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 |
| Coordinates | (-7960, 1313) |
A solemn, mist-shrouded structure of ancient, petrified wood and black glass, which serves as a living archive and cold prison for silent thralls. The air is thick with a profound despair and ancient secrets, a grim vigil against the world's inevitable decay. The silence is broken only by the whispers of the thralls, their minds broken and their bodies serving as living repositories of lost knowledge. Work is for the desperate and the stoic, who seek to contain the world's inevitable fall. Adventurers are needed to recover dangerous knowledge from corrupted sites, defend against raids from desperate rivals seeking their lore, or contain the relentless creeping corruption. Failure means the loss of knowledge, the loss of self, and the loss of a soul to the creeping madness that infests this realm.
Ancient structure made of petrified wood and black glass, enveloped in thick mist. The air is heavy with despair, and faint whispers of broken thralls echo within. The mausoleum exudes a cold, eerie aura, with twisted, dark vines creeping along its walls.