A region of sweltering heat and a vast presence of wildlife, the Emberglade is a reminder that nature is not something to be trifled with. Here lay the bones and fossils of creatures that once were, and hidden still, what survived in the dark.

The Expanse

Towards the southeastern province sits a wide area of land that stretches before the eyes. The savannah: a vast grassy plain bathed in golden hues. The tall grasses sway and paint a landscape of green and yellow that extends across the terrain. They form a lush, undulating ecosystem that rolls and dips towards the horizon. Scattered across the savannah are groupings of trees, solitary or in small clusters. Their trunks and branches are adorned in thorns and foliage, providing sporadic patches of shade. These and the steep, stone hills break the monotony of the grassy expanse.

The savannah is home to what’s expected, with zebras and gazelles grazing the fields and elephants lumbering through the land. Ostriches, with their long necks and powerful legs, strut across the plains while predators blend into the surroundings. Lions may be spotted resting beneath the tree shade, and cheetahs slithering through the grass. Towards the north, near the hills, one can hear hyena calls bounce off stone. Here the expectations end. Among the native animals linger the remnants of a forgotten voyage: animals from the cold north to the sweeping jungles. Forever displaced, it is not uncommon to spot a Rimetroll wandering through a gathering of hippos or a rhinoceros trading blows with a minotaur.

Above, the sky stretches wide and blue, interrupted only by clouds drifting by. Seasons here do not occur as they typically do. There are no summers or winters, but instead wet and dry seasons. This is observed in the terrain. During the wet season, the grasses are lush and vibrant, reflecting a deep green color that blankets the land. In contrast, the dry season brings a transformation. The grass withers and goes golden, creating a stunning contrast against the clear blue sky.

A Fragmented Kingdom

Many moons ago, a fleet of merchant vessels departed from Vectra on a journey to Aeldin. The Dragon’s Egg Alliance, a guild of merchants who specialize in exotic creatures, was transporting a wide variety of animals when they were caught in a hateful storm that swept them off course for seven days. They shipwrecked on Aevos, but the lucky ones were swallowed by the sea. It was here on the savannah that the surviving merchants and their wares landed; beasts of every size and shape, from the winged and scaled to the hairless and pale. 

It was decided by the merchants they would come back for their game after being rescued, but the ships never came. Before long, no amount of gold could save them from the hunger of their animals. The greedy men were made meals by the creatures they had stolen from their homes, but their mistake would not end with them. To this day, many of the same creatures and their cubs roam the land, disrupting the delicate ecosystem of the savannah. In the modern era, this place is recognized as a challenge for the seasoned hunter. It is common for poachers to wander weeks through the savannah, searching for rare hides and trophies. It is even said the dormant eggs and offspring of animals not seen for centuries hide here.

Votar’s Prize

It is said among the diaspora of beasts that were let loose in the emberglade, one Scaleback Despot nearly threatened to wipe the entire ecosystem. Known as kings of the Vectran forests they originate from, this predatory Scaleback was larger than any elephant, and bore rows of great teeth that could tear into stone.These creatures stand on their two hind legs, and while their front arms are small, they make up for it with keen sense and lethal bite.

 It was on the shores of the Emberglade that Golag landed, an orc exile of clan Lur with a task bestowed unto him by a shaman priest of Votar, spirit of the hunt: slay the beast and be welcomed back home. It took less than a day for him to locate his foe. Unsurprising, for the Despot with its crimson skin resembled a moving, scaled tower more than it did the animals of the savannah. Golag prepared various traps and tools, but they would not be enough. Golag knew this. As did a lesser spirit of Votar, who had been observing the orc’s relentless dedication to his duty. One evening against the warmth of a bonfire, the lesser spirit answered Golag’s prayers with a blessed horn and a gift of endurance that would match his dedication to seeing this beast felled. What the orc gave in exchange, however, has been lost to time, leaving many to speculate.

On the first day, Golag laid only meager scratches on the beast, marks that it would forget after leaving the orc for dead. This only emboldened him. He recovered and licked his wounds and struck again and again. For weeks he would strike and the Scaleback would ravage him, only for Golag to mend his injuries and return. He did not tire. He could not. Golag could see that his attacks were starting to have an effect, he was wearing the Scaleback down little by little. The beast knew this too, a clever thing, and sought to put an end to this pest. During one last confrontation, Golag hunted relentlessly for three days, until at last the Scaleback staggered and collapsed from exhaustion and its injuries. Tragically for the orc, his own wounds were too great for the journey back.

On these foreign fields so far from home, Golag passed on under the moonlight. Yet his legend is carried on by shamans and hunters alike, tales of his struggle against an insurmountable obstacle inspiring many. It is believed that during full moons, one can still see Golag traversing the Emberglade in search of the mightiest beast to challenge.

OOC Information

The Emberglade is an open region for players and ET to run DIY events without concern for regional beasts, as well as a potential place for forgotten and rare creatures to be reintroduced through events.

Deep within Aevos is a cavern carved into the likeness of a place of worship. The Mori learned to fear this peculiar grotto, as have most wildlife, monstrosity or otherwise. To them, this place is an embodiment of death. Even the aura about the dwelling radiates a sense of impending doom. The shrine itself is a beautiful testament to the artistic and martial skill of Humanity, for it had been carved by bare hands of an ancient warrior who had sought to erect a temple for the Creator and his Faith. 

The Twenty-Seven Ends

Long ago, a mission of holymen were dispatched by the Emperor Godfrey, alongside some of his legionnaires, to spread the True Faith across the realm. Among these legionnaires was Griffith, of the House Felder. They survived the dread storm and landed on the shores of Aevos. Hopeful they disembarked, eager in their quest. Brutal weather and hostile wildlife rushed to temper their expectations. Their party found refuge in the Underdark, only to become beset by Mori’Quessir. When their attempts to convert failed, blood was shed. Clergy were captured in the night, enslaved or tortured, but rarely did they endure the nightmarish conditions long. 

The Legionnaires adapted to Mori’Quessir tactics and fought back. Led by Griffith, they began one of the most successful purges of the Underdark. They found salvation through the perpetual slaughter of what was discovered. Be it mushroom, insect, Mori or any other abomination, the legionnaires of Godfrey survived by conquering what belonged to others. Even Mori slavers could not catch him as he evaded and murdered; he became a myth:

 Uk Vel'uss Tah - He Who Hunts.

Years would pass as the Legionnaires endured perpetual warfare. But the Mori’Quessir were many. Gradually, Griffith’s men perished in battle, and even the great warrior could not defeat the devil of age. On a night known as the Twenty-Seven Ends, Griffith defeated an entire Mori’Quessir warband single handedly as the last of his party were surrounded and butchered. He had survived with twenty-seven wounds. But weary from blood loss and maddened by the endless decades of fighting, he hid himself in a small cave like a sickly animal for the slim chance of a peaceful end. Griffith was certain he would soon be joining his comrades in the Skies, and for a moment, he believed he had witnessed his death.

The darkness of the caves had left Griffith’s eyes unprepared for a light so radiant and vibrant that it blinded: Before him, the Aengul of Courage, Malchadiael, stood. Impressed by his displays of bravery and ability to fight, the Aengul bestowed upon the enfeebled Griffith his Blessing. And as quickly as he had appeared, Malchaediael was gone. The Aengul’s champion recovered, alone in the dark, until he was recuperated. Understanding now that his quest was unfinished, Griffith struck and shaped the stones day and night until his blows were strong as iron. This cavern would become Felder’s Grotto. Griffith had finally established a place of worship, spread the True Faith as decreed by his Emperor, and so this temple remained protected until the end of his days. Above all things, Griffith of the House Felder respected bravery in the face of insurmountable odds.

OOC Information

Felder’s Grotto is part of a passive eventline that ET will be able to utilize throughout the map. The Grotto also establishes a unique place of worship tied to player history and opportunities to expand on the culture of Malchadiael’s Templars in the future.

Among sailors it is said nothing bites like the Heaven’s Fangs, a gathering of wrecks and ruins with the promise of lost riches beneath the waves. The tales circulating the region range from pale hands that drag you into the depths to a water beast that devours ships whole. Whatever the truth, this place is one rife with misfortune.

Into the Deep

Artifacts and ancient records indicate that long before Iblees had torn the descendants apart, a prosperous city known as Taoul was built on the high cliffs of what would later become Heaven's Fangs. Here, the proud Bohra people prospered under the guidance of wise beings that endowed them with the knowledge to grow and develop. Mastery of the material, arcane, and beyond, many great things were learned and invented only to be lost for centuries. 

When it became clear that fate had decreed the Bohra would not prosper to eternity as they once thought, the brightest minds sought a way to preserve their home. One warlock who had sailed to many planes had a solution: to raise their city to the heavens where the decay could not touch them. For many days and nights the mages of Taoul worked tirelessly without sustainable results. What followed next has mixed accounts. It is believed an outsider came to the Bohra and granted a means of power sufficient to fuel them their endeavor. Who or what this outsider was, or what they gave to the Bohra in truth, has different answers. 

Some historians note the outsider emerged from the sea with a gift from the abyss, while others say they descended from the clouds with a piece of the stars, and the list goes on. Whatever the truth, it is certain this power failed them greatly. As the Bohra attempted to raise their city at last, the ground fought back. It shook and cracked before a great cataclysm obliterated them all, leaving massive chasms all across the land that would later form the rivers and fjords of the Heaven’s Fangs. Any traces of Taoul are few, and what truly happened on that day is a mystery.

The Fjords

The Heaven’s Fangs are a collection of fjords on the western edges of Aevos. The waters are infamously difficult to trek, and an amateur navigator’s early grave. For this reason, the region is known to host shipwrecks and sunken treasure.

Located on the land are the ruins of a lost civilization over thousands of years old. Shattered sculptures and crumbled mosaic tiles depict men with boar heads engaged in various activities. Some are recognizable, like sailing and fishing, but others are more elusive, with boarmen wielding alien tools or riding some manner of unrecognizable beast or vehicle. It’s evident this was a highly advanced civilization. With a great deal of rubble under the waves, it is presumed by scholars that the larger portion of this city had been on the water, while the ruins on the land are but a small piece of the past. 

Within the ruins are carvings and depictions of humanoid shapes farming, building, and fishing. Structures built of rubble resembling shrines are scattered on the land. Simple stone tools and ornaments buried in the soil indicate various peoples resided in the ruins after its original makers. Old dolls and faded paintings show dark skinned fishmen of varying appearance. Some look relatively elvish with pointed ears, while others are more unusual: fish bearing the arms and legs of men, or women with their lower halves replaced by fish tails among others. Most of these aquatic entities are portrayed near the shore or swimming in the sea.

Some explorations have observed crevices on the cliff walls akin to entrances, but few have been pursued. Those that have are said to lead down labyrinthian tunnels or into rooms of cave paintings. Whether the residents on the surface had fled below or an entirely different civilization lived there is unknown. Tales of cataclysm and a long history of death have driven future explorers away from the area, and rumors insist the place is cursed; claims that spirits call passing sailors to their doom, or stranger still, that some presence under the water prevents all attempts at settling these lands. Some even say the dead can be spotted on the cliff-sides under a full moon.

OOC Information

The Heaven's Fangs exist as an ambient piece of the map's story with a deeper, hidden history to unearth for those who enjoy exploring and piecing information together. It sets the groundwork for future events connected to themes of the ocean and the deep, as well as providing the means for players to host DIY events calling back to these elements of their own.

Five of Captain Beleth’s men were sent to map out the northern tundra of Aevos. One returned. He was delirious and brought with him the diary of Leonid, a crewmate. Some of the pages were torn. When the ship disembarked, this lone survivor was not among them. It is presumed he fell overboard and drowned.

Entries

2nd of Malin’s Welcome

We’ve decided to spend the night in the hills. Hamelyn, our lead, says it’s a few days before we reach the northsnows, but he is hesitant. I hear it in his voice. This land Captain Beleth has brought us to is empty and wrong in ways I cannot say but feel. There are only ruins and great big mountains that cover the sun; even the light is not welcome. But the crew’s come to concede that a place like this has secrets many would pay a great deal for, and to this I agreed, so I volunteered alongside four others to determine what the tundras held.

I am the only educated man among us who can read and write, and so I was charged with recordkeeping. Sam is perhaps the only one of us looking forward to this expedition. He is our youngest, and says he’s never seen snow before, so I’ve restrained my worries the best I can for his sake. Maxwell and Reto are not so discreet. Reto tries to get under Sam’s skin with his tall tales, but if they really did frighten the boy, he hides it well.

9th of Malin’s Welcome

The northern expanse is greater than anticipated, we have been charting it for some days now. Sam spotted something even further north: a tower that stretches above the fog and clouds. Always in the distance. Hamelyn wants us to venture there, and I can see in Maxwell the urge to dissuade him. Ever since we reached the north, he hardly speaks, not even to taunt Sam. I cannot blame him. The nights are the worst. Wind thrashes and our fires struggle, so we fight the feeble warmth with the heat of our bodies, and as strong as Reto is, he too shivers in his sleep. 

What truly makes me uneasy is the nature of this place. There have been no birdsongs or wayward animals stumbling along the way, as if they know something we do not. However, when the weather picks up, I can hear faint, somber voices. I know it must be some trick of the wind, but it makes me wonder what became of the people who built the spire Hamelyn is so desperate to reach. 

14th of Malin’s Welcome

There has been a discovery. On the path to the spire, we found an opening  into an old structure in the hills. It felt ancient, and the stones were not as cold as expected. Hamelyn didn’t think much of it, but Maxwell and I agreed that we might learn something of that tower within and save ourselves a trip and rations. Him, Sam, and myself went inside while Hamelyn and Reto waited for us. 

What we found resembled a study, with rusted tools and foreign inscriptions on the walls and tables that had to be centuries old. There were piles of books with the same inscriptions, so we took some with us. A collector or warlock will find better use for them, and the price will reflect that. Maxwell and I were briefly separated from Sam as we ventured deeper. What we found I dare not record here, but we left as soon as we found the boy. For the first time, Sam looked afraid.

17th of Malin’s Welcome

For all the walking we have done, the spire gets further and further away from us. We are tired, our rations low, and now Sam is sick. An omen, Maxwell called it. We have stopped now that the sun is set and made camp. Hamelyn ordered Reto take Sam back in the morning when Maxwell asked to go with them. I threw my name in as well. There hasn’t been a day of peaceful rest in this tundra. We know it is only Hamelyn who wants to reach that damnable tower. We don’t know why. But we know that whatever hides here was tucked away for a reason.

The things we saw in that ruin have embedded themselves behind my eyes, but surely Sam has taken it the worst. I would wager whatever he saw down there is what struck him ill. An omen. Try as I might to put that day behind me, but the night does no help. It is unmistakable now. I am certain it is voices I hear whispering in the dark. We are being watched. I thank the stars we’re finally going home.

