Explore the lands of Atyrza

Named after the ancient Lyberai hero Alabruszus, the monarchy of this ancient nation claims direct heritage to the victor in The War of the Five Warlords; a semi-mythical conflict that erupted soon after the permanent establishment of Priaporai - the first settlement on the continent. Many of the nobility in turn claim descendants from the allies, companions and family of Alabruszus as a path to acclaim and power; though the truth of such claims leaves them mired in political disputes with other claimants.

The Kings of Alabruszai have long maintained a near-permanent state of war readiness, citing the grand diminishment of their nations influence following Alabruszus’ legendary victory: referred to as ‘the line of the 14 unseen lords’ – these monarchs are so minor and of little note they are unremembered. It is upon these unnamed kings blame for the steady decline of their state was placed. That ended with the sudden resurgence under Alabruszus II: a king who claimed to be the ancient hero reincarnated and swept the nation with reform and conquest to reach its current size.

In this militarised culture, every first-hatched child of every family is expected by tradition to commit to some form of military service for the vast majority of their lives. Second-hatched children are those who inherit land, titles and money; they are expected to manage any wealth and land their older sibling may acquire in their military career - though in truth this aspect largely only applies to nobility. Any other children are free to do as they wish - though cultural pressure to support their family or join the military is considerable - and it is from these third, fourth and fifth hatched children that many of the nation's scholars, historians and artists originate.

Faith in the Kingdom of Alabruszai is treated differently from the rest of the continent. While this has been the cause of great friction and difficulty in the past, even the strong influence of the Cardinals of Deora has not changed their ways. They hold to the same silent pantheon that much of the continent ascribes to, but in Alabruszai there are no grand temples, nor festivals and congregations for the appeasement of the gods. Here faith is a private affair: one may have private shrines in the home, and may sponsor wayshrines for travellers to show one's faith more outwardly, but there are no gatherings for great ceremonies or to partake in mass. Indeed, the treatment of the dead is equally different: the standard burial practice is to burn the fallen - something only done when necessary on the rest of the continent. This is also done privately, with only the greatest heroes of the state having public pyres.

Founded upon a series of islands surrounding The Black Tower of Deora and connected by vast bridges that constitute districts in their own right, the city of Deora is not only the most populous city - and covers the largest footprint - but it is also the centre of all faith on the continent. Ruled directly by The Council of Cardinals; a vast deliberative body formed from the highest representatives of each god from the Silent Pantheon of the Lyberai.

While technically made up from at least 20 islands, the majority of the population reside upon the 6 largest islands that surround The Black Tower. Each of these is dedicated to one of the deities of the Silent Pantheon, all connected to the central isle by The Pilgrim’s Way, the massive bridges that, along with the tower, long pre-date the city itself.
A holy city in name and in practice, much of the city's aspects are influenced and controlled by the faith. The city guard are Paladins of Casus, the god of law, and Knights of Agrippa, the god of war. At the centre of the city's administration and culture is the Council of Cardinals, which pulls its members from each of the deity’s clergy and dictates law and administration within the city, but also establishes the holy days, festivals and religious decrees continent wide.

As the centre of faith on the continent, it is a place of pilgrimage for the faithful noble and peasant alike. Indeed, ships burgeoning with would-be pilgrims arrive every day, and the nomad-priests of the silent pantheon in turn take those ships on the return to the mainland to begin their long journey to spread the word of the faith and tend to the spiritual needs of the people.

Surrounded on all sides bar one with nations that hunger for its territory, it is surprising how infrequently the nation of Schwertanz finds itself at war. The rolling lowland plains and arboreal forests of the region are rich in minerals and fertile farmland, due in no small part to the yearly rains that sweep through Wesgulth Pass on the nation's western border. Its people have much to be proud of; the lands bring great wealth with every fresh harvest, and their cities have grown strong under generations of diligent care.

