Gravenholt Peaks

Gravenholt Peaks – The Mountains of Dying Fire

"Where the bones of giants mourn their own creation."

The Gravenholt Peaks rise like blackened teeth from the northern horizon, their summits split by veins of sapphire fire that burn without heat. Once, this was the cradle of the giants — beings wrought from divine flame and ancient stone. When the First Flame fell to earth, it birthed two races: the Fireborn and the Frostbound. They waged war for eons, their battles shattering the sky and shaping the mountains themselves.

Now, only echoes remain. The ruins of titanic halls litter the cliffs — doorways tall enough for gods, forges still smoldering after centuries of silence. The surviving giant-blooded, known as the Graven Lords, linger in half-ruined citadels. Their forms are diminished, their power diluted, but their memories are long. They rule over dying forges, tending to embers that refuse to die out.

The air smells faintly of iron and ash. The ground sometimes trembles — not from quakes, but from the shifting bones of the mountains themselves. It is said that deep beneath Gravenholt lies the Forge of Eidon, where the gods first shaped mortal souls from flame and frost. Many venture there seeking power, yet none return with their shape unaltered.

The Graven Lords say fire was a mercy. The cold, a curse. And now both are running out.