Explore the Kailai

Renowned for being the first place in which Naga raiding fleets were encountered, these northern waters have become a tight-knit hive of coast-hugging fishing and naval patrols from Celdara in equal measure.

The coastal waters here are bountiful with fish and crabs; while this feeds thousands on shore it clearly also feeds great ocean predators whom venture the closest to land they have ever been seen here. As a result, venturing too far north from shore is considered a dangerous prospect; few explorers whom have ventured that way have returned.

While the Naga were first encountered here, few raiding fleets venture this way in the modern era. Scholars propose that the waters to the east have become more dangerous, or that navigating around the Stygian Abyss to the north now ventures too far into the territorial waters of terrible predators that take great offence to ocean-going vessels.

It was across these waters, in ancient times, that the last of those whom held fast to the old desert gods fled. When the war for the soul of the Kailai was lost, those who did not join the burgeoning faith of Aten built a great fleet over the course of a decade and fled westward.

For centuries their fate was a mystery: they appeared to disappear across the mist-shrouded waves and out of the pages of history. In truth, these folk became the Lyberai, and settled the far-off land of Atyrza as their own and still live there to this day.

The ocean itself is a vast expanse; poorly explored and even less understood. The cooler winds it carries from the unknown make the western coast of the Kailai more temperate; this mix of Kailain heat and refreshing cool has created ideal conditions for vineyards all along the coast, where most of the Kailai would prove entirely hostile to such delicate plants.

By far the busiest waters adjoining the Kailai, the Seben ocean is as close as one can get to a fortified seaway. The Balanzarian Navy are ceaseless in their patrols, and in turn their bloody encounters with Naga raiding fleets are a constant event.

Connecting the Kailai to Xlan to the south, and the Zagalith Fractals to the east, this ocean way is somewhat shielded by the land surrounding it. Calmer and more placid than neighbouring oceans as a result, it is here that the great wealth of traffic – both trade and raiding parties – make for the Kailai and beyond.

Unsurprisingly the eastern coast of the Kailai is lined with forts, and the often-volcanic islands in this ocean change hands constantly as new lookouts and fortifications are built, destroyed or occupied. The sea floor is littered with wrecks, and the rocky coastlines have become the grave of many a sailor; for all its calm, it is without doubt the bloodiest ocean in the world.

Running far off to the east along the northern coast of Xlan, these waters are largely unexplored to the folk of the Kailai.

What little is known is of the near-constant storms that roll across this ocean with a relentless fury. While it remains passable with astute timing and skilled sailors, it remains a dangerous prospect irrespective of the time of year or the size of vessel employed. As a result, the Naga raids that venture south are less frequent than one might expect, and it is more common to see a slave-fleet make the long run down the Seben Ocean to reach the shores of Xlan instead.

Scholarly investigation into this ocean often ties back to curiosity about Xlan and its native people, though other questions still remain. Many posit the theory that the great storms are some form of defence created by the native folk; a powerful ritual or ancient enchantment, but evidence for this remains scant. Yet entirely unknown is what lays further east: where does the Necuan end, is there land in the far east, or do the waters stretch on forever?

It is not known what created or sustains this maelstrom; it has been a fact of life for as long as history has been recorded. These waters are deadly, and the few denizens that inhabit it are almost obscene in their size and brutality.

Physically, the Stygian Abyss is a lethal mess of shallow reefs, jagged rock and sudden, fathomless deeps. Storms do not simply pass through this place, any that even venture close seem to become locked within it; their fury bottled up and boiling over in intensity to leave the sea a roiling sprawl. Combined with the leviathans that will crush any ship out of little more than spite, these waters are the haunt of only the mad or the desperate.

Yet from the few whom have returned from those waters, terrible rumours spread. Talk that time does not work as it should; with events recurring, twisting and overlapping in strange ways. Whispers that spirits both past and future will descend to visit misery upon any crew, or that in the howling winds you can hear the screams of the doomed as they were swallowed whole. They say to venture here is to come as close to damnation as one can in the waking world, and with how few return they might well be right.