It is the reputation of the nation's nobility that has kept it safe for so long. Indeed, the very concept of knighthood that has now spread so far across the continent was born in Schwertanz. It is the mould of the warrior-nobles of this nation that have reinvented the idea of the martial nation for the Lyberai. From the youngest age, noble children are taught how to wield the sword and lance, and of the concepts of chivalry and their place as the shield of the diligent peasantry. Tournaments of every martial skill can be traced across the nation all year round: always the knights of this land are tempering, reforging and re-learning their ways of war, seeking never to be left behind.

The martial nature of these knightly people has provided curious new opportunities in recent generations. Retired knights of the House of Mourvain first forged the now spreading concept of military academies: centres of education and training for nobility the continent over, should they be able to afford the considerable fees of attendance. While the Mourvain academy of war in Ruhsant is still the most prestigious of these schools, the concept spread quickly, formalizing the education of knights both within Schwertanz and beyond.

To be a Lord in Gottveln is a curious thing. At once, one holds great power; rulership of land, dictation over law and balancing matters of diplomacy. However, simultaneously, one is expected to eschew all things material and pursue a spiritual existence. This is the duality of a nation obsessed with faith, yet has no formal priestly class; instead relying on the visitations of the nomad-priests of Deora to pass down declarations from the Council of Cardinals. Cities house great cathedrals raised high in veneration of the gods, and yet services are only held when a nomad-priest of sufficient standing is visiting the land.

The nobility and royal family live austere lives, funnelling their wealth into the infrastructure of the nation, to charitable causes, and the construction of ever-greater monuments to the gods' glory. Naturally, Gottveln is a nation held in high regard by the Cardinals of Deora, and the proclamations of the Council of Cardinals have more than once greatly favoured the nation as reward for their faith.
Thanks in no small part to the charity of the nobility, the mundane folk of Gottveln live in comfort unparalleled for equivalents of their station in other nations. With constant investments from their lords into roads, walls and other infrastructure projects, the people have grown wealthy indeed in their surprising freedom to pursue mercantile endeavours with little oversight. With both the Snaiblath Pass and Sunswer Pass connecting the nation to the exterior kingdoms, its influence over trade is considerable, though much of that control is in small, regional mercantile interests.

Ruling from Sakanstad, a city renowned for its largest building being the great cathedral at the city's heart, the monarchy of Gottveln only rises to prominence during times of war - for while they are a pious people, they should not be mistaken for being too embroiled in spiritual affairs for military matters. Indeed, the cities of Brunsal and Hatien have both been heavily fortified following the rebellion and war that resulted in the establishment of Vidersagn, despite Hatien sitting on the border with Vollesrich.

Set in the north-western crescent of the region, placed between the martial nations of Schwertanz and Alabruszai, the noble-republic of Freirich has often been overlooked as the least consequential of the interior kingdoms. However, it is testament to the strength of this nation and its people that it has persevered and endured for so long despite the warlike nature of so many of its neighbours.

Ruled by a council of nobility, the republic elects an Exarch every 10 years to serve as head of state and government. Voting is done in person in the Palace of Lordship, sat astride the river that divides the twinned capital cities of Nebultal & Seotal, with only those holding noble titles eligible to vote. Voting is then in turn weighted up the power of one’s noble title – the vote of a count being greater than that of a baron and so forth. Voting and its records are entirely public; indeed, how each lord has voted is announced publicly, alongside the result of the election, in the land they rule as well as a full proclamation of all votes in the twinned capitals.

While those of higher stations are legally bound in such a manner that they cannot punish those below them for voting differently, the reverse is not true. Indeed, there are recorded instances of local rebellions against barons who voted contrary to their populations wishes, though more common are instances of belligerence and disobedience from barons upset with their count’s electoral choices.
While its neighbours consider this form of government contributing to the weakness of their nation, they have proven themselves more than capable of seeing off external aggression despite their internal difficulties. Indeed, when Alabruszai led an amphibious force and laid siege to the port-city of Kollant, within three years an army had been mustered that ejected their forces and re-took the city for Freirich. Their history is littered with similar events: it has long-since been proven that in the art of the counter-attack is where the strength of these people lies.