18th of Malin’s Welcome

We woke to Sam missing. All that was left were his wet pair of boots. Half the day spent searching for him before Hamelyn decided to set up camp again and let him come to us. Reto is still searching. We were supposed to start back today, yet we are no closer to the ship. There is one place we have not looked: the ruin. Maxwell knows it too, with his glances towards the hill when he thinks no one sees him. But neither of us wants to go back, and if Hamelyn had been down there, he would agree. Since he hadn’t, Maxwell and I are not keen to remind him.

While gathering kindling for the fire, I saw prints in the snow beneath the trees. Not a man’s feet, something larger. They were the first ones I’d seen on this entire expedition, and some part of me hoped they would lead to Sam, but there was something wrong about these tracks, just as there is a wrongness in every stone and branch of this place, that kept me from pursuing them. As the prints went on, their shape warped, growing more jagged and uneven. It was hiding. Whatever this thing was, it did not want to be followed, and I obliged.

20th of Malin’s Welcome

Two days have passed and Reto is yet to return. Sam is still missing. We cannot go any further, but Hamelyn insists on reaching the spire. Maxwell and I told him we would return to the ship, but Hamelyn only said that it meant he would find the spire alone. This cold has hampered his senses, hampered all of our senses, but I will not wait here and freeze to death. When we reach the ship, the captain will send more men, and they will find Sam and Reto.

We stopped a moment in the woods, but plan to continue south through the dark. The silence is awful. I long for those whispers now, the only company we were afforded, and that they might point us the right way. There is nothing for us here. I want to go home. There is nothing for us here.

[!] The final entry is not dated. The handwriting is skewed and stilted, unlike the other entries:

We are home. She keeps us safe.

OOC Information

This piece is a part of the greater northern region's story to be expanded on through eventlines. Further information can be discovered through discovery and roleplay.

Under and above the hostile canopies of Al’avariel, secrets and untamable forces of nature reside.

Temple of Doom

The Kharajyr proliferated from their home continent of Khalenwyr and after settling Va’Khajra in Asulon in the name of Tla’Xerdun, other prides found separate lands, their divisions unknown. One such pride were a Pantera people, the Moquitli, zealous craftsmen whose ancestors hailed from the Asulon circle of blood mages and frequently included ensorcellments and rune-work in their religious rites and sacrifices. Their narcissism was consolidated among their clerical elite who strove to manifest the glory of their vicious blood god, Gore Goddess and Master of Pain, Metztli, and built a grand temple in her name. Many years later on a lunar eclipse, the temple was completed and sanctified through sacrifice, cementing the reign of the Kharajyr over the jungle and nearby cliffs.

    Afforded strong bodies, shadowy fur, and elemental enchantments, the Moquitli dominated the territory as apex ambush predators and thrived on the large game present. They went unchallenged for centuries, a period in which multiple dynasties and inner divisions came and went but always did the Blood Goddess loom on high; wars cut in her name, families ended in her name, and always toasts and festivals sung in her name. The Moquitli become scattered amid the arrival of other Kharajyr across the centuries.

    The divinatory masters of the clergy, High Moongazers of Muun’Trivazja, foresaw a dark future. One they constructed a calendar to predict and count towards. This stone clock anticipated a prophetic future where darkness would befall the continent and the earth would become evil, the chosen people of Metztli would endure great suffering, and their civilization would end in iron shackles and a river of blood.

    The day came when outsiders reached their shores. Although fierce, powerful, and magically armed, the great furred race did not easily dominate the night elves of Nemiisae who sailed on ships invisible at night, strode in silent platemail, and wielded envenomed and icy blades. The Mori’Quessir learned to subvert the Kharajyr and sailed around the continent to settle where their dynasty did not stretch, cemented themselves and grew their ranks, and slowly chipped away at the population. The prides were in part slain, enslaved, and slowed through methods of guerilla raids from underground and the implementation of ravaging curse-craft. The two warred for a span of nearly 200 years in addition to bouts of conflict with Ynna’s gate dwarves upon their arrival for 150 years. In this time the Kharajyr dwindled, many of the Kha’Tigrasi became slaves on account of their brawny builds, while other peoples fell to necrotic sicknesses and bewitchments by the Mori. Their land became deprived of fruit and the earth of nutrients after extended conflicts and slowly they were reduced to a mere village squatting in the ruins of the Teo Camaxli temple.

    A final war ended the Moquitli line but not without legendary scars. Kha’Tigrasi and Mori’Quessir naztherak of the Chaichath targetted the temple in aims to end the vestiges of the once-great civilization, a trophy to honor their names and their infernal lords, and for it they wove a curse over the land with the help of their very own blood magic. The mud became hollow and hungry and would suck in anyone who stepped into it in addition to swallowing buildings. Many signs of the civilization sank into the earth during a fiend-mouthed storm and with it the great pyramid became tilted and half-sank into the muck, killing thousands. The sludge filled the temple up to its heart chamber where to this day the doomsday calendar and its ritual circle are said to remain.

In time the Kharajyr could no longer survive on their own. They were broken by famine, curses, raiding, and slavery, and ultimately the temple became a ruin. With the apex predators of the jungle vanquished and left to survive as pawns and scum in the service of others, the temple was abandoned. Today, it is believed something else lurks there. Hostile to invaders and fiercely protective of the structure.

The Wellspring

Towards the end of the Kharajyr conflict, Ruvetel, a matriarch of the Elvari warrior clan, employed a detachment of her most trusted fighters to quell a band of ruthless Kha’Tigrasi who had slaughtered a Mori’Quessir warband. The Mori’Quessir were victorious, but their enemy vicious, and amidst the chaos of battle, Ruvetel was separated from her people. Fatally wounded, she sought a quiet place where she could die on her lonesome and preserve what dignity she could. What Ruvetel found was a beautiful spring tucked away behind blooming plants and foliage, somewhere she had never been before. Awestruck, but weakened, she collapsed, and faded from the waking world. However, she did not pass. Seven days later she woke, and where her wounds had been, vines producing a mending oil she did not recognize were wrapped. As if some natural force had deemed her worthy of saving.

As tribute, Ruvetel brought her people to the spring, and there they settled. Here, they flourished beyond what their kinsmen thought possible. The Mori and their livestock who fed on the plants grown around the spring and drank from its waters lived long and healthy lives. Crops grew at unforeseen speed, and herbs grew here that could not be found or grown anywhere else on the continent. The Elvari people might have been the most prosperous of the Mori’Quessir on Aevos, which drew the attention of many. Jealousy and envy spread to the faithful of Nemiisae, as it so often did.

Some began to call this spring of unchecked growth a work of sacrilege to the Goddess of decay. It was unnatural to blossom as the Elvari did, and so surely they had to be stopped. First came the Mierillis'lysaen, a clan of mages who attempted to poison the spring under the eye of Galdiban, a blood sorcerer. Their arcane wisdom could not save them, for the Elvari were fiercely protective of their home, and repelled the attackers. Next came the matriarch of clan Selan. She attempted to reason with Ruvetel, show her this way was blasphemous and to settle elsewhere, but Ruvetel did not sway. Last was the warrior clan of Torath, who had no interest in magic tricks or diplomacy. A siege was waged for nearly a decade. If any of the Elvari people are alive today, they hide well. When the dust settled, nothing remained, and the wellspring was no more.

Today, Al’avariel is home to several unique herbs and plants that were born during the days of Ruvetel. Flora blossoms here more easily than anywhere else, and many would find that the crops yielded here are long-lasting and strong in taste. The wellspring has been lost to the ages, yet some small sliver of its boons continues to persist.

What Grows and Climbs

Far above bloodsoaked temple steps and muddied waters are the Jade Mountains. A place of solitude and a climb suitable only to those prepared to test themselves. Though quiet and in tune with nature, the Jade Mountains are not absent in signs of civilization. To the contrary, many of the ridges and peaks seem to resemble the foundation for what appears to be a series of speckled, abandoned strongholds. What are these structures, and why are they here?

Upon closer inspection, one may come to realize that though abandoned and at the very least centuries old, these strongholds are not masoned with stone. Hardly capable of acting as bastions for war, rather, they are adorned with many vibrant colors and wooden designs. They are embellished with jade sculptures and iconography that originated the area’s name. To a keen eye versed on the Aeldenic province, one may be able to make the comparison that these temples resemble Cathantese in architectural style. Regardless, these temples are abandoned and no more than lifeless husks nested among the clouds. Though the complete origins of these strongholds remains unknown, some tidbits of information can be extrapolated from the artwork and occasional text that can be found within the ruins. A general narrative can thus be formed from what is accessible:

Sometime prior to the descendants' emergence upon the continent of Aevos, a band of Golden Fur Hou known as the Saiya-Ren had found their way to the Jade Mountains, away from the conflicts below. This region possessed a humid climate and green hills that resembled much of their homeland. A delight it was for these Hou to have been so fortunate in finding a land compatible with their lifestyle. And thus they began to scale the cliffs, swinging from tree to tree. Day in and day out they would climb and hoist materials with their tails. In time, they erected temples to a figure whose name can be transcribed as Hou-Shen. Within these compounds they would train day and night in the pursuit of the martial mastery of their spiritual energy. The murals also depict the Saiya-Ren undertaking trials of temperance as to refrain from a hedonistic and material lifestyle. It can be assumed it was for this reason they settled where the Mori’Quessir would not venture, a people so fundamentally contradictory to their way of life. 

The Saiya-Ren Hou thrived in peace, though it is unclear for how long. Many a beast and curious night elf found their way to the Jade Mountains, and with them came the strife of conflict. To preserve the tranquility of the land, the spiritual fighters of the Saiya-Ren would display their martial prowess and handedly protect their home. Life prospered. The exact cause of their vanishing remains unknown. One may only speculate. Perhaps another threat called their attention elsewhere? A simple matter of homesickness? Given the region’s history, perhaps it was something far more grim, but who really knows?

OOC Information

These loosely interwoven tales and pieces of Aevos history serve to establish eventlines that will be expanded throughout the course of the map, as well as a sandbox for players to explore themes of Kharajyr, conflict, blessings of nature, Mori’Quessir, the Cathant, and the now missing Hou-Zhi. It is also HIGHLY recommended that one not assume to know the legend and lore of the Kharajyr or Hou-Zi without coming upon it naturally through roleplay. Please, refrain from overt metagaming. DIY events can be held, but ultimately these ruins and the environments provided serve as a backdrop for roleplay and exploration.

For ET: It is recommended that any monster or plot pertaining to the locations keep the aesthetics in mind rather than shoe-horning an event purely because the area is empty. Refer to the Maplore Backface documents for further details on doing events in this region.

In these chilled woods, terrible things watch your every move. A testament to evil has marked this place.

Muckwood

When Aevos was young and the Bohra ruled land and sky, some truths survived the centuries. Among them is the danger that dark magicks entailed. During the height of their civilization, a coven of scholars led by Tashra-Nuil, a prophet-sorcerer who warned of their collapse when most would call him a fool, sought a means to triumph their eventual death. His methods, however, were frowned upon by the same beings who had endowed the Bohra with the very knowledge that empowered their people. This did not stop his delving into forbidden matters of the flesh, and he was ultimately exiled. He settled in what was known as Muckwood at the time, an unsavory forest where little grew and many perished. His loyal students followed him into this dark place and they continued their studies. 

What Tashra-Nuil and his disciples learned was the mastery of weaving life, mending the tarnished flesh and animating what nature had abandoned. This craft was highly coveted, and for the slights their own people had laid against them, they would not share it so lightly. Through plaguecraft and pale armies that seemed to emerge from the dirt, they repelled any who would dare enter their home. It was known these woods were to be avoided, and the only records of Tashra-Nuil and his coven’s work that were not burned remain buried in the Muckwood. When the Bohra people vanished from Aevos, it is uncertain what became of these wicked wisemen. Many scholars and warriors have sought out his order through the centuries, led by tales in search of powerful relics and tomes for themselves, a desire to quell the darkness of the woods for good, or simply just for the quiet company of the dead. Few have succeeded. Fewer still would speak of it.

Amidst Ash

Mori’Quessir society is commonly brutal and rife with oppression. Slaves, spiders, and secrets. It was these conditions that brought on an uprising that began in Myazrill among males. Due to an unknown coven of witches bleeding into city leadership, the subjugation and abuse of males increased and under the heel of this matriarchy was there both a spark and a fire. Foremost Mori’Quessir men but additionally some of their Kharajyr slaves became roused into rebellion when a new smoky voice answered their pleas. By pacting with devils, men became warlocks and wielded dark arms and cursed flame to rise up and throw off the yoke of their mothers and masters. To the fatal flaw of such evils  - infighting - this hellfire uprising was successfully ejected and what men and demons who could not be killed were cast away and exiled.

This band of devil-dealers rallied under a new banner, House Chaicath, and together escaped the deep tunnels of their kin and settled in a sprawling forest where they raised demons and belched hellfire. There they erected a grim hold, their tomb-hall of Jixharr. On a date burned in history - literally and metaphorically - the Chaicath assembled to pull the Hells to them in a grand ritual in the woods with an incestuous union of dark arts. Fitting for the unstable chaos of inferi, the ritual was a success with disastrous consequences; the fortress erupted in flame and scorched it black while an inferno shot across the forest where a volcanic storm rose into the sky and raged for days. Frightened eyes from all across the continent saw this infernal light, and thus the woods became known as the Brightwald. Once the inferno faded its curse became apparent; the forest was blasted into a scorched waste. A sizeable amount of warlocks not sacrificed to the ritual were incinerated themselves but unfortunate others endured the blaze who instead were subject to the damnation of the profane ritual, each converted heart and soul into inferi. It is not known what became of House Chaicath or their tomb-hall, but across Aevos are records of monstrosities that raided and pillaged for treasures and meats before disappearing into shadow.

OOC Information

The Brightwald is a location set as the groundwork for future eventlines further down the map as well as an ambient backdrop to fulfill the niche of creepy forest. Players can host DIY events here and utilize the stranger monsters in the expanded bestiary, and ET are able to run events tied into the aesthetic and themes of death and dark magic.

Redmont

Redmont is a smoldering landscape in stark contrast to the frozen wastes of the Ailmere it is tucked behind. Volcanic heights with sprawling lakes of magma decorate its north with massive archways and formations of stone that indicate an unnatural phenomenon. Great pillars and cavernous entrances lead into the labyrinth hidden within, and ruins of what once was can be encountered. At the foot of the volcano once was a sprawling forest whose flora and fauna were stripped in a blaze leaving only a Burnt Forest, hot pools of melted snow scattering the grounds. 

The Furnace

In those ancient days when the Spire was still a prosperous metropolis, the Bohra discovered hidden beneath the volcanic peaks of the Redmont a labyrinthine cavern system with a great magical stone at its center in a lake of magma, with heat even more intense than that of the surface. The Bohra empire at its peak was distinguished with sorcerers and artificers who were unable to discern the meaning and origins of the stone, though still they sought to use its great power. They erected about it a construction called the Red Ring which through their enchantments made the volcanic cavern habitable and harnessed that intense magical heat instead for an elaborate workshop. Thus the great cavern system was turned into a Furnace and named so. Eventually the Bohra Empire would fall to a catastrophe, diminishing violently from the realm of Aevos. Over the course of centuries, the Furnace fell into disrepair and ruin. During the catastrophe, many of the tunnels overloaded and collapsed or imploded on themselves, though certain tunnels remained mostly intact, albeit very unstable.

