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 | (-3751, 4338) |
A colossal, repurposed galleon, its splintered hull perpetually caught in a perpetual storm, its decks slick with rain and decay. The air is thick with the scent of salt and rot, and the constant groaning of the wood is a backdrop to the grim harvest. Here, Madness Berries grow on the rotting decks, feeding on the despair of the captured. In the lightless cargo hold, Death-Veil Fungus is cultivated on the bones of those who failed the captains. Work here typically involves guarding the enslaved thralls who tend to the crops, ensuring they do not consume the blight. Other tasks include harvesting the blighted crops for use as a drug to break the minds of rival crews and turn them into docile, obedient workers, and fending off the colossal sea monsters drawn to the galleon's dark energy.
The galleon's splintered hull is battered by endless storms, with rain-slick decks covered in patches of eerie glowing Madness Berries and clusters of Death-Veil Fungus in shadowy holds. The air is thick with salt, rot, and a palpable aura of despair, while the constant creaking of the wood and distant monstrous roars create a haunting atmosphere.