It is uncertain what produced the current mania among the monarch of Vollesrich, rumours abound of causes such as the discovery of gold beneath the capital of Holzlant, of a great haul of riches garnered by an expedition into some secret fane. Regardless of its current cause, however, the results have shaped the nation for generations.

The royal family have taken a deep, passionate interest in the economy of their nation, in the wealth of their people, and in centralizing that wealth within royal stewardship. They invest in businesses, control entire sectors of the economy through large financial stakes, and have purchased seats at the head of many a merchant guild to ensure the wealth flows in their direction. This, in turn, has created an expansion mindset among the ruling family; always seeking new wealth, new interests, new ventures to expand their vaults ever further.

This wealth is not merely hoarded however; indeed, a vast cycle of depletion and renewal occurs within the royal vaults that has been likened to the tide: the wealth flows out from the royal family to fuel the nation, and in response the tide floods back, prompting a greater outpouring of wealth in an ever-escalating cycle.
The smallest nation of all the interior kingdoms, they have long benefited from easy trade with the exterior kingdoms via Halfelth, through their control of Surmurwenth Pass. being hemmed in by Gottveln to the south, Vidersagn to the west, and Alabruszai to the north, it is quite the marvel their nation endures. Only the capital is truly worth the name city, with Alenen and Swansal being more akin to large, fortified towns than true cities.

Once the County of Skatoberg, part of the nation of Gottveln, the newly-forged Kingdom of Vidersagn has already created a reputation for itself as a warmongering and expansionist people. Disaffected by the austere lifestyle imposed upon them by the ruling clergy-kings of Gottveln, the succession of Vidersagn had been long in the planning before it ultimately occurred. An entire generation of noble sons and daughters travelled to Schwertanz for training and education; ostensibly due to a strong upswell of faith in Agrippa. A vast class of men-at-arms were trained and equipped, with such vast quantities of steel being earmarked as ‘charitable donations’ from the exterior kingdom of Sahlskeln.

When independence was finally declared, the major cities of the region were secured almost immediately, the borders with Gottveln fortified and garrisoned within weeks, and a lightning-campaign of conquest launched against its northern neighbours in Alabruszai within the season. With the swift capture of territory, the twin duchies of Himilbod & Manosant were created, and the declaration of a new kingdom under the Vidersagn family line was cemented in the region.

In the generations since these initial conquests, much of the royal family's efforts have been focussed on the entrenchment of their rule, and the fortification of their borders. Indeed, the keeps and fortresses that line the edges of the kingdom are some of the most modern on the continent, and the Waldsant school of engineering is largely responsible for these advancements in both defensive and offensive siege warfare.

Fears have steadily been growing among the nations’ neighbours as to what these preparations may portend to. Each fears the possibility of further invasion, but little sign has been seen of outward interests being anything but economic in fashion. Though, should any lesson be taken from the sudden meteoric rise of Vidersagn, it is that they are more than content to be patient, and to expend considerable effort to conceal their plans from outside eyes.

Once the Kingdom of Benfranc, its history is inexorably tied to the Lands of the Dragon-Jarls on the south-eastern borders. When the grand crusade was called to eject the invaders from their newly conquered southern holding, it was the Kingdom of Benfrac that was to host these holy warriors, and the Kingdom’s southern Duchy - the Duchy of Gelfelth, and its cities of Awikgard and Thrunburc - that was to be the crusade’s staging ground.

When the clans of the Dragon-Jarls enacted their great ritual to stave off this pending invasion, it was Gelfelth that bore the greatest of this burden. In an instant, it was transformed from a land of rich mines and hardy, honest folk into a burning wasteland of searing rock. Indeed, the only surviving settlement was the small town of Saisgard, which rapidly evolved into a city as the survivors of the catastrophe - crusader and miner alike - escaped northwards.