Centuries later a dwarf sorceress and Runelord named Ynna would arrive in Aevos with a host of dwarven refugees and kindred. They hailed from the Halls of Urguan, cave dwarves of the truest variety who had not known the surface world beyond the tales from their other kin. They had fled the onset of the dwarven Blood Age, where one clan began to assume total totalitarian control of the mountainhome and its guilds, especially that of the Runesmiths. Ynna and her host had come for the Furnace, and set about reconstructing the Red Ring to the best of their abilities. It required runic equipment and incredible effort to send dwarves in to repair the dilapidated construction and withstand the heat. 

The Red Ring and the broader Furnace’s main quality in both its peak during Bohra control and the later diminished dwarven era was not just tapping into the energy of the sealed stone for a single purpose but production of an enchanted fuel which was then able to be used to make special alloys and bolster the artifice both magical and mundane of the workshop. The most notable and widespread production was that of an enchanted metal called by the dwarves Kharvul Steel, used in their enchantments to retain more mana and alloyed with other rare metals. With the restoration of the Red Ring, they were not able to make the metal to the same pure qualities as their Bohra predecessors, but a more diluted version.

The Eight Gates

Even in its depleted state, the Furnace was still able to be used by the dwarves to create powerful relics, and Ynna had a purpose to risk her kin in its rekindling. Using sorcery and runecraft bolstered by the Furnace, Ynna began the construction of eight great runic seals to be placed across Aevos for some greater scheme, but such would take many years of effort. As they continued to operate the Furnace, Ynna ordered her kindred to begin to make preparations to secure footings across Aevos.

Ynna’s dwarves would begin the construction of dwarven deep-roads, encountering the remnants of Bohra pathways and structures as they spread across the depths of Aevos. Frequently, they would set up outposts and holds in prospective locations of great wealth or in strategic positions which were important to defend their deep-roads. It was not uncommon to face conflict with the occasional band of Mori’quessir, specters, goblins and other forgotten beasts which hid beneath the earth.

With her enchantments completed and her kin settling in small outposts across Aevos, Ynna constructed Eight Gates and sought to establish a dwarven presence over each to ensure their maintenance, however the folk were spread too thin. The dwarves began to be overwhelmed by their foes beneath the earth, and soon their civilization fell to disrepair, Ynna herself disappearing. Little more than ruins remain of their infrastructure, and what remnants of the kin survived the collapse scattered and hid beneath Aevos committed themselves to fulfilling the purpose of the Eight Gates; “Atta Edhekalmar” in their ancient tongue.

OOC Information:

Redmont is a maplore piece to offer resources for Story Team actors and players to build off of, as well as offering a greater story behind the typical ashlands aesthetic. It’s a consistent theme that dwarven ruins are scattered across maps, part of this Lore’s purpose is to offer an excuse to that as well lay a foundation of Deeproads events that both players and ET could explore. The story of the Furnace, Ynna and her Eight Gates will be developed by eventlines that will open up more of the lore to be used.

This map is a placeholder until our interactive 3D map is available (hopefully soon 🥺)

The native Green Hell of Southeastern Aevos, The Jungles of Beleth sat neatly between the crescent mountains which shielded the continent from the monsoons which came in from the southern seas. The desert met with a fertile oasis from the lifeblood of rivers which ran through The Jungles in full saturation, providing life and nourishment to the harsh and brutal rainforest.

The Jungles of Beleth

The Jungles of Beleth were among the most hostile of any environment to live, and yet the resources abundant made it difficult to avoid. Minerals rich in the fertile, mineralized soils filled with rich and nutritious sand that fed the earth greatly, and thus, whatever fed upon it. The Jungles were gargantuan, as tall Palm trees, Brazilnut trees, Kapok, Rosewood, and Acacia trees pierced the sky above and canopied the thick underbrush below rich and full of life. The weather was unsustainably hot year round, as thick humid air stuck to the skin like a neverending sweat. The sun looked favourably upon the jungle for most hours of the day year-round, where it's shine was most unwelcome in the already scorching heat. 

When the sun did not show, thick grey clouds did which rolled in from the sea in as short as minutes. Typhoons and monsoons which tore and ripped apart trees showered the land in harsh waters that caused the rivers to surge with life, local floods often taking up portions of the jungle for themselves. Yet, as one found themselves in greater highland of the jungle, more mild weathers and storms were seen more often. The monsoon went from an existential terror of flood and downpour to a heavy, calming rain almost welcomed in times of stress.

This however, was a luxury few were afforded.

The Jungles of Beleth were filled with creatures both kind and harsh; Dixie Dart frogs, Musavis, Caedilus, Hernta, Bearded Pike and Arazi Lotus which uniquely haunted the region; and found scarcely elsewhere upon Eos, if anywhere. The fauna and flora unique to the jungle were unlike those encountered anywhere else, outside of the staples found within The Jungles that grew despite adversity. Cacao trees, tigers, monkeys, countless reptiles and avians which plagued both the ground and skies. 

Even with this, various creatures venomed with a psychadelic toxin that caused vivid hallucinations, terrors, and paranoia as one entered another world when threatened by even a mere butterfly; corrupted by The Jungle's harsh living. Jailor's moss proved a thick and barbed deterrent from various parts of the jungle, whilst Mandragora grew in scarcity in the underbrush. Bitter reed grew in irony to the diseased jungle that surrounded it, whilst Gislocinovi, Diddyfunkle, and Aquanymph too hid between the large brush and flora that grew vibrantly within the jungle.

Despite it's wildlife and splendor, The Jungles of Beleth would be an environment cruelly harsh to the most unprepared of descendants; even those arriving to Aevos, the seas were littered with remnants of dead pirate upstarts and broken ships that had come from places far and times past. But The Jungles of Beleth held their namesake for one thing, and one thing alone...

The Beleth Expedition

This tale is provided by the unreliable narrator of Legend, and thus, may not be wholly accurate. Characters may spin, add to, or redact parts of this tale as they so please as they may have heard it in character to further develop it's story and legend.

An infamously failed expedition from the distant republic of Berillia far across The Southern Seas, Captain Darius Beleth was a skilled captain from the kingdom who's town was raided by pillagers of unknown origin. Their magics were foreign, and they disgusted him greatly; sorcery of unknown origin that even the court mages, despicable as they were, provided him with little information. Driven by something; perhaps rage? Fear? Revenge? The good Captain with this in his heart and mind would form together a crew of expeditionaries from a charter of exploration by a mixture of The Great Guilds within the city. Three ships were raised, The Cordelia, The Cressida, and The Catherine. 

Three ships left, and yet none returned. Wary by the prospect that the guilds may have been scammed, a mercenary ship by the name of The Carcharodon had departed too to the seas north of Berillia, where they too would not return. Cut from their losses, and struck with great superstition as one of the great cultural movements of their time; a time among few where the squabbling republic could agree upon one foe, and one man's purpose, conspiracy and tall tales arose. Countless among them, were the "True" fate of Captain Darius and his three ships.

Many spoke of Darius landing upon the continent, and plundering it for it's splendor; pocketing the gold of the guilds and of the islands found, and making a fleet of his own. Sometimes of pirates, sometimes not. Others spoke that Captain Beleth had set upon an island, and in soontime had been killed; be it by wildlife, natives, or even his own men. The most sadistic and twisted of tales spoken fewest were that of cannibalism, betrayal, and massacre as hundreds of good men had disappeared to never return. Few spoke ever of the vessel sent to recoup losses, The Carcharodon, which too had never returned. Though few care for mercenaries, fewer within Berillia. 

With unknown tales at the mount, a song arose as prominent from some of the most popular of tales. Supposedly sung by mad bard accompanying the crew whom had returned as a bloated corpse walking who still yet sung before being cut down. Regardless of origin, the song accrued popularity; particularly in Berillia, but as a sailor's ballad of grim grief and wanderlust, for wherever revenge brings one, death is surely to follow.

The Folly of Good Captain Darius

O'er the waves they go

Vengeance was his goal

The ship rocking to-and-fro

His men's fate soon to be known

Captain Darius

Committing sin and slaughter

For the life of his own daughter

The Captain let his men die

Drawing closer to fate

As his end met the date

The Captain heard his men cry;

You traitor you traitor 

You've damn killed us all

For our wives will be longing

And our children's lives small

You promised glory and fame

But you've only brought us shame

It's time you meet your end

But the good Captain tried

And yet still he died

The Good Captain lay bleeding soon-to-go

Yet soon did he see

His world turned to snow

The Captain's daughter saw him in red

And soon did he die, his body had bled

Yet tears wept from his eyes

The young daughter saw

Her hero did fall

Softly her jaw

Let words that did crawl

Oh father oh father

How close you did seem

To meeting your dream

Was all that you gleamed

Yet now you lay dead

Your heart no longer red

A knife in the back

Is all that it took

To kill the good,

Captain Darius

With the arrival of The Descendants upon Aevos, remnants of The Beleth Expedition would permeate not only within The Jungles of Beleth, but elsewhere throughout Aevos aswell. Tales and signs of his failed expedition would show up in legend and tale throughout the continent, though sparse and difficult to find. The Expedition itself could be seen in tattered remains in various places throughout The Jungles of Beleth, from broken camps to destroyed huts and tents of more permanent civilization. Corpses either taken by the wildlife or so ancient the tale truly is as old as legend itself, slowly over time would they come to find out what truly had happened to Captain Darius Beleth and his failed expedition. 

OOC Information

The Beleth Expedition is another maplore piece similar to Ailmere which hosts countless connections with other pieces of maplore, and hopefully, events throughout this map. There are many events in the jungle and opportunities to explore the backstory, truth, folktales, and fate of The Beleth Expedition that are to come this map through various eventlines with a lot of special interactions, items, and character artefacts. 

The psychadelic poison mentioned some creatures maintain is for strictly, non-combative narrative use of players, and free use for ET on how they may wish to utilize it. Venom is not gatherable nor acquired by tameing, nor is one able to inject the venom into another person by any means of control, magic, taming, or gathering. One may emote the venom being injected by themselves only, acting as a strong psychedelic and hallucinogenic. 

Spreading from the eastern shores of Aevos that kissed The Bitter Sea and dancing westward to the balmy currents of The River Petra, The Silent Valley was a wandering land of trees, rocks, and ruin. No wind blew through the trees as the air stood still, a grim reminder of such tremendous loss even so distantly far ago.

The Valley

The Silent Valley sprawled in an environment which transformed greatly, and yet the dour feeling of loss felt all the same. Starting from the east, red poppy fields grew in clusters of hundreds and thousands; the red petals of the hardy flower shining daintily amongst ruins and rolling hills. Gentle seas from The Bitter Sea rolled in to tuck in against the coast, calm and soothing without fight or fuss. Furthering west, the great lake of Loch Stjor stood hardily with freshwater from the plentiful mountains which came from all sides as it's current pushed against the harsh tide of the sea which brought with it waste and fodder, such as Sweetrock, driftwood, and migrant birds from continents unknown.

A great forest of towering birches and dotted lakes stood betwixt the great Mountains of Beleth to the south and those which formed the great range of The East. Meeting the desert oasis westward, The Valley crawled north and settled upon foothills which met the resting place of an ancient oak; it's age beyond years countable as it's growth stood as a testament of time. At least, so it had seemed.

The air was eerie and still within the valley, quiet breezes brushed by and the weather remained temperate for most of the year. The sea ebbed harsher waves of weather and the rivers brought life to the land, whilst the mountains protected it from great storms, winds, and invasions; would they ever come. A cradle of civilization, The Silent Valley held to it a grim undertone that was palpable by even the most sanguine and the most austere. Roaming upon the broken civilization, one would begin to wonder what had become of those who had lived before.

The Valley was held tightly by creatures of the forest, such as Tinker Weavers, Tahala Stag, Musavis which visited from the south, and countless species of natural indistinct wildlife such as deer, foxes, bears, wolves, snakes and varied lizards. Blissfoil, Nightsap, Sweetrock and Nightglow grew handily within the region as it's most potent herbs and reagents that permeated throughout Aevos. Boiling however beneath the waves, was a foe set out for purpose; perhaps revenge, or conquest? Shuul lurked as they stalked the coastline, scouting for something which was yet to come..

Remnants of A Civilization Gone

Strolling throughout The Silent Valley, it was hard to miss the landmarks and splendor which rolled throughout the land. Ancient ruins made of pure marble and silver, now broken and tarnished, from a civilization ancient and old. The buildings sprawling from Sea to River, yet broken to pieces and left to nothing but rare bricks and pillars. It was impossible to piece, truly, how these ancient buildings could have been connected across such great distances, at least without more being present. Yet, it seemed as if an entire city were eradicated outside of a spare few hardy ruins.

The eastern seashore bore a great statue of a terrible aberration, a man with the head of an angler fish bearing a cruel spear which seemed in disrepair. Zha'ero, it read, standing tall as the sea ate away at the statues base. And yet miles away, moved not once pace from it's slimy gaze as grime overtook and grew upon the statue, was another that met it. The Last Defender the statue had read upon it's broken nameplate, the great watcher of southern Loch Stjor. It's trident held high, though crumbling, as time began to eat away at all things.

Despite this, time could not eat at the memory; nor hatred; these two statues had shared amongst one another. Locked in an eternal gaze from whence they were built, until they would be destroyed- or even destroy eachother.

Behind The Last Defender between the trees and ponds of the misty birch forest, was a stone vault sat taut with the lakebed. Almost overgrown, a great sense of wealth and power drew from it's maw; the call of insurmountable treasure and desire that beckoned through those titanic, unbreachable doors. It had the stench of deific magicks which stained it like yellowed teeth; a taint which left it alone, and left it desired.

Further west, a great tree which leaves did not weep in autumn, nor did it's resident pond freeze in the summer nor dry in the winter. It flowered in spring, and it's pondwaters glew with the nightly glow of the moon. Supping from this ancient pond gives one clarity of mind; peace in their person and dreams, and a great silence of the mind to reflect and ruminate on memories long past. To recall, to learn, and to overcome. The Memory Tree spoke in tongues so old even druids could not make sense of it; though not without effort. Perhaps with time, sense could be made, and communication established; but whatever tales the tree told, were unheard of for now.

The Revival

Shortly after their arrival upon Aevos, descendants were soon visited by the last remaining force of Naga known to live, to both themselves and descendants. These Naga established a fort in The Silent Valley called Fort Hope, hesitant to interaction with the nearby descendants. Establishing themselves, they began to explore nearby descendant culture and language in attempt to better communicate them for the Shuul of The Crimson Company that would soon come after them, determined to exterminate their race. They had come seeking artefacts of old, such as The Ocean Heart, rumoured to give life to Eastern Aevos and give it the land's lush nature. As well, The Hall of Mirrors, a holy site to worship their foreign serpentine goddess Kyria. Lastly, The Vault; a fabled door which only a Naga could open, would restore their race and revive their people, bringing them to the golden age and advanced civilization they once were upon Eastern Aevos. The most vehement advocates for this discovery was The Naga Priesthood, and Arion himself. The Depthguard and Greenspeakers seemed to hold reservations about such a grand prophecy. 

