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 | (-1947, 8150) |
In the deepest, sunless parts of Ironfast's mines, massive pits have been carved out to cultivate blight, the suffocating heat and damp air broken only by the mournful drip of polluted water from the ceiling. The distant groans of the industrial city above are a constant, low thrum. Here, Death-Veil Fungus grows in huge, sprawling colonies, fed by the constant trickle of polluted water. In the remote, waterlogged chambers, Grave-Lichen thrives on the petrified bones of overworked slaves. The work found here is a constant risk to both body and mind. It might involve a solitary watch over a single, glowing pit, or the quiet, maddening task of scraping a small amount of fungus from a specific corpse's bone for a guild master. The miners are forced to ignore the maddening whispers of the dead, a psychological toll that breaks many and makes them easier to control. The fungus is a tool of both industry and subjugation.
Massive carved pits filled with glowing fungus colonies, damp air heavy with heat and pollution, petrified bones scattered and covered in lichen, dripping polluted water from the ceiling, faint groans from the city above echoing through the tunnels.