Much of the kingdom's wealth and royalty was lost in the fires of the ashlands, leaving the boy-king Hansheldt on the throne. Centuries of strife and difficulty followed his feeble reign, and the internal political strife that followed. While the discovery of volcanic ash’s properties as fertilizer has buoyed the economy of Saisgard and staved off many a famine in the kingdom, the old capital of Hundal has fallen into decay.

Despite the kingdom's considerable troubles, the foresight - or perhaps the paranoia - of the nation’s founders has served them well. The fortified towns of Wendirbast and Bolgard, in the strategic positions at the mouth of a river and astride the major trade-road into the kingdom from the north respectively, have stood tall in the defence of the ailing kingdom. Each has been besieged countless times, and while Wendirbast has fallen once in its history, it was part of an astute larger strategy that saw the town reclaimed in short order.

Initially the Merchant Republic of Skaunburc; the prime position of the city that is its namesake at the western mouth of Wesgulth Pass proved an incomparable source of wealth for the merchant-class of the city. Indeed, the city was initially a westward expansion from the knightly Kingdom of Schwertanz; yet the merchants grew so fabulously wealthy that within a few short generations the council that controlled the cities guilds had amassed enough independent wealth to purchase the freedom of the city from its feudal lords.

This birth of the merchant republic set the tone of their actions for the next few centuries; great hoards of wealth was gained from their consistent, peaceful management of trade through Wesgulth Pass, taking their fair tariff from either side and protecting the flow of goods. This wealth was then put to use funding communities to grow into new towns and cities; with the crown jewel of this strategy being the southern city of Berbuc, with its well-renowned and respect brewing industry.

In recent decades a new tactic has emerged; the outright purchase of various feudal titles and the lands therein. Indeed, when civil war wracked the Kingdom of Glenthaim that left its royal family dead, its nobility scattered, and capital city of Halbergard in ruins, the merchants of Skaunburc, who had been rumoured to be backing the rebels financially during the civil war, purchased the lordly titles to the remaining lands in one grand gesture.

This bestowed upon the merchant republic the mighty cities of Gamarbast with its cavernous mines, and Salodal that finally gave the republic access to maritime trade. Such an influx of new subjects, who indeed outnumbered those who already lived in the Merchant Republic almost twofold, prompted the nations re-christening as the free cities of New Glenthaim, with the merchant republics existing territories added to the existing feudal rights of the Kingdom of Glenthaim, rather than the other way around.

This expansionism has not gone unnoticed however: the Stragegios of Alabruszai have long watched the merchant republic with suspicion, and plans have been laid for the potential invasion of Marisban to prepare for war with the merchant-nation. Similarly, the Kingdom of Schwertanz have with jealousy long watched the growing wealth of the city that was once theirs, and rumours are abound as to what the knight-nobles believe should be done about the erstwhile merchants.

Set betwixt the burgeoning realm of the Free cities of New Glenthaim, and the militaristic monarch-state of Alabruszai, the small kingdom of Marisban is set to be in dire straits should it be unable to change its fortunes. Its rocky lands have never been the most fertile, and while their talent for stoneworking is considerable, the reserves of ore within their borders were long since expended in early expansion - indeed, Marisban was the site of the first iron mine on the continent, and spearheaded the iron age revolution among the Lyberai. But such metal has long since dwindled, and early gains were lost by successive generations, leaving the kingdom now a shadow of what it once was.

However, there is hope for the small realm. Recently returned to the capital of Alisbast from a military academy in the Kingdom of Schwertanz, the throne has been taken by the young king Vratislav III. Having received the highest standard of military education the coffers of the nation could afford, Vratislav returned to his people with great fanfare as the greatest strategist their people have ever known. Throughout his youth he studied at the sides of great knights and followed these warriors in battle, and it appears to all that he has learned a great deal - though what he will do with this knowledge remains to be seen.

Crown among the kingdom's more minor holdings is the city of Fadal in the north, which sits astride the hinterlands that divide Marisban from Alabruszai. Fadal – and the neighbouring Fort Septvigila - has changed hands many times, as the two nations have fought back and forth in border skirmishes for centuries, but each time has been at considerable cost for the aggressors thanks to the harsh nature of the exposed terrain, and the lack of any viable alternatives to circumvent the city.