It first began with Trade-Prince Mika Anarion of Lurin and his guard rescuing the Naga Arion, unwilling regent-leader of their tribe, from a host of Shuul which had attacked them upon the eastern shores. Establishing initial relations, Lurin helped construct Fort Hope with materials supplemented from the port city itself. Following shortly after, Petra had met with the leader of the Naga Greenspeakers, Nero, and reawoke altogether The Memory Tree. Shaking off dregs of magic which had stood upon the tree for centuries, The Tree surged with life and flooded Aevos briefly, and even still to this day, with druidic energies abound the continent.

As Petra further explored the past memories through The Memory Tree, a purple star awoke in the sky in The Silent Valley. Beneath it, a cavern opened within the cliffside south that held the rumoured Naga artefacts such as The Ocean Heart, The Hall of Mirrors, and The Vault- exploration of so still continuing.

It was later in the conflict that The Crimson Company had began to raid the eastern shores, and establish hesitant relations between The Captain Egelrex Jones and King Adrian I of Balian. These relations are tenuous to this day, as The Crimson Company hires mercenaries from the area, and even rumoured Vortice, to hunt down stray Naga. Seeking more help as The Naga had difficulty pushing into the tunnels which held The Ocean Heart, The Hall of Mirrors, and the fabled Vault supposedly, they'd reached outward. The leader of The Depthguard, the royal house-guard of the Naga, Seraphon, established relations with King Edmund II of Aaun, making a pact of mutual defense against The Shuul that would inevitably push deeper into Eastern Aevos. 

The supposed "Revival" of the Naga was still yet to develop, and more of the story yet to be uncovered...

The Hall of Mirrors

After repeated expeditions by the brave citizens of Petra under the leadership of Paul Alexander and the guidance of druids Norra and Av, guarded by the Knights and Riverguard, the parties had uncovered through visions of The Memory Tree a mystical cavern. Dubbed "The Hall of Mirrors" by the local Naga after their return, this cavern sat beneath a radiant purple star in the south of The Silent Valley, deep within a damp cavern which had been left untouched for centuries. 

The cavern itself seemed heavily magical; influenced by some force ancient and familiar that seemed to warp the cave heavily. Within, the cavern seemed fulfilled with crystals and rocks with mirrored surfaces. A still, empty pond sat in the antechamber of the cavern that too mirrored the surface of the cave above perfectly.

The cave itself was dead silent.

Within the cave, the cool waters would yield an eerie reflection of one's self, which moved and gently reacted upon its own. This reflection seemed to be a hard truth to one's persona, showing their true self. The longer one stared into the pools, the more their character traits would visibly break down and be seen. Their flaws, their strengths, their attributes and at the last, even their most buried emotions on what they truly thought about themselves. There was no lying, nor hiding; the longer one stared into the mirrored surfaces, the quicker their true self was unveiled. 

But it was not just to one's self.

The truth of who one truly was seemed to be fully exposed; even others able to see what the water showed. The water too reflecting what those had truly thought about another person, incapable of concealing their true emotions. It was maddeningly blunt how even the most old, complex souls could see their true selves come to pass in the waters and stones of The Hall of Mirrors.

OOC Information

The Silent Valley, shamelessly, is an eventline I had planned for Almaris which is now seeing greater purpose since the prior edition did not take off past a probing teaser phase. These events will be extensive and expansive, for one-off's and multiple playerbases working together to solve a mystery of what once lived within The Silent Valley, and what happened to it; most importantly, why. 

Currently, the statues and the vault door are uninteractable for the time being, but will be opened shortly after map launch with interaction signs/region messages. The Memory Tree's waters are able to be drank for insight into one's own past, but do not grant the character any benefit but the narrative motif of deep reflection and inner conflict/resolution of old mental scars left repressed or at stress. 

The Hall of Mirrors is a self interaction site which does not utilize ST Interaction, and is up to players to utilize with themselves or one anothers. The only limitation to this is that the hall of mirrors reflective properties are not "Mind Readers" or a "Truth Serum" of any kind, and the revealing of thoughts, emotions, and opinions, is strictly about other characters and their traits rather than everything they are/can think of currently. As well, The Hall of Mirrors was excruciatingly difficult to damage, or take any pieces from; were one successful, they would be mundane, minorly reflective crystal, stone, or regular clean pondwater. 

All records and detail will be posted on this forum post as it's update.

ET are free to utilize Shuul scouts who serve as a significant playing piece of this eventline who would be initially skeptical and hostile to descendants, although uncommunicable since they're fish people. ET are encouraged to inquire for more information and information upon the backface to be able to develop their own plotlines and threads of the story to make a greater and more rich narrative.

Ailmere

The rolling tundra of Ailmere was a vast expanse of cold, year-round winter snows. A grand lake nestled to the south of the valley between grand hills which formed a baisin within the centre of the mountainous, frigid wasteland. Mountains, the highest upon Aevos and the continents surrounding, rolled to the north and west, blocking off the great sea-storms from the north and the scorching flames of The Redmont to the west. The valley itself was covered sparsely in grasses that barely grew, deeply rooted into the ground- growing tall against the mounting snows in order to attain any sunlight the valley attained.

With the grand mountains of The Valley both north and south, daylight was sparse, more akin to a constant sunset in most months of the year. The sun's light barely shed upon those freezing lands, the scarce vegetation left little room to grow. Spruce, pine, hemlock, and evergreen, were the only trees which grew within that land; rains never visited, in their place, heavy snows and blizzards which pelted the land with flake and hail alike. The skies were cloudy, and at the seat of The Mountain, the lights of heaven were the most tumultuous. Vibrant, beautiful arrays of colour flared between the clouds of the region which rarely showed the sky's magnificence. 

Native to the region were few animals- rabbits, elk, caribou, thundermaw ravens, Aveta stonebacks, Tulpa, Avirrin, and Rimetrolls. Herbs such as Frostvine and Athin dotted the land whilst Barrier Bush plagued the north like a rolling plague. Native and exclusive to the region on Eos, Barrier Bush was a wandering pestilence that formed massive and sprawling thickets of thorn and bramble; often blocking paths and rolling down hills, quickly and deadly enough to consume man or animal. 

Adventurers to Ailmere would be instilled with both dread, and a sense of beauty. Whilst the land was hostile, brutal, and frigid; it did hold a peace and quiet unlike other places upon Aevos. The land mostly unplundered by descendant's exploits, the rocks and snows within Ailmere were often those as old as creation themselves; a good chance that wherever one stepped, they were the first, and last, to step within that place.

An island separated the north with a small, thinly channel spent most of the year frozen over save for the warmest of months. Beside that stony, hard island, was a spire that reached from the depths of the ocean to the heights of the heavens. Surrounded in a thick ice fog and spikes of packed, permafrost ice, the spire gave off the most faint traces of ancient true magic unseen anywhere else upon Aevos. 

Despite this, the winds blew faintly with traces of a magic more young, and corrupt. A magic which descendants could hear, feel, and smell, but not yet understand. Stories of yore tell of The Palmreaders of Ailmere, and The Mare of Long Shadows which now resides in their place. Truth be told, stories of pure fantasy may even have some power within the deep snows of Ailmere... 

The Palmreaders and The Mare of Long Shadows

Centuries ago, a cartographer from The Dandelion Guild had resided within the lands of Castellaneta, as a court mage to the local nobility when a strange ship had come to harbor. It's sails black, with the insignia of a grand white mountain obscuring a red sun behind. A symbol of no kingdom, house, or company he had ever recognized before. Clear as day did it's nameplate read The Faultless Hierophant. It was captained by a woman with no name, helmed by a brawny man simply called Endurance. Intrigued, did Ser Winston inquire further of their crew. She gave simple glance at the man, and Winston was wracked with paralysis. His voice cut, his fingers twitched and froze, his muscles spasmed as they fought against something, but did not move. It felt an eternity, yet ended in an instant as her gaze broke from him. Hair masked her face of which he could not recall; the pieces fit together of what he had thought she had looked like, but now he began to doubt. Had he even seen it before? What of when she looked upon him?

His plan quickly seemed to come apart, as quickly as they had come, quickly did they leave. Dockworkers and skippers from other crews had held the same curiosity as Ser Winston. Quietly and without word, they dropped their loading crates and left all they had known behind without a word. Had it really only been seconds that Ser Winston was entranced? Minutes? Hours? It was impossible to tell; his mind scrambled and time without sense. As the collection of crew boarded, soon did the banner of The White Mountain and Red Sun quickly fade into the distance. As his senses slowly came to him, he felt as if he could name further of the crew without having even met them. Faith. Strength. Fear. Curiosity. His urge to chase grew as each sense returned, and his jumbled thoughts could finally begin to make sense. Yet, before his mind could even put sentences together, the ship had long faded away into the distance. Hours passed, the sun beginning to fall beneath the horizon. 

His palms hurt.

It was centuries later that descendants had landed upon Aevos; those same banners flying high over a small, broken, walled settlement nestled at the foot of The Mountain. It's stormcloud boiled over high as the abandoned town sat derelict and left behind, snows heavy set and leaving the ruined village a small piece of times forgotten frozen in ice. Permafrost and icicles held grip over buildings made of wood older than most who would ever set eyes upon them. Beyond the village limits into the hills, a trail which began a path upward of the mountain.

Descendants could walk days between travel and journey up the The Leviathan, encountering expeditions of those long past. Eyes set upon the fallen, frozen skulls and remains could still be found in the snows. Those who had fallen to ice, starvation, deception, and betrayal - The Mountain was a graveyard of corpses. Littered along it, names whispered beneath the wind too distant to hear beneath the howling flurries that permeated around the mountain. Their hands missing, their eyes cut deliberately from their skulls as fewer and fewer corpses could be found further up The Mountain. Magic radiated like the scent of death from the corpses, whatever means of spellcraft they had once possessed were just barely tangible. As if upon the tip of one's tongue could they just begin to listen; but not quite understand; whatever sorcery was speaking to them.

It was as if the land had despised them, each and every individual which had stepped within Ailmere's bounds. Descendants spoke tall-tales of the pale shadow of a woman who stood taller than the snows, watching from a distance with a piercing gaze. Moonlight white, white like eyes, her gaze pierced the hearts of men and women as she observed eerily still from any distance. Without approach or contact, her presence would linger; the feeling of being watched everpresent within those snows as she continued to observe until descendants left Ailmere's bounds. 

Without explanation, even unvisited from camp; those who looked upon her, or rather, those she looked upon, would find themselves troubled within Ailmere's heavy snows. Campfires snuffed, the cold emboldened and frigid within her presence, dreams turned to nightmares as they were invaded by her unending glare. An omen of lies, regret, and destiny; bad fortune which stuck upon descendants like snow upon ice.

Ailmere was cold, quiet, and The Mountain above did not wish to be disturbed. 

OOC Information

Ailmere is a significant portion of the map riddled with mystery, fate, and curiosity. There are a lot of interactions and events which interact with the map circling back to Ailmere. In the near future, more worldlore, prophecies, and even a feat in close relation will be released as players engage and discover more of the land's mysterious past through various eventlines. The fate of The Palmreaders discovered over time, descendants would not know what they had awoken upon their unwilling landing to the continent.

The Mare of Long Shadows is able to be roleplayed only by ET for unsettling interactions or as a small part of events taking place within the region, and cannot be spoken to, reached, or effectively attacked. Tormenting victims, The Mare would torturously try and sabotage descendants and bring them further into Ailmere, and further into it's cold blizzard. Corralling visitors unwittingly to The Mountain by accident. 

The Mare and The Account of Ser Winston are available to be known by any as detailed on this post as legend. These accounts in this lorepiece may not be wholly accurate or true, but for the purposes of roleplay, characters may remove, add, or phrase however of the above best fits their take upon the stories told. Players may state or have actually interacted with The Mare without ET present, although following the above, none would ever reach, interact, or truly harm The Mare. 

The magic left behind of The Palmreader's corpses littered along the mountain clearly gives off hints of some form of mana, although it's nature, origin, and purpose is indistinct and not discernable until further notice.

This lorepiece will be updated as eventlines progress and storylines occur throughout the map.

Description

Shadegrain was a gritty, granular black stone only found in geometrically perfect shapes, unable to be broken down or forged in any manner by any magic. The gritty stone had a skin like a very mild sandpaper, almost as if it were crafted of black sand fused incomprehensibly tightly together. Despite this, the material rubbed off and stained any surface it touched with a deep velvety black colour, almost as if painted with a single stroke of fresh black paint. 

Shadegrain was highly resistant to most forms of damage as a sedimentary stone, able to withstand crushing impacts from even the largest creatures upon Eos with ease- not even shedding a single grain nor showing any sign of weakness within. However, if subjected to repeated, heavy blunt trauma (such as from a hammer or pickaxe), the stone would shatter all at once. When shattered, the stone simply stained in a perfect shape where it once was, losing all notable effects other than an irremovable black paint. 

Despite it's deceiving size, Shadegrain was exceptionally heavy, unaided by any form of strength, muscle, or magic. No method of weight could truly describe or make sense of the stone, and every race struggled to carry it the same- as if physical strength were no determinant in it's handleability. It smelled faintly of very strong concentrated herbs and seawater, the stone itself sounding with a dull, flat thud when struck without vibration. No matter it's age, Shadegrain could not be weathered by any means, decades and centuries of burning, washing, or wind, would have no effect on the stone and leave it entirely unharmed.

Effects

Shadegrain, Grimstone, Fused Stone, whatever the name granted- seemed to bear a multitude of strange and unconventional effects. For example, when in a mere [8, quiet] metre range of the stone, life would seem to slow and quiet. Almost as if the outside world were muted, nothing but the most uninhibited and natural sounds would roll through. Such as a quiet breeze, a distant rain, a shore miles away, or even just pure silence. One's sounds within the square were not affected by any means, nor was their physical hearing of the outside- the perception of attention would just be focused to something else. Whatever this something else was, it seemed to be incomprehensible, or simply misunderstood, by mortal and immortal beings. As if one were listening for something which was not there, or perhaps was- it was just as if the listener did not know what they were listening for.

Another noticeable effect was specifically on spectral undead; spirits, spectres, poltergeists, gravens, and wights most specifically. Within the [20, roleplay] metre range of a unit of stone, spectral undead seemed to be extremely inhibited within physical capability. Limited to half pace movement and strength, spectrals felt as if they were persistently being pulled to the stone. Almost as if their very soul were being tugged, a spectral would constantly be fighting to resist the drift of the stone. If killed within the presence of a stone, a spectral has the potential of having their soul being bound and ripped from the mortal plane, taken for whatever unknown purpose the stone exists for. In most circumstances however, being banished within the presence of Shadegrain prolongs the reformation of a spectral undead, doubling it's time.

