thorpe, was razed to the ground by the ruthless, and truth told more than slightly deranged, Porcelain Princess and her henchmen, the Purifiers. When the flames had at last subsided, and a kaleidoscope of swirling, dull-gray ash choked the sky, nine hundred acres of old growth iron spruce, black larch and weeping birch, was burned to utter cinders, along with the entire coven of witches comprising the Sisterhood of the Silver Teat.
Now, centuries later, the forests are somewhat re-grown, and the town of Foolswater stands where Wytchwolde-Under-Ash once did. It is said that even to this day, one can still find ashes in the otherwise potable well-water of this village. Once a year during the Winter Solstice, the “Ash-Wind” comes to Foolswater, a suffocating black cloud that passes quickly but leaves dead birds and animals in its wake, darkening the trees, and staining the sky with black snow. The inhabitants of the village know better than to be caught outside during the day-long Ash-Wind. Everyone is locked snugly inside, singing old hymns that curse and re-curse the burned witches who once called this place home.