Once a constituent member of the Three-Kingdom Alliance, the south-eastern kingdom of Algdans is in turmoil following the collapse of the aforementioned alliance. Without the steady flow of easy trade between it and its northern compatriots, they now have turned with reluctance to the Lands of the Dragon-Jarls to supplement their struggling economy, as well as seasonal trade caravans sent through Snaiblath Pass every spring into the lands of Gottveln.

From their capital of Kulnburc, they have fought hard on the monetary battlefield to keep their nation afloat: the austerity measures implemented by the royal family have managed to keep the nation solvent, but only for now. Potential fortune lays on their horizon, however, as a wealth of untraced additional funds has been finding themselves in the coffers of Algdan nobility following the fall of The Duchy of Berchemia, and the border city of Burahal has become a veritable fortress with a garrison to rival many of the interior kingdom’s cities. Whether this newfound military might will remain aimed at the Dragon-Jarls on their southern border remains to be seen, as relations with their northern neighbours in Sahlskeln have been on uncertain ground since the collapse of the alliance.

The core of their troubles stems from the fact their industry is primarily maritime in nature. The port cities of Runsburc and Deuzgard are the heart of this industry, with vast dockyards between them and many skilled shipwrights. The issue lies in the considerable dangers that lie in the waters off the coast; while trade ships that manage to return home safely often bring with them considerable bounty, the vast majority fall prey either to the raiding of the Dragon-Jarls, or the Naga slave fleets that prowl the waters. Some even say darker things lurk in the deep waters, and that the lands or Algdans are cursed to be the roosts of some horrid, abyssal terrors; making their fleets their first prey whenever they rise from the deeps.

Once the diplomatic lynchpin of the Three-Kingdom Alliance, the kingdom of Halfelth was ever well regarded for its kind mannered rulers and shrewd diplomatic policy. What it lacked in military might it had always made up for with its ability to mediate between parties and cool tensions. This, combined with the Surmurwenth Pass lying at the northern edge of their territory, has allowed them to maintain healthy relations with their interior counterparts, and funnel healthy trade from the interior of the continent to itself and its allies.

All of this changed, however, when Cyrene Lougeld returned unexpectedly to her homeland. A sorceress-child of the ruling nobility of the nation's central Duchy. She had been sent away with a witch-hunter escort to the city of Deora, with the expectation she would be taken in by the priesthood and chained, as many with magical talents are. Instead, she returned to her home a scant few years later, with unnatural necromantic powers at her disposal.

While initially welcomed home in Trewburc by her family, relations quickly soured, and the necromantic powers of the witch-queen - as she would later be known - only continued to grow. Sour relations ultimately boiled over into violence, and ultimately into a full-blown war that saw Cyrene topple the monarchy of her homeland in a siege of the capital of Deugard, and install herself as its monarch. Attempts to topple the necromancer-queen were foiled when numerous assassination attempts by foes within and without revealed her true nature: she had ascended to Lichdom, and even death had become naught but a temporary inconvenience.

With the fall of the bloodline that had kept the Three-Kingdom Alliance together, and Halfelth ejected because of its blasphemous new ruler, the other two partners quickly fell out. For now, the only hope for a return to normalcy in the nation of Halfelth are the growing rumours of a grand crusade being sent to crush the eternal Witch-Queen; rumours coupled with whispers of a lost heir to the nation being hidden somewhere in the interior kingdoms.

Ever the strangest partner in the Three-Kingdom Alliance, the vast steel industry of Sahlskeln in its capital of Harjal has made for a people as hard and uncompromising as the metal they forge. Indeed, their steel is so valued in the interior kingdoms, that considerable funds are expended to keep Sunswer Pass open for a scant few weeks longer than the other narrow passes each year.