Red Lines

-Shadegrain must be represented with a block placed in the world, and must be ST signed.

-Spectrals are not mandated to PK within the presence of Shadegrain and are simply given the option.

-Spectrals killed within the 20 metre presence of Shadegrain are given respawn timers twice as long. Refer to individual lorepieces for more information on respawn timers.

-Spectrals are defined as ghosts, spectres, spirits, poltergeists, gravens, wights, and any undead or event creature with a ghostly or apparition-like appearance.

-Arcane Scions or other lorepieces which involve a directly exposed soul are permitted to act in the same sluggish or inhibited manner, but are unrequired to.

-Shadegrain may not be broken, re-shaped, molded, or fused to other pieces of Shadegrain in any permanent manner; remaining in individual blocks or bricks.

-Shadegrain is too heavy to carry on one's person and fight effectively, leaving it strictly to buildings or ritualistic sites. If upon a person, Shadegrain would quarter one's movement or strength which was otherwise dedicated to lugging around the stone. The spirit of this line is to prevent mobile use of the material. There is no gimmick or way around this.

-Shadegrain did not deafen the sounds within it's range or mute sounds from outside, just altering one's perception to focus on pure unnerving silence.

-Shadegrain would not be clearly discernable by any magic of it's true creation, intent, purpose, or instilled magic/effect until further eventlines play out.

-Shadegrain when broken, would break all at once- destroying the material and leaving a mundane black paint behind.

-The stains/paint created by Shadegrain, intact or not, would not bear the effect of Shadegrain and would not permanently adhere to skin, fur, or any part of a living person, save for their items or belongings. The paint would easily be washed off.

Harvesting

Shadegrain currently has no known method of harvesting, nor true point of origin. Prolifically found throughout the northern coast of Aevos, Shadegrain was rarely found in singular units; often through old storages left behind of The Goldenvine Colony, as the Shadegrain present there is found fused together and unbreakable. It is unknown how Shadegrain is formed, or it's intent.  

Looking downward upon the most of Aevos, The Mountain and it's eminence look down upon the continent with majesty, and might. The Mountain and it's majesty pierced the sky's heart, the blood of clouds swirling in a neverending vortex upon it's invisible peak. The Mountaintop held mystery, as much as it did control of the meek continent.

The Leviathan, The Giant, The Emergence of Fate

The tallest point upon all of Aevos, The Mountain is a peak in the far north of the frozen wastes of Ailmere. It brushes one edge along the icy Bitter Sea, and another 'pon the valley of Ailmere. The mountain was snowed-in year round, with even ice growing over the harsh and jagged rocks surrounding the massive rock. The Mountain was ever shrouded in a storm of some kind, with tumultuous stormclouds swirling about the mountain top in an ever-raging storm. In the spring and summer, a deep red which brightly lit the night sky as if it were day bled from the mountaintop as the clouds shifted with seasons. In the colder months during autumn and winter, a blackened vortex swirled around the giant, full of anger and wroth.

The Mountain seemed as if it were the centre of the continent, all fates tied to the great rock. Lost travellers inadvertantly, no matter their place, ended up making their way toward The Mountain. Adventurers stricken with wanderlust who had taken to the sea would be pulled to it. From the Great Storm and to it's footsteps, adventurers would be dragged as if the very threads of fate were manipulated to bring them to it's place. Those caught within it's ineffable pull were doomed with cryptic visions and prophecies, ones which were always twisted in some manner to fit the pulled's own narrative. As if a method to cope, or make reason, of the inevitability of destiny.

The Mountain stands imposing upon Aevos, it's peak unreachable and obscured by heavy stormclouds which struck at those who dared to challenge it. It commanded gazes across the continent, visible for miles offshore as well as the storms and light that emanated from it's peak. Many have tried, and none have returned, of those who have attempted to conquer The Mountain. Those sorry souls caught within it's pull slave to fate, and surrendered to destiny.

When fate dawns in the twilight of armageddon, The Mountain and it's true purpose may unveil, it's grip upon Aevos thereon unforeseen. 

OOC Information

The Mountain is a supplemental piece to Ailmere and multiple other lorepieces throughout the map. It's influence and purpose will be tied in through multiple interactions throughout Aevos. Players or ET may utilize The Mountain's calling in a similar method to The Great Storm, in which people feel controlled, paranoid of, curious about, or what have you in regards to The Mountain. This lorepiece will expand and develop as eventlines play throughout the map's lifespan. There may be prophecies that occur throughout the map and interactions with Palmreading in regards to The Mountain as well as other maplore pieces.

Gazing eternally upon the north-shore of Aevos, The Drowned Strand was a long stretch of cliffs, rocks, and shoreline that protected the northern coast of the continent from harsh monsoons and sea-storms which battered the coast. The Drowned Strand was a place with an air of tragedy and heaviness, one which brought the mere spirit of one's presence slow and sluggish. Legend of the ruined port of Goldenvine which once ruled the northern coast in luxury haunted the few who lived there, and the many who would travel.

The Strand

The Drowned Strand was a cold, Taiga-forest which was peppered with snow all year round. Harsh flurries flew from the western tundra of Ailmere whilst The Bitter Sea to the north blew harsh and climactic winds against the coastline, giving it features of heavy-scaling rocks and weathered boulders covered in grime and barnacles that coated them like a plague. Storms crashed against the coast from the north, the waters perpetually tumultuous and brackish with a never-ending sea of driftwood that never ceased to flow upon the land's cursed shores.

Curiously, The Strand was home to a strange, dusty-black stone. Native strictly to the land and found nowhere else upon Aevos- or even Eos for that matter- this blackened stone bore no growths, no chips, dents, or signs of wear- even unaffected by the erosion of the sea, with pillars of the black rock stalwart against the constant battle of the tide. The blackened stone, Shadegrain, would make up the most remarkable landmark upon all of the northern coastline. 

Despite this, the land was wracked with evidence of ruins from great tides of days long past. Tsunami's and storms which battered those out at sea and near the coast, the shoreline would be wrecked with sheer cliff faces, wreckage new and old strewn about the rocky and unfriendly beaches, and no trees upon their hilltops; most blown away or broken by the strong winds and mighty waves that crash against the shore.

However, with all the calamity the land faces, life still finds a way to thrive within The Drowned Strand. Creatures from the depths of the seafloor to the damp warmth of the shore and tidepools would live plentifully among the land. Crabs, urchins, starfish, rockfish, and shrimp would live in bounty amongst the shore, whilst farther out at sea do Shuul, Korcal, Hippocampus, Shulkra, sharks, bass, char, and cod plentifully make up the populace of The Bitter Sea despite it's chaotic and tumultuous nature beneath The Great Storm. 

The air was as salty as the sea, as most days of the year The Drowned Strand was plagued with mild snows and heavy winds and rains. The nearby forests were littered with nurse logs, broken stumps, and fungi which grew heartily in the land of decay. Serpent's Stalk, Gislocinovi, Deep's Gleam, and Aqua Nymph grew in pitiful amounts in the forests and shoreline of The Drowned Strand, often trapped in the tidepools upon the seashore. Shells of hermit crabs, clams, mussels, and oysters were found in mighty amount, often weathered and waned from the degradation of time and repeated battering of the harsh sea.

Curiously, the most notable habits of The Strand were found within the effects of The Heavy Heart- some believe it a folktale, others swear by it. Yet, it's effects were prevalent; ever since The Tragedy of The Goldenvine Company, peoples living within The Drowned Strand devote themselves to the myth that was The Heavy Heart, described below.

The Tragedy of Goldenvine

Centuries before the descendant's arrival upon Aevos, it was upon the lands of Aeldin in the Kingdom of Agathor where the struggling company of Goldenvine Ventures sought a direly needed solution. A dry few years of drought plagued the lands, jewelry priced the same as bread as noble and serf alike struggled to feed themselves and their young. Tarriffs in nearby kingdoms were high, and yet the rich ruby mines of Agathor provided for none. As with many man in the kingdom at the time, people had sought any work or venture which had paid them. Goldenvine Ventures, a shipping company in the face of complete financial collapse, broke sea to revive an old shipping route with a distant island unnamed, yet charted upon every map. 

The sea was remarkably gentle, and easy upon the desperate sailors as they eventually broke land. Upon arrival, the dozen-manned crew found a remnant city built of stone and wood, yet abandoned and in ruin. Without a soul to be seen did they find a city waterlogged, yet seemingly with sturdy defenses; titanic, smooth black walls of fused stone which surely could provide ample protection from the sea outside. Even the homes incorporated the stone, which still stood despite the wreck of town and ship that uglied the area like remnants of a bloody murder. Within the cliffside of the rocky town as a large statue of a veiled woman with a bell of fused black stone plated in gold. Ominous and foreboding, but the men were undeterred by the ecstasy of exploration. 

With the calm waters and favourable terrain, Goldenvine Ventures would begin a small trading port upon this new, unbroken land. Meant to be a stop upon the long journeys around Aeldin, or even a trade-port itself for timber, potatoes, shellfish, and jewels. Although too heavy to transport, there was a remarkable supply of the aforementioned black stone. Far more sturdy and gritty, it broke as if one would break wet sand- yet it took dozens of strikes of the pick to even cause it to break.

Sailors from Aeldin and beyond rarely heard or cared for the name of Goldenvine, yet it's usefulness did have niche within the struggling market of the time. The town and it's denizens thrived, and yet so did the wealth it brought back to Agathor. As men, women, and children, fled for ships to this new promised land, so too did they help colonize the distant port which fed riches back to the home.  Although sailor's tales are often far spun from their original spool, word did reach of troubles in the colony. Not struggles with living; but with the dead. Tales of ghosts, phantoms, spooks and more surrounded the port with superstition. The imposing black stone fortress in which the city resided in added none, for the juxtaposition to the pleasant wooden shantytown was all too predictable to some. As the years went by and the rains returned to Agathor, the unremarkable colony left off all but the most detailed maps faded away into obscurity. 

One day it simply seemed as if Goldenvine Ventures and their port-colony of Goldenvine had just disappeared. Sailors spoke little of it, and ships that ventured to the port never returned. Shipments had stopped coming from Goldenvine and it's mysterious new island. In the decades that followed, obsessive expeditions by the governor of Agathor ventured north to reclaim the profitable colony and claim it oncemore for Empire. However, each ship could not find the island; using even the most accurate of maps and nautical tools, Goldenvine and it's mysterious island had just vanished into the sea.

Tales regarding Goldenvine's existence began to draw conspiracy and confusion about it's nature. Many began to question if there was truly a Goldenvine to begin with- perhaps a way for the nobility to dispose of mass amounts of peasants to spare food? A place to stow away their gold and riches to better steal away from the poor? Or perhaps it truly did exist; but was an escape, a paradise unforetold exclusively for the rich and powerful. Even the nobility had their own deviant thoughts. The poor and unnotable Goldenvine Ventures, rumoured to having started as smugglers, worked on behalf of another rivaling kingdom to steal their serfs and their riches. A funnel for wealth whilst they diabolical company salted their fields and plagued their grain to make an extra pound of gold. 

The truth of Goldenvine Ventures and their flagship port is now a distant tale of greed, viewed with disdain and distrust by all for it's dubious and unknown nature. Perhaps it wasn't real; and sailor's tales just live on.

The Heavy Heart

The Heavy Heart is the phrase for a physical and emotional weight that plagues one upon the northern coast. Despite death, spirits of the dead seemed to linger and flash back to the surface. When walking through The Drowned Strand, it was as if strolling through a graveyard; silence, calmness, and a low sense of dread that boiled beneath the surface. 

It was frequent in which travelers and wanderers would find themselves talking to someone, who when unviewed, simply disappeared; leaving behind only a watery puddle where they had once stood. It seemed there were dozens of wild and intrepid explorers throughout the region, yet they would simply vanish into nothing. The question of the traveller's sanity would be questioned, if it were not for the wide spread and independent nature of the accounts. 

Those journeying to The Drowned Strand could witness the effect themselves. People walking about their lives in between moments, vanishing and reappearing when one's attention was not upon them. Vivid conversations recalled with people who, in the blink of an eye, simply were there no longer. Seawater-soaked belongings, handshakes, beds, tents, and campfires smothered reports which came out of the land. The Heavy Heart was a mysterious effect that any but those within the region would vehemently deny and write off as mere superstition. But to those that had witnessed it- it was as real as the vanished themselves.

OOC Information

Goldenvine Ventures, as it is told upon this post, is considered open knowledge and anyone may recall, spin, twist, or add onto the tale as they please. The true fate of Goldenvine Ventures and their colony will be expanded upon (within this post) at a later date as eventlines occur. The Heavy Heart is available to roleplay by any, and in short detail, describes spirits of the dead returning to very real physical forms that behave normally; as if the soul and it's attached person had never died to begin with. This can include interactions with characters native to the region, or characters of your own that may have died there, so long as you have an applicable Phantom/Wight CA. 

For ET, please use the above for whatever instance you would like to for an event, and refer to the backface document for more explanation, details, and examples.

The Great Expanse of central Aevos, The Divide marks the rolling hills and plains that make up a bulk of the continent's interior. Forgivingly easy to traverse and remarkably tranquil, The Divide seems to be the coveted land of kings from around the world. Multiple expeditions from nations old and young have failed each time in their journey to reach the land which would build empires. Peculiar that the skies above The Divide seemed to be an ocean more complex than the waters surrounding Aevos.

The Stars That Divide

The Divide is a land remarkable for its beauty and terrain. The greenest land upon Aevos, The Divide bore an aspect unseen in any other territory- and yet it’s most beautiful sight. The skies of The Divide were unlike anywhere else upon Eos. Beautiful arrays of vibrantly clear cosmic storms and nebulas, tumultuous clouds which reflected the vibrant colours of the sky both day and night. Everpresent, although easiest seen in the night, was a star that had shined brighter than even the moon. A brilliant blue light immeasurably far in the distance, it gave off a soft glow that made even the darkest nights visible with a soft sapphire hue.

Curiously, the land’s rocks and stones would be of an odd and nonsensical makeup- different types of stone scattered in a strange patchwork throughout The Divide as the earth seemed completely jumbled and disjointed. Volcanic stones beneath simple meadows, deep-sea sediment under hills and beside fertile surface earth. There was no clear age to the land nor it's makeup, as young and unbroken stones often would lay beneath broken and ancient rocks which clearly had not been moved in centuries. Gemstones mined from The Divide seemed to be far more brilliant in colour, and remarkably pure with little contamination.

Alongside this curious makeup of the earth, the ground would often violently shake for periods lasting from seconds to minutes. Earthquakes rattled the land frequently as the earth below trembled. Curiously, with each earthquake, the skies would seem to shake too.

