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 | (-7913, 1283) |
Carved into the base of a massive, petrified tree, this solemn council hall is where Shadar-kai leaders meet. Its purpose is the grim administration of their dwindling populace. Here, the elders hold hushed debates on the allocation of scarce resources for their isolated enclaves. Scribes meticulously record the names of the newly deceased onto cold stone tablets, a somber act of remembrance. The hall also functions as a site for administering their justice, which often involves a shared, telepathic "Lament of Scorn" to punish those who show a lack of fatalistic discipline. You would find council members quietly arranging the ritualistic containment of dangerous, sanity-devouring truths they collect from the woods, ensuring a fragile, grim stability.
The interior is dimly lit by faint bioluminescent fungi, with cold stone tablets lining the walls. The petrified tree's massive roots form natural benches and a central dais for the elders. The air is heavy with a somber, reverent atmosphere, and faint whispers of telepathic lamentations occasionally echo.