Beyond their steel-gotten wealth however, the nation has oft struggled to hold its own among its neighbours. With hot tempered monarchs and a well-earned reputation for stubbornness, it was only the tempering assistance of The Kingdom of Halfelth that allowed them to maintain many of their diplomatic ties with other nations. In this, the monarchies of Sahlskeln and Halfelth had become incredibly close; indeed, the groundwork had been laid for a marriage to tie the two kingdoms together more permanently, with a suitable bride and groom already chosen when the Kingdom of Halfelth fell.

Unsurprisingly, Sahlskeln is also the nation that has taken the fall of Halfelth the worst; worse than even Halfelth itself. With the collapse of the alliance, and the loss of their monarch in a desperate attempt to relieve the siege of Deugard and save the Halfelth monarchy, Sahlskeln has become a nation in mourning for over a generation. Mourning for a hero-king lost in battle, and for an alliance now left in tatters with no hope of re-forging anywhere in the near future.

Once the lands of the iron age Kingdoms of Sindrik & Fadarik, and more recently the Duchy of Berchemia, these rough hinterlands on the far southern crescent of the continent were conquered by an invasion from across the sea by the clans of the Dragon-Jarls: a tall, powerfully built folk from across the southern oceans that appeared undaunted by the grave chill of winter, and whose warriors could set homes ablaze with a bellowing roar.

With these lands in their grasp, these lords from across the sea divided their new conquest between their various clans, taking their remaining population as their subjects to rule over. Dragon-blood in one's heritage was laid down as the dividing line between nobility and peasantry; initially a clear distinction, but as their peoples have intermixed both in blood and culture, the distinction has become increasingly muddied. Indeed, shortly before the conquest of the Duchy of Berchemia, the Einsfijara - the grand moot-council of the clans - declared all within their domain to be dragon-jarls, for their blood of the dragon had spread to almost all corners of their lands. In abolishing those ancient laws, family, clan and wealth became what mattered; though in practical terms this had already been the case for some time.

Though the full truth of their origins died with the first generation of the Dragon-Jarls; whom passed only scraps of their history and homeland to their children or their new subjects, their culture was slowly cemented into the people of the region. Strength was valued above all - however, this is not seen merely as physical prowess: strength of spirit, strength of integrity, and strength of principle are all valued in the same manner as brute strength and a hardy constitution. Each individual is expected to be a mountain - and as a clan they form a wall so great as to be impenetrable.

In practice, this leads to a land where one is beholden only to their lord and their own honour. Matters of crime and punishment are dealt with by the ruling Jarl of each clan in their own territory, and a handful of Thanes who can act as their Jarl’s representative in smaller, local matters. Each Jarl is expected to be warrior, judge, general and diplomat at once; a demanding role that many fall short in some aspects of, but one that brings near total control over the region in which they rule.

In matters of magic, spirituality and fate the land of the Dragon-Jarls greatly differs from its neighbouring nations as well; belief in the silent pantheon has waned over the centuries. While some small shrines or churches can be found, few still adhere to the gods that do not answer their prayers so far from the influence of the Cardinals. Instead, the shamanistic spiritualism carried by the Dragon-Jarls has taken hold; one invokes the power of spirits, both of animals and the land, with a gallery of great dragons being considered the strongest of these ethereal beings. With charms, totems and fetishes being used to ward off undesired spirits, and rituals to properly welcome desired spirits from the otherworld, one can tip the scales of fate in their favour.

The great inland sea at the heart of Atyrza, its placid and calm waters have been an almost incomprehensible boon to the Lyberai.

A source of food, a connective network tying the interior kingdoms together, and the beating heart of the faith in Deora. With the completion of the Lyskeaneus canal in Alabruszai, it is even a connection into the Cyran Ocean and out into the wider world. Without all of these things, it is not certain that the Lyberai would have spread as far and wide as they have in the curse-riddled lands of Atyrza.