Habiting the land were typical creatures found in plains, forests, and hills - Coltsfoot, Tippen's Root, King's Ivy, Nightglow, Amberriddle, Blissfoil, Alabaster Leaf and more were found dotted along the landscape of maple, oak, aspen, and birch trees. Shardspine Raptors made their dens within the caves that dotted the land whilst Trolls fought for the very same homes beneath the rock and earth. Praerie Dulks and Direwolves strode as kings of the land, roaming throughout the plains between the various patches of forest that were scattered across The Divide.

The area had a sense of uninterrupted, careful peace which almost gave off a sense of uneasiness. Despite the odd geology and harsh tectonic activity, the land offered a serenity found nowhere else on Aevos. 

OOC Information

The Divide is a portion of the map meant to be a bit of a break from the deep mystery and tragedy that may surround other areas of Aevos. Don't be deceived however- The Stars That Divide hold mysteries of their own soon to be discovered. This post will be updated as eventlines throughout the map progress. The Geology of The Divide being a complete jumble is at free will for players to notice and roleplay, as well as the blue star that always watches over. 

Description

Plentifully filling the seas of north and east Aevos, Sweetrock was a plentiful mineral found throughout The Bitter Sea characterized by it's unique composition. The stones themselves were often ranging between the size of peppercorns and boulders, although the larger the mineral the rarer they were dredged from the sea. Easily collected from beaches, tidepools, and shallow waters, Sweetrock was a gritty black or gray stone with a hard exterior shell highly resistant to weathering, and retaining an extremely salty taste. When brushed along objects the rock would leave behind a wet, grimey streak from the congealed seawater and seasalt around it's edges, and bore a mild artificial fruit scent. 

Named for it, Sweetrock when cracked open revealed a dense crystalline sugar often tough and hard to crack. The sugars within tasted of a pure sugar-syrup, and had a muddy green colour. The chalky and tough crust of the rock itself was harshly salty, even when cleaned of the grime which would annoyingly linger days after extraction from the sea unless cleaned. Sweetrock seemed bountiful in the ocean, drawing no natural predators or feeders who may subsist upon such a concentrated form of energy. Although animals would find it pleasant to taste, none seemed to actively know how to break the rock upon their own; leading to their prolific presence within the seas.

Notably, the sugary mineral closest to the core of the rock would seem mildly salty, and would bear a unique flavour akin to caramel.

Red Lines

-Sweetrock acts as a mundane sweetener, and is able to balance out acidity well in foods. 

-Sweetrock is not poison or toxin by any means.

-Sweetrock is ST Signed and gathered from the botany plugin. Items made from or with Sweetrock are NOT ST Signed.

Harvesting

Sweetrock would be found in The Bitter Sea, which covers the north to eastern parts of Aevos. It would be in chunks both small as pebbles and large as boulders, although larger deposits were found further out at sea. Sweetrock was easily gatherable by it's nature of being independent loose rocks, and could just be grabbed and broken open to get to the mineral sugar within. Gathered in beaches, tidepools, or shallow seawaters, Sweetrock was plentiful and undifficult to harvest or find in nature.

Signs/Symbols

Fire | Life (x2)

Fire | Rigidity (x2)
Fire | Connection (x1)

Looking downward upon the most of Aevos, The Mountain and it's eminence look down upon the continent with majesty, and might. The Mountain and it's majesty pierced the sky's heart, the blood of clouds swirling in a neverending vortex upon it's invisible peak. The Mountaintop held mystery, as much as it did control of the meek continent.

The Leviathan, The Giant, The Emergence of Fate

The tallest point upon all of Aevos, The Mountain is a peak in the far north of the frozen wastes of Ailmere. It brushes one edge along the icy Bitter Sea, and another 'pon the valley of Ailmere. The mountain was snowed-in year round, with even ice growing over the harsh and jagged rocks surrounding the massive rock. The Mountain was ever shrouded in a storm of some kind, with tumultuous stormclouds swirling about the mountain top in an ever-raging storm. In the spring and summer, a deep red which brightly lit the night sky as if it were day bled from the mountaintop as the clouds shifted with seasons. In the colder months during autumn and winter, a blackened vortex swirled around the giant, full of anger and wroth.

The Mountain seemed as if it were the centre of the continent, all fates tied to the great rock. Lost travellers inadvertantly, no matter their place, ended up making their way toward The Mountain. Adventurers stricken with wanderlust who had taken to the sea would be pulled to it. From the Great Storm and to it's footsteps, adventurers would be dragged as if the very threads of fate were manipulated to bring them to it's place. Those caught within it's ineffable pull were doomed with cryptic visions and prophecies, ones which were always twisted in some manner to fit the pulled's own narrative. As if a method to cope, or make reason, of the inevitability of destiny.

The Mountain stands imposing upon Aevos, it's peak unreachable and obscured by heavy stormclouds which struck at those who dared to challenge it. It commanded gazes across the continent, visible for miles offshore as well as the storms and light that emanated from it's peak. Many have tried, and none have returned, of those who have attempted to conquer The Mountain. Those sorry souls caught within it's pull slave to fate, and surrendered to destiny.

When fate dawns in the twilight of armageddon, The Mountain and it's true purpose may unveil, it's grip upon Aevos thereon unforeseen. 

OOC Information

The Mountain is a supplemental piece to Ailmere and multiple other lorepieces throughout the map. It's influence and purpose will be tied in through multiple interactions throughout Aevos. Players or ET may utilize The Mountain's calling in a similar method to The Great Storm, in which people feel controlled, paranoid of, curious about, or what have you in regards to The Mountain. This lorepiece will expand and develop as eventlines play throughout the map's lifespan. There may be prophecies that occur throughout the map and interactions with Palmreading in regards to The Mountain as well as other maplore pieces.

Sleeping within the day and roaring to life in the dusk of night, The Dreamer's Marsh sits quietly in the Southwest of Aevos. A land which bore a strange curse, one that did not kill nor wound. A long, dreamless slumber from which none would ever wake. Unvisited, uncolonized, The Dreamer's Marsh would be marked as an avoided coast by sailors from around Eos. 

The Marsh

Between dawn and dusk, the marsh is somewhat common in nature. Thick bushy shrubs that sup from the saline waters that the gentle tides bring in from the sea. Tall and spindly mangroves dot the marsh, giving the water a brackish and dirty hue that acts as a curtain for the riverbeds below. The muddy brown waters themselves were host to lily pads, dull green algae which foamed and stagnated, lichen and moss. 

With the tides comes the natural offerings of the sea, from driftwood to broken shiphulls which dot the sunken coastline. Dumped cargo, remnants of ships lost and destroyed, and ancient debris from civilizations long forgotten wash ashore to the edges of the silent swamp. Bodies from the sea which come along it's quaint shore show up somewhat frequently, with remnants of sea-battles and lost expeditions scattered among the shoreline. 

Mud and tangled roots tangle the ground of the marsh's uneven terrain, with pockets of quicksand making the land somewhat treacherous. Twisted and gnarled branches loomed overhead in the sparse canopy, which cast strange shadows below that seemed to dance and move as if displaying movements from another plane entirely. One invisible, and unseen.

The air was scented with salt of the sea and rot of the corpses which washed ashore, mildew and mold growing on whatever surface damp and warm enough. However, hint of something just else just beyond scent could be sensed aswell. Something familiar- as if it were something you had smelled before. A memory of childhood? Perhaps of a time of great strife and struggle? It was unclear, either way- and unique to each visitor.

The Marsh was rich with herbs aswell, for the alchemists and florists daring (or foolish) enough to enter would find them rich and in good quantity. The thick moss which covered most surfaces of the swamp, Hiding Moss, seemed to have good use in alchemy. Alongside this, Mandragora, Swamp Blossom, Bitter Reed, Jailor's Moss, Nightsap, Aquate Root, Aqua Nymph, and Dwarf's Pumpkin. 

With all this, the land seemed somewhat quiet with life in the day. Mundane reptiles and amphibians of every variety are found here, even Deepsnakes and Parhor which make journey to feed upon the flies and rodents which quickly take advantage of the swamp's life while they can. However, as the sun begins to set and the day turns darker, every form of life that can move would. No animals would willingly go to the swamp, and those forced to, would be extremely uncomfortable and anxious. As the wildlife fled the swamp at twilight, The Nightsong would begin to play; and the swamp would begin to teem with a different kind of life.  

The Nightsong

Between dusk and dawn, The Dreamer's Marsh is a much more treacherous place. A deep, gargantuan cloud of black fog rolls in from the sea which obscures most sight, staying thick within the air until dawn would return. Despite the cloud of darkness which obscured most vision nearby a visitor, the stars seemed impeccably clear. Constellations formed of whatever the mind had envisioned, different to each forsaken visitor who had stayed too long. 

At the witching hour does the marsh truly awaken, teeming with vibrant and beautiful life that was a spectacular sight to see. As if visiting a different realm entirely, spirits and souls of those within The Dreamer's Marsh would begin to dance and sing. Phantoms wove through the fog, some indistinguishable by shape and others closer to their living form. Spirits of animals, insects, plants, and even descendants both living and dead would dance throughout the marsh in rhythmic motion as if one entered the Ebrieates itself. The spirits seemed unresponsive to any form of interaction, passing by visitors as if they simply were not there to begin with. 

The Spirits seemed to all tell stories of their own. Repeat-visitors to The Marsh would find that some spirits seemed to perform the same actions night after night, while others never stayed consistent. Some appeared rarely, some showing themselves again and again each night. Aurum within The Dreamer's Marsh seemed to be entirely ineffective against the spirits which danced and sung, perhaps noting something to their mysterious and beautiful nature.

The swamp itself would look much different aswell, almost otherworldly. The formerly muddy and brackish water would turn a vibrant, bright neon blue-green which danced with spirits big and small that danced above and below the surface. The trees outlined in a dim seafoam green light which coated them from trunk to tip. Flowers and fruits closed and quiet during the day brightly opened and showed, seeming far more healthy and potent than their normal counterpart.

The Hiding Moss within the region would shrivel and sink at the first sign of twilight, shrinking into a highly dense form more resembling a flower or patch of dirt- waiting for the sun's return to expand oncemore. Other flora of The Dreamer's Marsh would glow alight, ethereal torches that lit up the land throughout the dark fog. 

The Dreamless Sleep

Also known as "The Curse of The Marsh", The Dreamless Sleep is why the marsh is so avoided by animals and men alike. When slumbering within The Dreamer's Marsh, animals and descendants alike would rarely enter a comatose state- asleep, unwaking, and unable to arouse. Most would die by starvation or being consumed by the rare predator which made their visit, but none would ever awake. Even taken out of the swamp, the dreamless sleeper would never be able to rouse by any means. Curiously, the unknowing soul of the sleeper would visibly rise from their comatose form when The Nightsong began to play. Venturing outward, the person's spirit would be unable to contact or commune with by any means known.

Simply viewed as some demonic hex upon the land, bodies would decompose and return to the earth despite their spirit's presence which would return again and again- after sleep, death, and even decomposition. The spirit forever trapped within The Nightsong's melody, witnessing and dreaming something unknown entirely beyond their slumber.

OOC Information

The Dreamer's Marsh is a narrative opportunity for players to both end their stories and begin new ones. With eventlines planned down the line for this region, more information will be added to this post as things are discovered and pieces connected by players. In the meantime, one can optionally enter The Dreamless Sleep and may be contacted at a later date, but understand such as an effective PK until the event's date. This includes immortality CAs such as Klones, Azdrazi, and so on that may not be awoken even upon death and reformation. ET-run events not part of the main eventline will be available day-one of the map release for them to run at their own discretion and not by request.

Characters may know of The Dreamer's Marsh and it's effects, but are unaware of it's greater purpose or what happens when one falls into The Dreamless Sleep. This post, it's effects, and more will develop as relevant event plotlines play out.

Information

Hiding Moss is a deep verdant-green moss that expands rapidly when exposed to light from it's inert form. Within light, Hiding Moss is considered normally sized and mundane in comparison to any mundane moss. However, when obscured by darkness for longer than a minute, the moss would significantly reduce itself in volume, no matter it's original size shrinking to the size of one's palm in a dense but light ball. Hiding Moss is known for it's extremely absorbent nature and it's ability to release an  extremely humid mist when contracted. When used to dress wounds, the wound itself would shrink by half over the course of twelve narrative hours.

Alternatively, Hiding Moss would act as a very strong water purifier in survival situations, and when contracting would release a significant amount of it's weight in water through mist. Were one to crush or squeeze the moss deliberately, it would release a cup of sterile, tasteless water per square meter of it's original size. 

Found solely in the western swamps of Aevos, Hiding Moss would continue to exhibit it's odd behaviors even when removed from it's original environment.

Signs/Symbols

Earth | Reduction (x3)

Earth | Fear (x2)
Earth | Dark (x2)

Redlines

-Hiding moss is noded through the botany plugin. Items made using hiding moss are NOT ST Signed.

-The contracting or expanding force of hiding moss is slow and gradual, always taking the path of least resistance. It cannot be used to bind, wrap, crush, or flood someone.

-Hiding moss cannot be combined with one another and act as individual organisms when in their inert form.

-When processed for it's signs and symbols, the herb would lose it's raw effects and harvested capabilities.

-Hiding moss's weight is not proportional to it's original size in it's contracted form. When contracted, Hiding Moss sheds almost all of it's weight and is extremely dry and nonabsorbent.

-Swallowing Hiding Moss is harmless and would cause at most stomach upset. 

-Hiding Moss only expands when exposed to sunlight for over a minute and contracted when exposed to darkness for over a minute. 

Nestled between the cold, frozen tundra of Ailmere and the southern valleys of Aevos, The Crothstad Woodlands lay as a quite respite from shore to centre as the trees sprawled from the western shores to the great rivers of the continent. Christened at each dawn and dusk with the howls of wolfpacks aplenty within the region, The Woodlands would be a serene- and dangerous- place that many hardy peoples would call home.

The Woodlands

The Woodlands themselves were thick and sprawling, with spruce, evergreen, and pine trees dotting the land all throughout. Rocks and boulders from the nearby snowcapped peaks tumbled down and made their way all across the tiered woodland, which rose from cliff to the dip of a valley as quickly as it did beautifully. The rivers bore rocky beds home to salmon and trout which would leave the cold north in the summers to spawn in the rivers and ponds to the land's south- the porous cliffs with each waterfall allowing fish ways upward and unseen, safe from predator and fisher alike.

The rocky riverbeds gave life and fertility to the lands surrounding, whilst the majority of The Woodland had a tough and rocky soil unripe for crop and plantation. Despite this, grass and vegetation seemed to grow handily with a multitude of berries, rhubarb, onions, and beets naturally growing and giving both life and sustenance to the nearby region.

The air was crisp and invigorating, carrying the scent of the same pines and cold frost which blanketed the region throughout the year. While the snows were light, the area was glossed with ice with each long and heavy winter. Sunlight flowed from above through the needles of pines and firs to the ground below, covered in a heavy duff of needles and pinecones left over from seasons prior. Mushrooms grew upon fallen logs which stayed through the thick and thin of seasons, the land providing abundant life to all pieces of the cycle. 

