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 | (-4801, 4513) |
A squat, reinforced structure of gnarled trees and thorns, perfectly camouflaged within the treacherous forest. It is the brutal heart of the Elven populace, where kin-bands gather to trade and plan their savage hunts and raids, their faces painted in grim patterns of mud and blood. Work is lethal and unforgiving, and the line between hunter and prey is thinner than a spider's silk. An adventurer might be tasked with hunting blighted beasts, whose rotting flesh and foul breath corrupt all they touch. Other jobs include tracking and ambushing human military patrols, or acting as living bait to lure out a monstrous forest abomination that preys on the unwary and the foolish. Here, only the most savage and cunning survive, and the forest itself is an enemy to be conquered, not a home.
The lodge is constructed from twisted, thorn-covered branches and thick roots, blending seamlessly into the dark, dense forest. Its walls are jagged and rough, with natural spikes and vines forming a defensive barrier. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of earth and blood, and the atmosphere is tense and primal.