Ruled by the nobles of House Kasmat, the city of Celdara sprawls over the expansive coastal delta at the mouth of the river A’at. The ground here has been proven to be rich in rare minerals and gemstones; such wealth has also proven to be remarkably easy to access in the softer rock of the region.

Unsurprisingly these vast stores of potential wealth have been relentlessly exploited by House Kasmat and its lesser vassals; so much so that a number of cenotes have formed throughout the delta thanks to their exploitation. Even these water-filled pits have continued to be exploited for their mineral wealth – becoming sub-districts of the city in their own right.

As a result of all this wealth, Celdara was the genesis point of the comprehensive banking system that has since spread far and wide across the continent. The necessity of tracking, moving and investing vast stores of wealth into new mining interests as veins are discovered resulted in the founding of the Kvatal merchant bank; the first bank in the shadow of which so many have followed.

Despite their vast wealth and the influence this could give them far beyond their own borders, the Archons of House Kasmat have proven subtle and careful creatures. Their investments can be seen far and wide, but they rarely expand into total dominance of singular industries; this astute nature has proven a boon time and again, as they have ridden out no less than three continent-wide financial crises with minimal losses, and countless smaller booms and busts with nary a concern.

Known as The City of Spires, the ancient city of Meldan’Kellia is a place whose mere existence is a point of ongoing controversy.

In the earliest days of the faith of Aten and its caste system, a wide population of those among the new noble caste were found to be practicing magic; something expressly forbidden to them, for that was to be the domain of the priesthood. Those whom did not accept the customary offer to be brought into the fold of the priestly caste and trained formally were instead exiled: these exiles in turn became House Tetra, and it was they who founded Meldan’Kellia deep in the Jiitai mountains.

Nestled in a long valley between snow-capped peaks, the architecture of this city is entirely divorced from the rest of the continent. A vertical obsession seems to have taken its architects; countless spires jut like a forest from the slopes of the valley connected by a web of skybridges and walkways. Deep below, among all the anchoring reinforcements needed for such construction, a second web of tunnels and basements connects experimental laboratories, hidden archives and secret chambers to further connect the insular folk of this city of exiles.

While House Tetra is no longer the only noble house in the city – a number of splinters have formed, and later noble-exiles have been welcomed – they remain the premier power and most influential. This is in great part due to their continued practice of the same sin that saw them exiled; while the Priesthood are conservative and careful in their expansion of arcane knowledge, House Tetra is always pushing the boundaries of what is known with a ravenous appetite.

Of late, the Priesthood’s stance on these supposed heretics has been forced to shift. The advances in arcane and alchemical learning pioneered by the Arcanists of House Tetra and its colleagues have proven invaluable; so much so their import can no longer be denied. When the weeping plague threatened the population of Balanzar, it was House Tetra’s alchemists who concocted the first inoculation. When the agents of the serpent Lernaeus schemed to overtake the continent, the mages of Meldan’Kellia were at the fore of the shadow-war that saw that threat never come to pass. Thus begins a slow path to reconciliation; though if the freedoms of the nobility and the scriptures of the faith can truly find common ground remains to be seen.

Ruled by House Kenaspes, this city isolated on the western side of the Jiitai mountains has always been an aloof place of contemplation and scholarly thought. Divorced from fears of the Naga by great distances, and shielded from much of the volatility of politics by the great mountains, few places on the continent are more insular and quieter than Veldun.

Squeezed betwixt coastal cliffs and the slopes of cyclopean mountains, and surrounded to the north and south to great vineyards, there is no shortage of inspiration in this place of peace. Unsurprisingly, the ruling nobility have taken up patronage of all the arts; founding schools and universities so that every maestro may spread their techniques, and philosophers can debate the great questions of the mind and soul.

Funded by the enduring popularity of their exotic wines among the merchant and noble castes, Veldun is considered in the place in which culture is refined and distilled, before it is spread to the rest of the continent. It is here that those weary and exhausted by the world’s troubles travel to recover and refresh their minds, and return full of newfound vigour.