It has become a widespread symbol of peace and calm, and its nature is oft invoked by sailors travelling into treacherous waters. Indeed, where much of the world’s oceans are filled with dangerous beasts that seem to actively target crewed vessels, the Aurelian Sea entirely lacks such things; making it by far the safest waters in the world.

It was across this great ocean that the people whom would become the Lyberai first travelled, over a thousand years ago. Fleeing a civil war for the soul of their people that ended in defeat, huddled in ships in no way prepared for the journey, many lives were lost and entire swathes of the fleet were lost to the ocean or carried by the tides to land elsewhere entirely.

Yet they persevered as they crossed a world that wanted them dead. Exhausted and beaten they arrived on the shores of what would be named Atyrza; turning the remains of their ships into their first homes and founding the city of Priaporai.

It is in this nature that the folk of Atyrza think of the Cyran Ocean: a measure of respect, but largely fearful caution earned through the long suffering of their ancestors. Sailors of these waters are treated with distance and concern, lest they bring the wrath of those terrible days back upon their people when they return from shore.

From whence the population of this place springs, none truly know. Nor, in truth, does the isles place on any map reflect with certainty where it lay. If one were to ask a tavern of sailors for their thoughts on this mist-shrouded isle, once would likely start a brawl in minutes.

What is known is that off the north-western coast lay an island; one populated by strange, emaciated creatures with a hunger for the flesh of the living. If they are some survivors of the great exodus driven mad in isolation, or terrible beasts exiled to this place by an unknown people is unclear. Regardless, they always react with brutal hostility to any interruption of their isolation; capturing any who do not engage them in battle, and consuming any and all with an unsettling enthusiasm.

Even the geography of the island is recorded inconsistently; some claim to have seen great mountains alive with fire when the isle emerges from the mist, others a desert wasteland or desolate swamp. What all should remember when sailing the western ocean is this: beware the dark mists, and should any shape loom out of it, no matter how bright or welcoming, turn your back and sail away with all speed.

Taking its name from the keening wail that washes across the coastline on the darkest nights of the year, this reef is oft considered to encapsulate the nature of Atyrza perfectly. Cruel, unforgiving, and clearly soaked in aeons of curses, the unnatural waters off the coast of Alabruszai can be navigated safely if one is willing to take the appropriate precautions.

Something strange happens in these waters as they are hit by the moonlight: shifting lights and colours dance across the waves, mesmerising in their beauty and threatening to hypnotise the unwary. Some claim they see impossible colours and shades for which they are no words, others hear words in the wailing nights called in languages they cannot recognise; things that burn into the psyche and leave one forever changed.

Ships travelling these waters at night find themselves lit from below; indeed, if one is astute and careful, they can even be used to navigate the shallow reefs that sprawl in twisting coils across this place. As a result, travelling during the day is actually considered the far more dangerous prospect for an experienced crew; a great many ships have crashed upon the rocks thinking it a peaceful cove, or an escape from the roughs that border the reef to the south.

A broken land of fire, ash and death, it is rare that this is not some long-lost curse or unsettling quirk of the local environment. Instead, this terrible wasteland was made very deliberately only a scant few centuries ago.

When the Dragon-Jarls arrived across the ocean during the Lyberai’s burgeoning iron age, they struck with a fury and force that stoked fears continent-wide. As they settled into their new lands, those fears formed into action: a crusade was gathered, massing on the western edge of the Dragon-Jarl’s conquered territory.

In response the Heilagreior, one of the clans of the Dragon-Jarls, commanded their shamans conduct a great ritual to stave off the invasion. It is not known if some conjured power spilled out of control, or if all proceeded exactly as intended; but regardless, twenty shamans burned their souls as kindling to ignite a fire that would consume half a nation and countless lives.

Stone cracked, soil burst and the land heaved in response to their conjuring. Great clouds of ash were thrown into the air that have still not settled, and fire poured in undulating waves across the land to scorch it to its very bones. Few survived this cataclysm, and fewer still have managed to cross the fields of sorrow and lived; to walk these lands is to wade through the ashes of the dead, and behold a flame that has already consumed nations.