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 | (2246, 8461) |
A tall, unsettling tower of petrified wood that looms over the realm's deep, lightless caverns. It is a place of austere silence and grim contemplation, where Shadar-kai elders conduct their grave business in hushed whispers and solemn gestures. The structure seems to absorb all sound, and the only noise is the faint echo of rock grinding on rock from the depths. Work is of a ritualistic nature, often involving immense personal risk and a profound sense of foreboding. Adventurers may be hired to escort living sacrifices to ancient containment sites, where something unspeakable is kept at bay. They must purge petrified sentinels animated by despair that have turned hostile against their own masters, or map the shifting, unstable geological formations of the deep earth where primal malice and ancient horrors lie dormant, waiting for a chance to break free. The price of failure is to become a silent sentinel yourself, trapped in stone.
A tall, dark tower made of twisted petrified wood, its surface rough and gnarled, with faintly glowing runes etched into the stone. The spire emits an eerie silence, and the surrounding caverns are shrouded in darkness with occasional faint echoes of grinding rock.