The eastern bulwark that holds at bay the constant threat of Naga incursion, Balanzar has been ruled for countless generations by the steady hand of House Amunet. With them at the helm, they have stopped invasions dead, and kept a great deal more at arm’s length with their vast navy.

Closest to the serpentine threat reaching out from the Zagalith Fractals, Balanzar began its life as a fort and lookout post. It soon evolved into a sprawling fortification, connected to other forts spread out across the bay around it and growing rapidly. Great fleets have been laid down in its burgeoning harbours to guard its waters, and a two-tiered system of walls keep any prospect of a landed assault a distant fantasy to most.

In its centuries of endurance, Balanzar has fought off countless attempts to overtake the city. As a result, its people are unsurprisingly militarised even down to the lowliest dock-worker. In times of crisis or even siege every resident of the city is expected to take up arms and fight for their home; indeed, fighting drills and practice bouts have become so ingrained in the local culture that even the wealthiest merchants openly carry swords and axes.

The greatest contribution of Balanzar to the continent at large is their advances in naval technology. It was they who first invented the compass, and whose shipwrights have been at the bleeding edge of the greatest vessels of both trade and warfare in any generation.

Sat upon where the River Mossul splits out into the A’at and Ahbek, the trade-city of Nerkai rests upon the very heart of Kailain commerce. House Zerkash quietly take their cut and share of almost every transaction on the continent, placing them in a singularly powerful position.

Famed in the modern age for its fabulous wealth, Nerkai was the second city on the entire continent to be founded. Initially it was little more than a place to centralise the miles upon miles of farms that hug the rivers to feed much of the continent; luck or impeccable foresight have seen what was once called Aten’s Breadbasket to become the most powerful financial entity on the continent.

However, such dominance has clearly bled into the minds of House Zerkash. Over successive generations, their diplomatic stance has become increasingly aggressive, and their military has expanded to include five full legions – one of the largest military compliments ever assembled by a single party. Clearly, ambition has taken root at the heart of this great house; while their power expands and borders grow, their relations with their neighbours continue to decline, and small border wars are already becoming a disturbing frequency.

The Holy City of Aten, this is perhaps the single most important site on the continent to those whom call this land home. It is the first city founded – marking the end of the nomadic era for the Saszrukai of the Kailai – and the point upon which Aten’s will descended to work the miracles that begat the faith.

Lake Arretal, upon the banks of which Setara sits, was the result of one such miracle; as divine hands cracked open the mountains and caused rivers to spill forth across where before there had only been desert. This lake feeds much of the cities’ more than a million inhabitants through both its consistent tides bringing fertility to the surrounding lands and the wealth of aquatic life that now call the lake home.

With no less than four great temple-pyramids, as well as the ancient Palace of the Prophet – which housed and protected the cities first inhabitants – the city is full of holy places and is undoubtedly where the priestly caste has the most power and influence. Indeed, no noble house has ever been able to truly establish hegemony and declare themselves rulers of Setara; instead, smaller houses jostle over districts and land rights, all under the watchful eye of the priesthood.

Over the centuries its population has boomed, with now over a million souls calling the city home. Twice now the city walls have proved insufficient; as Setara spilled out beyond them and new curtain walls had to be laid down. Even now, the third curtain wall is no longer enough to protect the population, and an ongoing debate on the fourth wall rages. Meanwhile, the eyes of the greedy and ambitious turn to this place where faith began and wonder if something new and grand might be started here.

More of a network of knightly estates, forts and keeps in the southern Jiitai mountains than a city, Amexal is considered somewhat of a peculiarity amongst its fellows, thanks in part to the unique culture of their nobility.

While the city is ruled by House Krie – who founded the city centuries ago – this only provides them the most senior position of Justiciar in the city’s great forum. All nobles of sufficient power or influence are bestowed with knightly titles, each with positions respective to their power in that same forum. While not a full-blown democracy, it has nonetheless imbued the noble caste of the city with a greater sense of responsibility to those lower castes they hold authority over, as well as a greater influence over how their might and wealth is spent.

