The Riven Lands are a fractured realm born from a magical event, The Sundering which violently pulled people from countless realities into a bleeding scar across existence. Magic here is a vile, twisting curse, its power warping flesh and mind. Its inhabitants, xenophobic and without loyalty, cling to life amidst decaying lands, endless wars, and horrifying Gods that everyone worships in some form. Hope is a lie; only brutal struggle remains in this world drowned in cynicism and sheer cruelty.
| Played | 8 times |
| Cloned | 3 times |
| Created | 2 days ago |
| Last Updated | Yesterday |
| Visibility | Public |
| Size | 0 |
| Type | Barren, cursed training ground |
The result of centuries of maritime blight and corrosive naval battles. The ground is a cracked, white-grey crust, littered with the splintered wreckage of countless ships and the bleached bones of victims. The air is thick with a biting, salty dust that chokes the lungs and corrodes metal. It serves as a grim training ground for Serpentscale's pirate fleets, a place where crews practice skirmishes and where failed mutineers are sent for brutal, public punishment. The threats here are relentless. The very ground is a curse, and the air is a poison. Salt-scoured abominations, twisted creatures that are born from the corrosive atmosphere, roam the flats, hunting anything that moves. The ghosts of mutineers and victims of the brutal pirate code are a constant, mind-rending presence, and the corrosive dust can slowly erode a person's will and sanity. It is a place of endless suffering and death, where the land itself is a grim monument to the brutal reign of the pirates.
The ground is a cracked salt crust with splintered shipwreck debris and bleached bones scattered about. A choking salty dust hangs in the air, shimmering faintly under a harsh sun, with ghostly apparitions flickering among the ruins.