Aside from the rushing waters and occasional rumble of wildlife, the land was quiet and remarkably peaceful. Serene and tranquil, the expanse of wilderness stretched far as untamed woodland and wildlife made this piece of Eos their home. Thick layers of moss clung to the trunks of trees and boulders both grand and humble, as daylight shone over the river-valley for so long. Dark shadows cast over the crags and into the caves which provided shelter for much of the riverland wildlife, giving a sense of majesty and grace to the land untouched by man.

The woodland was home to many a species of animal from all around Eos. Whilst Athin, Frostvine, Bitter Reed, Blissfoil, and Nightglow grew in bushels and cliffsides, many creatures populated the woodland in healthy numbers. Great elk, Grizzly bears, Vowl, Bokolo, Tundrastriders, Hares, Foxes, Lynx, Snow Leopards, Squirrels, Imps, and Direwolves populated the biome most notably amongst countless other creatures found within the cold forest. 

Curiously, the land was ripe for creatures to grow and populate rapidly- leading to the phenomenon known as The Endless Hunt.

The Legend of Crothstad

Legend tells of a Hunter, perhaps as old as The Four Brothers himself, named Crothstad. His true name, race, even sex by some accounts- has been completely lost to time. Whoever this hunter was, he did not matter before he arrived to the forests of Aevos. Among the few who would ever survive upon the continent longer than days, Crothstad just like them would go missing with time; his true fate left unknown. Arriving with a hunting party in the tens, Crothstad had gathered the greatest hunters of his clan far beyond the misty seas, arriving to the continent in search of greatness and glory. By one account of the expedition, legend told tale of a creature which lived within The Woodland of Aevos. A serpentine creature tall and long, which an amalgam of mottled brown fur and scales. Two heads, breathing an acidic flame from it's mouth of a thousand teeth. It flew, but not far, and it's scorpion-tail could crush a man better than injecting it with deadly venom. The Great Chimera it was named, a creature which would seal Crothstad into history forever.

Rumour has it that Crothstad had the head of an elk, with antlers long and bone white- aged well as the hunter covered himself in furs and runes whos meanings were lost to time. Armed with a heavy sword Trailblazer and his greatbow Lif, Crothstad set foot upon the shores of Aevos with his expedition in close follow. The land was harsh, and unknown to them, The Endless Hunt had made their lives even more difficult from a phenomenon they did not understand. They ate well, but the creatures of The Woodland were larger than any they'd ever met- fighting fiercer and smarter, and without making a dent in their numbers. They seemed completely unafraid of the adventurers, yet, when they saw the bone-white skull of The Great Hunter, they did cower.

Unlike his comrades, Crothstad thrived within the land. Each hunt exhilarating, and while he showed no unnecessary boasting in his kills, he did humble himself with each creature utilized and respected to it's fullest extent. Charms of bones and shrines to gods forgotten made with what he and his compatriots could not utilize. Crothstad each day swore that he was closer and closer to finding The Great Chimera, which had still yet to be seen- it's brown scales and tattered wings hidden somewhere within the thick woodland.

It was over the course of a year that his party dwindled to but a couple of men retaining, those closest and most understanding of Crothstad and his ways. Mimicking him did well, yet they always lived within the shadow of his past footsteps. Where he dodged some great beast's strike or avoided the gnashing teeth of a wolfpack, the remaining party were too slow and beaten. They had sons, daughters, husbands, and wives to return to back within their kingdom which was surely awaiting their return. The remaining two beckoned their leader to return- and austerely, did he refuse. Driven with a bloodlust to find this great creature which had evaded him, the remaining party had lost their last of hopes. Packing what they had and trophies of their hunt, the two left their obsessed leader; keeping the legend alive, and tales of The Crothstad Expedition spread. 

Yet the tale does not quite find it's end there. By account of the remaining two hunters who's names had been forgotten, the shadow of great broken wings was seen from the mouth of the channel they had sought to escape by. The Great Chimera, they had thought- indeed, with it's elongated tale and great mane, a head of bone-white and body of dark scales and fur, perhaps Crothstad would finally meet his match. It is unknown what fate lay of Crothstad or The Great Chimera, as the adventurers returned home to tales of guts and glory with their wonderous trophies of battle. The Legend of Crothstad lived on, spread as a tale by sailors, hunters, young and old alike of a man both driven, obsessed, even crazed. Each tale differed by culture and it's teller, but one thing remained the same; The Great Chimera lived, as did The Great Hunter who sought to bring it to it's end.

The Endless Hunt

The Endless Hunt is a phenomenon within The Crothstad Woodlands of unknown origin, in which the Fauna of the land behaved and appeared differently than any other of their species. To begin, creatures of The Crothstad Woodland would reproduce rapidly- growing and maturing within just a couple of months to years, rather than up to a decade. The offspring and each creature within The Woodland was mighty and robust, growing healthily without defect or disadvantage in their growth. Each animal grew up to twice as large compared to their regular counterpart, with Elk ranging from the size of a Human to the size of an Olog. 

These animals bore a unique feature that they were completely unafraid of descendants- never having been exposed to them before in any notable capacity, descendants would simply be another creature in their woodland. Elk approached men both in curiosity and defense of their territory, bears unafraid of the sounds of hooves and descendant voice. More akin to prey, descendants within The Woodland would simply be another creature within it's complex ecosystem- their stone walls and thick doors the only separation from themselves and the beasts which lay beyond. 

Descendants themselves were spared from this effect, even new species brought unto the land did not quite benefit from the same unique phenomenon. Almost as if unique to the species of the land, The Endless Hunt only affected fauna native to The Crothstad Woodlands, leaving descendant and their invading creatures untouched. 

Every year within the woodlands, creatures both young and old would emerge from their dens and nests to various spots around the forest in which flora refused to grow; bowing their heads remaining quiet as the moon reached it's apex. An hour after silence and stillness within the forest after the new year had come to pass, all creatures would return to whence they came; peaceful, and without a sound.

OOC Information

The Crothstad Woodlands will allow players and ET alike to run creature events for DIY creatures, but as well larger hunt events with more challenging enemies to consider how prepared descendants are in most fights. Akin to a monter-hunter type game, creatures within this biome should be significantly more difficult to take down and should often involve multiple phases of hunt- like tracking, identifying, hunting, and butchering rather than just the prior two. 

Creatures involved in these hunt events still follow DIY guidelines, and should not be used as pets, guardians, or to attack settlements/players who do not wish to be involved in the event. Player creatures, players, npcs, and so on are unaffected by The Endless Hunt. The Legend of Crothstad, The Endless Hunt, and so on are known ICly and are not knowledge-locked by any means. Your character can obviously embellish, lie, or add onto the legend however they may please to add flavor and thematic that your character may interpret from the story. Crothstad and The Great Chimera are off limits to roleplay or utilize in events of until further notice, but will be developed later onward. 

For ET: Refer to the Maplore Backface document for further details on doing events in this region.

The Anomaly

Surrounding Aevos was a great, tumultuous storm that raged on day and night. Whilst the coasts of the island remained fairly mundane and expected in weather, just shortly off the coast- visible from every beach, shoreline, cliff, and mountain, was The Great Storm. Dark, stone-black stormclouds that battered the stirring seas below that swirled and boiled with anger. Mighty waves the size of giants crashed upon one another, the winds fickle and free as they blew every which way chaotically and unpredictably. Pure anger and torment surrounded the continent, seemingly deep within the eye of whatever great vortex swirled around Aevos.

Throughout the storm, those unfortunate enough to find themselves in would find themselves swollen with anger and irritability, atop of the highly stressful environment that tested the wills of even the mightiest on Eos. Sunken and broken ships were strewn about by the hundreds within the storm's control, destroyed by it's crashing waves and violent winds. Each wave enough to swallow an entire galleon whole, with rains that pelted with such tremendous force they bruised bare flesh. 

With each passing hour did the storm remain the same, for months, years, and decades at a time- never once relenting or changing as the storm prevented any and all travel from the island but for those lucky enough to escape, and unlucky enough to find themselves upon the untamed frontier of Aevos. Curiously, despite how remote Aevos was in comparison to continents elsewhere on Aos or Eos, Aevos seemed to have a steady supply of explorers, expeditions, and more that attempted to come to the island. For those who had spent even a moment upon Aevos, there would be an unearthly, burning calling within them to return to the continent. Venturing to Aeldin or elsewhere, any descendant not upon the continent would feel an otherworldly desire to return. 

And The Exception

Despite the storm's chaotic wrath and nature, descendants arriving to Aevos seemed to cause the storm to briefly subside. As if the gate of a city opening for their entrance, descendants  who had never ventured to the continent before seemed to be granted safe passage; even one upon a full crew were granted safe harbour through the storm. 

Descendants attempting to leave were brought much more treacherous fate, and were very uncommon. Those attempting to leave Aevos would face the harsh and brutal waves of the continent head-on, with few ever surviving even minutes in the storm. Many would join the crews sunken at the bottom of the raging storm, whilst the lucky few made their way through. Even the most expert admirals and captains would find themselves tested to their fullest capability within the storm. However, once cleared, those very lucky few who would manage to leave would feel the burning, never-ending desire to return to the island. Nagging at their very mind every minute, those who managed to leave would never truly ever stay away from the continent. Upon their return, the storm would greet them the same as any newcomer; allowing entrance and free passage, in exchange for the peace of mind.

Navigators from other continents, known as Wayfinders, seemed adept at navigating the storm, albeit with the same difficulties and tribulations the storms brought. These highly skilled arcane navigators would be able to, most of the time, find their way to and from the continent. Albeit, rarely, and often avoided, Wayfinders would still find their way to Aevos should the time absolutely call for it.

Everything about The Great Storm and it's effects seemed driven by fate, and destiny. Whatever had brought the descendants to Aevos, be it luck or misfortune, seemed to wish to keep them there. Perhaps it was not simply whatever; but whoever.

OOC Information

The Great Storm is a plotline that will last throughout the entirety of Aevos from start to finish. This lore permits Wayfinders to come to and from Aevos, as well as descendants to freely come and rarely leave. Despite the rare exception of leaving, most descendants would end up returning to Aevos no matter what- a calling far beyond them beckoning them in their everyday elsewhere to return. 

The Oasis

The Thirsting Oasis was covered in a thicket of fog, bridled by a verdant or turquoise glow, and crags filled with screaming horrors. Streams of water run through an abundance of tree-life, yet though great in flora, it seems to lack much of the natural fauna cast in great forests or groves. Although the conditions of the environment would make it seem incapable of sustaining life, the oasis continues to grow unnaturally in size and depth - vines twisting and sprouting from the ground, or odd blooming flowers glimmering in the darkness. 

A blanket of eternal night invokes spectres to linger in the Thirsting Oasis, filling the air with foul screams of shackled ghouls, or bulbous red eyes cast in shadows from leering poltergeists. The most common creature of the living to be found in the sprawling oasis are feral mist-hounds, nocturnal beasts that hunt in the dark - invoking a harsh cold wherever they wander.

Adventurers would find the area to be filled with an eerie, otherworldly ambiance; branches on trees reaching out in a macabre dancing, and echoes of whispers slithering into the air. Ethereal lights and glows seep through all manners of flora, all sourced from the horrendous Apparition. The atmosphere is permeated with an unsettling chill, as melancholic spectres drift in bodies of fog. 

Most common flora found in the thirsting oasis include: Serpent’s Stalk, Aquanymph, Padfoot, Nightsap, Nightglow, and Javens. However, some unknown flora sprout from their roots, twitching and moving as if possessed by ghosts. 

The rivers and streams of abnormal water flowing through crevices and cracks of the thirsting oasis possess an affliction; a curse whereby all who gaze into them see reflections of haunting ghosts and souls - known dead people, cadavers of pets or animals. 

The Culmination of Thirst

In ages long past, before even the arrival of the Mori’Quessir to Aevos, two tribes had claimed their stake amongst the sands of the desert. Lost people of the land, but of different stock and tradition, the tribes first settled when the desert was fertile; rain came often enough to support their crops, water ran from the mountains into fresh springs not too far from their homes, and the desert presented few dangers beyond a heat that their constitutions could well endure.

Like most things, it was not to last. Drought came upon the continent of Aevos, strangling its various climates, but its deserts most of all. The island springs dried up, the tribes’ wells soon ran empty, and those of their kin which held territories less parched by the drought were not keen to share their water. It took only weeks for the thirst to take hold, and a few months before only a single source remained, and desperation burgeoned.

An oasis, deep within the desert; one previously too distant to be worth such a trek, but then, gleaming like a jewel which promised survival. At first, bands of the two tribes shared this lone source of life, but it could not support the two forever. Each band of water-gatherers returned to report it dwindling day by scorching day. The conclusion was inevitable and mutual; if only one tribe could survive, it would be their own.

Mustering their warriors, each and every soul weak with dehydration, the two tribes’ armies marched upon the oasis, intent to claim it for themselves and fend off any who might seek to consume its bounty. When the forces came face-to-face, there was no question left to ask, no empathy left to offer. It now mattered only who would survive, and who would be left as dry as the sun-scorched sands.

Every noble warrior of each tribe fought for their lives. No quarter, no mercy, the armies clashed for a day and a night in total, bathing the greenery, colouring the water with their blood. Numbers dwindled until there were but two, neither with the strength to make it home, nor to finish their last remaining enemy. They collapsed amongst the corpses of their kin, and added the final pieces of fuel of what madness was to come.

With such a slaughter, with such desperate, violent deeds, such suffering and sorrow, a process took hold of those many souls. Denied passage beyond this world, instead they began to congeal as one; trapped by a current, a force which drew them together and swiftly started to erode their individuality, to sap their senses and warp their very being. The hope each had felt was erased, leaving only a mass of pain, fear, thirst and anger. 

And death only brought suffering - for the hundreds of souls could not find peace. From the demise of the tribesmen, something came anew; a foul curse that swept the oasis, beginning to warp it into what would be known as the Thirsting Oasis. 

OOC Information

The Thirsting Oasis is written to be a curious corner of Aevos, filled with many mysteries. Something mysterious lingers within the Oasis - and its influence can be noticed by the descendants. This area has events planned out, and once they have been completed, this post will be updated to reveal more information. Both ET and Players are free and encouraged to do events utilizing spirits, phantoms, poltergeists, and spectral creatures or persons who may have been drawn to the oasis in the past. 

Titan's Eye, The Venerable Gemstone

Material Name and Description (Raw form)

     Though long undisturbed, Almaris hosts similar stones to the rest of the continents plagued by descendants. Given it’s long untouched nature, it is theorized that familiar crystals known as Adfectio Stones have taken on a unique shape in some areas upon the continent. Unlike normal Adfectio, these deposits take on a trigonal, clear, transparent colourless form. Much more brittle and in much smaller quantities than standard Adfectio, these crystals in their regular form - are rather mundane, only taking on minimal versions of the coloured effects of standard Adfectio. A strong emotion, would yield minimal - if any - change in colour. Rather robust, these gemstones would be notable for their ability to be resistant to scratching and bruising, but like any other, susceptible to being smashed to pieces by a moderately hard strike of a hammer or cut apart with gemcutters tools.