Most famous, however, are the Drakkar. These great mountain-beasts, the apex predators of the region, have for centuries been tamed by the most daring and audacious of the knights of Amexal. While doing so carries great risk, for a Drakkar is a huge beast possessing the strength and power enough to hunt even elephants with ease, the benefits in bonding with such a creature are immense. Thus, the trade of such creatures has become a heart of Amexalian culture and industry, and their greatest point of pride.

While it squats upon the lower slopes of the Akhom Mountains, the tendrils of industry spread far and deep to the south of this industrial city; for there is great wealth of all kinds to be found in those dark places.

The mountains have a reputation for being dark, foreboding and dangerous; and Ferrakar matches this reputation perfectly. Long since dominated by the merchant interests fuelled by its iron-wrought wealth, the ‘ruling’ nobility of House Sadek are a shadow of their compatriots in other cities. Instead, the interests of Guilds and business conglomerates take precedent; a desire for profit crushing all else in its path.

Known for labyrinthine intrigue and the cutthroat nature of its political sphere, there have long been attempts to try and bring Ferrakar into the fold of the wider continent and temper its harsher edges. The Guilds in turn offer armies-for-hire to the highest bidder, instead seeking to draw the rest of the continent into their profit-driven ways and expand their own hegemony further.

This balance has always been a delicate dance, and it remains to be seen to which side it may tip; but as political murder continues to remain commonplace in Ferrakar, the eyes of the Priesthood are being drawn closer and closer to the city. There is even talk of attempts to instil divine law upon the city to end the violence, but if the Guilds would acquiesce to such a thing remains to be seen.

A site from before written memory, Musahara is rarely visited in the modern era, though its name is taught to all in their earliest years.

It was here, during the nomad-days of the Saszrukai and before the coming of Aten, that great festivals and sacrificial prayer would be given unto the native desert-gods of this land. In turn, these deities each blessed a chosen Incarnate with a spark of their own divine power, so that they might protect their followers as they travelled the sprawling dunes.

Each year, these Incarnates would renew their vows and refill the font of their power in the largest gathering of their folk during the harshest season of desert heat. Tens of thousands would fill the vast crater, and their prayers would resound off the rocky walls of this place to be carried up to the heavens.

Yet all things come to an end: one year, when the nomads gathered and the Incarnates took their vows, there was no response. No renewal of their powers came; leaving them with only the dregs of whatever they had not already expended in the year prior. No longer kept youthful and mighty by the touch of the gods, these Incarnates would each burn themselves out in the following years trying to protect their people: The Era of Woe had begun.

To this day, what precisely happened to the desert-gods to cause their silence is not known. The Era of Woe only ended when Aten revealed itself to the Prophet Aun, and their bargain was struck upon what is now the shore of Lake Arretal. The crater has lain cold and empty since that fateful day, evoking only memories of old fear and carried onward as a cautionary tale on the fickle nature of the old gods.

More of a myth of the sands than a true place, rumours have always carried across the continent of lost cities, forgotten ruins and secreted wealth hidden in the strangest of places.

Vicious sandstorms often whip across the deepest parts of the desert throughout the year, and it is to these storms that the legend of Za’Aldor is tied. It is said at the heart of the greatest, harshest sandstorms that the desert can conjure, a treasure can be found. Not merely gold or jewels, by the remains of an ancient civilisation whom built great towers of glass and steel; whom bent the very forces of nature to their will, and when their demise loomed over them, they chose to cloak their wealth and power in the cover of storms just to spite those whom would come after.

Countless expeditions have been launched in search of this place. If any have found it, they have kept the secret of their discovery unto their demise. Perhaps there is a curse upon such a place, forbidding any word to be spoken of the wonders glimpsed; perhaps their simple avarice has kept them from breathing a word to others.

Whatever the truth, the mystery of Za’Aldor endures.