Applications (Raw form)

As a base form, this version of Adfectio is mundane - and yields nothing out of the ordinary. At beast, a dim colour when emotions are shown, in similar to regular Adfectio. 

Red Lines (Raw Form)

-Titan's Eye must be mined in roleplay.

-Titan's Eye is not standard Adfectio, and is not transformable from regular Adfectio

-Titan's Eye has no abnormal or nonmundane effect. If combined with something else in any way shape or form, it aswell will yield no effect.

Harvesting Method

Requiring a gentle and steady hand, one would pry these crystals gently from their stone prison. Any touch or scrape against the crystal itself would yield a horrific scratching sound, which may interrupt one’s focus - but likely required, for prying the crystal from rock. 

Harvesting Red Lines

-Unlike standard Adfectio, anything but a gentle touch of a hammer and chisel would shatter these crystals completely. Even then, if cringing of the sounds of harvesting, one may slip into breaking the crystals.

Material Name and Description (Refined form)

Titan's Eye, when “refined”, takes on a significantly more robust and colourful form. When fueled with mana directly from a voidal magi, it would permanently take on the form of that mage’s Aura colour. As a lightly more potent managem, enchantments would be a bit more aesthetically pleasing- taking on the aura colour of the gem, with no added effect. However, the aura colour of this gem, much more vibrant and permanent than that of Adfectio, would give off an emotion to the user. When on contact with one’s person by general proximity (ex. Upon their breastplate or on a ring), they would become much more vulnerable to that Aura’s associated emotion - feeling such quite quickly, and literally.

Red - Passionate, Angry, Loving, Prideful

Blue - Cold, Orderly, Tranquil, Sad

Yellow - Greedy, Happy, Cheerful

Orange - Enthusiastic, Content, Productive

Green - Envy, Jealous

Purple - Curious, Controlling, Mysterious

White - Innocent, Balanced, Pure

Black - Corrupt, Evil, Malicious, Fearful

Pink - Vain, Deceitful

Applications (Refined form)

Enchantment

As with any Enchantment, a Titan's Eye Gemstone would be able to be used in place of a standard managem - it’s only addition, is that the weapon the gem was enchanted within, would produce the colour of aura of the mage- not changing effects of the spell trapped within, merely how it was presented.

Ex. Instead of a blue or aqua coloured wall for a water-wall enchantment, it may be the colour of the enchanter/refiner’s aura (A transparent-green water wall, a purple one, etc)

Aura Affliction

Auras, in many cultures, are a reflection of ones state of being mentally and physically. Proven, these Auras reflect a person’s emotion most often. Seeming to meld with it’s dormant-adfectio state, imbueing an Aura unto an Titan's Eye Gemstone would give someone a minor to major feeling of that emotion, alongside emotional susceptibility to aforementioned feeling.

Ex. Making a necklace of a blue aura causes one to feel a bit more down, making a necklace of red may make them feel a bit more prideful and perhaps quick-to-anger.

Red Lines (Refined Form)

-Acting as “Enchantment”, Titan's Eye yields NO BENEFICIAL OR COMBATIVE EFFECTS. Purely aesthetic.

-Acting as an Aura-Afflicting stone, the user is by no means compelled to keep on the item and may remove or put on so freely.

-Titan's Eye may act as either and is not limited to one effect (It can both do Enchantment and Aura Affliction.).

-Titan's Eye may be voidally felt to understand it is much more potent than a standard managem.

-A Titan's Eye Gemstone is not locked or limited to the effects listed above- generally colours associated with an emotion, or emotions similar to the ones listed above, may be used and are not handled at ST-Signing discretion. ST do not sign Titans Eye any further.

-Titan's Eye does not react with multi-coloured Auras, picking only the most prominent of the colours presented. This is subjective to the character, and as with changing aura colour, may not change without a lifechanging event which would cause so.

-Titan's Eye may not be used to metagame if someone is a Voidal Mage or to tell what emotions they are feeling as the colour presented is static and unchanging. 

-Acting as an Aura-Afflicting stone, the user is by no means overwhelmed with such emotion unless they wish to be. They are simply far more easily tugged into that direction of emotion, and are far more susceptible to feeling that direction.

Refining Technique

No matter which line down (Aura Afflicting, or Enchantment) taken, a voidal magi is required. They must have the aura colour shared with their desired outcome.

The magi must gently grasp the raw-form of the stone.

The magi would follow by connecting to the void.

Gently, they would prepare to cast - mana emanating from their form, concentrating upon the Titan's Eye which acted as an anchor. 

Refining Red Lines

-Titan's Eye must share the aura colour of the one who funneled mana unto it. This requires a voidal mage. 

-To funnel mana, one requires a valid and active MA in voidal magic. It may not be done by anyone.

-Titan's Eye requires understanding to use and manipulate. It may not be "guessed" that the refining technique does yield results. 

-Following standard aura rules, one requires a drastic, lifechanging event to swap their aura. This does not suddenly apply to change a stone, then go back.

-Titan's Eye will not change colour in accordance to it's users aura, a permanent mark upon it's creator left behind indicating a permanent shift in colour.

-Titan's Eye will never change it’s colour. If broken or cracked, it will lose it’s stored colour and will become clear and dormant- unusable.

-A Titan's Eye Gemstone may not be used to restore mana.

Purpose (OOC)

cool material unique to Almaris which plays well in hand with existing materials and the current ongoing Voidal Project.

Citation

Highelf Aura Theory (ooc)

https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/189640-✓-world-lore-adfectio-stones/

https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/194289-aura-colour-theory/

Material Name and Description 

A Lumber Juice Cactus is a squat, or ‘barrel’ cactus which grows in sandy, coastal locations. The cacti is standardly orbular in shape, and can grow up to 2 and a half feet tall, with small short needles extending from 15-19 ribs along its pine green body. The cactus can live for roughly 12 years, and blooms bright magenta flowers in the early spring every year. If properly fertilized, the cactus shall produce a small bundle of 2-3 red ‘fruits’. These fruits are small, red and thorny and roughly the size of a plumb, akin to a rounder  prickly pear. They bear a vaguely sweet taste, and contain roughly 20 almond shaped seeds. These seeds can be planted in suitably sandy soil in a hot, coastal environment, and will sprout into new lumber juice cactus plants.

The cactus bears a hard outside which standardly measures one inch thick, however, the interior of the cactus is comprised entirely of a thick fluorescent green substance. This substance is a thick, akin to cake icing, and is a bright green in color. The ‘juice’ of the cactus is overpoweringly bitter tasting, yet bears an aloe vera like scent. An average adult plant contains roughly 2 gallons of this juice.

However, should the juice of the cactus be left out to dry for over a day, the juice shall eventually harden, at first becoming a vaguely damp, spongy material, before eventually hardening to a porous, yellow-green wood like substance, akin to black palm wood. The hardened juice, or ‘Kaktowood’ is effectively a porous hard wood, able to be utilized for nearly any purpose a standard piece of wood would be able to be used. However, given its initial liquid state, the juice of the cactus may be placed into molds or containers, and harden, maintaining the shape it had in its liquid form. For kaktowood to harden, the juice must be left either in the sun, or in a warm, dry place, in which case it will harden over the course of two days, becoming spongy after the first 24 hours, and fully hardening after the next 24. Should the wood not be fully dried, it is liable to become liquidy once more should it be wetted or rain or being submerged in the water, or simply brought to a notably humid environment. However, fully dried kaktowood is immune to such issues. 

Red Lines

-Kaktowood is as strong as black palm wood, and acts as a hardwood with a inconsistent grain.

-Kaktowood is created through drying out juice of a Lumber Juice Cactus over the course of 2 narrative days.

-The juice of a Lumber Juice Cactus requires a cool dry environment, and will not solidify around a living creature. The juice of the cactus is disgusting to descendants to consume, though not poisonous, simply revolting.

Applications 

Kaktowood is notably porous, and for all intents and purposes acts as a green wood, and while resilient enough to be used for construction, hafts, or any other purpose wood might be used for, and is equally liable to rot, and receptive to anti-rot treatments as regular wood is, however, due to its porous nature, it is not able to flex well, and is thus not suitable for use in bows or other tension based apparati.

Harvesting Method

Lumber Juice may be either siphoned from inside the cactus via a tab or simply boring a hole through the cactus and draining it, or breaking or cutting off the top of the cactus, and simply scooping the thick juice out. If one wishes to save some for later, one must simply store the juice in a sealed container, of which it shall be kept in juice form indefinitely.

Category: Material (Noded, Rare (T3)

Material Name and Description

A Quietus crystal is a non naturally formed hollow biconical red crystal, which contains in its center a glowing red ‘core’ suspended in a murky red fluid.Created by some past intelligent denizens of Almaris, Quietus crystals can be found buried or implanted into the earth in piles, clusters, and even hidden in caches in ruins, and bear many bizarre properties. First and foremost, if a quietus crystal is punctured or broken open, its ‘core’ shall spring out and dissipate into nothingness, while the rest of the crystal evaporates into a foul acidic smelling red mist. However, whilst whole, the core of the crystal shall emit a soft red light, and if moved, leave a trail of red light, streaking through the air and than dissipating after a few second’s time. Likewise, it bears a bizarre sensitivity to blood, and will magically react if ever exposed to such.
 

Quietus crystals are standardly no smaller than 8 centimeters long, yet will not be found any larger than 15 centimeters long, and bear a maroonish-red color. The crystals are standardly very smooth, with no angled edges or corners, save through its center, where a vague ‘seam’ is marked around its middle, joining 2 curved conical halves. The crystals are always hollow, with 3-5 millimeter thick walls, and contain a spherical core in its center measuring 2-3 centimeters in diameter, suspended in a red murky fluid. The core glows a dim pinkish red, and sheds light equal to that of a ingame redstone torch.

When one of these crystals is moved, the red light the core sheds will ‘hang’ in the air, so to speak, before dissipating. This makes so if one were to wave it in the air, or simply move it around, it would leave a trail of light wherever its been, even within bags or containers, these streaks of light will faze through their vessels and trail though the the air. Unlike the stone itself, these ‘trails’ do not emit any light on their surroundings, and after 5 seconds, disappear into nothingness.

The most hindering aspect of working with one of these crystals is its bizarre dependance on its core to maintain form. The core of the crystal is relatively unmoving inside the crystal, however, should the crystal be punctured, shattered, melted, or in any way shaped as to have the internal liquid of the crystal unsealed- the core shall fly out immediately, it itself being incorporeal and unable to cause any harm, and dissipate into the air in but a second, and the rest of the crystal, fluid included, shall immediately evaporate into a puff of acidic smelling red mist. This mist is harmless, and itself will fade away after roughly 30 seconds. 

Quietus crystals are not fragile, and can be dropped or thrown about with little effect, however, a firm strike with a hammer at its center will shatter, and destroy it. The crystals are eerily very smooth, with attempts to sand, or file them being entirely ineffective, being completely immune to shearing force, and for all intents and purposes, are unable to be cut apart.

Quietus crystals are somewhat heat resistant, up to 1300 degrees celsius, in which case it will soften, and is able to be molded, or pressed into shape akin to glass, so long as its internal volume is kept consistent and the crystal is not punctured, in which case it will be entirely destroyed if its hollow section is unsealed. At at 1,600 degrees celsius, the crystal shall melt, releasing its core, and promptly be destroyed. In this same way, if someone were to attempt to meld two crystals together, they will need to still keep the internal fluid of each crystal sealed to itself, for it matters not if the only place a core can escape to is another crystal’s fluid, if a core leaves its crystal- the core and the crystal shall be destroyed. Likewise, if the crystal was made malleable, and a piece of the crystal is separated from the portion with the core yet somehow keep the core sealed- the separated piece shall dissipate into a red mist, just as if the core had escaped.

Finally, if a quietus crystal comes into contact with a drop or more of descendant blood, the crystal will evaporate the blood immediately, and its core will begin glowing brighter (akin to an ingame normal torch) and begin very quietly hissing for the next narrative hour. The hissing is inconsistent, and almost vocal in tone, as if attempting to whisper something, yet with the only sounds of it pronouncing syllables with ‘Ss’ able to escape from its core. These hissings are untranslatable, and the core itself will not respond to anything said or done to the crystal in this state (aside from the crystal being unsealed, in which case it will still be destroyed.)

Applications 

Quietus crystals are notably receptive to most enchantments, and may be used as a focus crystal, however, any summoning voidal spell either powered through one of these crystals, or cast through them as a focus, will be a reddish hue. The specific hue could range from a dark maroon, to a light pinkish red, to a deep crimson, however, it applies to almost any spell. Cast illusions will be ruddy in hue, fireballs or bolts of ice will appear as if put through a red filter, and conjured creatures or beasts will appear eternally bathed in red light, as if a red spotlight was constantly pointed at them from above. This summoning effect is inconsistent with other magics, for some it way work, yet for others it wont. Persay, one may be able to cast a Yeu-wispal-servant red through the crystal, yet persay, a cleric may not be able to cast through such.

(Let lore-holders choose if they want quietus crystals to have the color changey ability)

Aside from magic, Quietus crystals are useful for dim lightning, decoration, or even blood powered lamps, should one wish for such.

Red Lines 

-If a quietus crystal is broken open, or its internal liquid unsealed, the crystal shall be entirely destroyed.

-The glowing and hissing effect from blood can be proc'd via the blood of any playable creature, both descendants, tainted descendants (siliti, Frost witches, etc), or animal people (such as Kha, Musin). If it is playable, and it bleeds, the blood will work on the crystal. Animal blood, or from non-playable creatures does not.

-Filing or ‘cutting’ the gem as a means to shape it is entirely ineffective, the gem requiring to be heated to being malleable, and carefully pressed or molded into shape.

-Despite being immune to being cut apart, they can still be shattered with significant compression force, such as the strike of a hammer or blunt weapon.

-The items of Quietus crystals themselves, alongside items made with the crystals do not require ST signatures.

-Any spell cast with a quietus crystal will be notably reddish. This does not mean the spells are any more powerful or dangerous, simply colored red.

Harvesting Method

Due to the variance of where Quietus crystals may be found, the environmental factors for harvesting them is nebulous. However, the one consistent issue with harvesting these crystals is their susceptibility to be destroyed by compression force. Were someone to errantly strike the crystal with a pickaxe or chisel, the crystal would shatter, its core would fling out, and the crystal would be destroyed. Likewise, one bears the risk of accidentally causing a cave-in should they break more than one crystal, given it may start a domino effect of crystals breaking, disappearing, and than leaving the walls they’re embedded into without support, which will cause them to fall over- potentially shattering more crystals- et-cetera, et-cetera. 

As such, the wisest move is to attempt to cut around the crystal, and remove the entire chunk of stone it is embedded into, or if the crystal has a large visible surface area- simply pry it out from the stone itself.

Harvesting Red Lines

-Quietus crystals are liable to be shattered if struck directly, which may cause other problems.

-Quietus crystals are usually intentionally embedded into caves, stone walls, or buried.