A dying world where power is cruel and survival is grim.
| Played | 44 times |
| Cloned | 1 times |
| Created | 25 days ago |
| Last Updated | Yesterday |
| Visibility | Public |
Abysall Steps
spiral descent carved into the stone by forces unknown, its worn grooves resembling claw marks. The deeper one goes, the louder the whispers grow—though none understand the words.
Anchors Rest
Anchors Rest sits at the heart of Driftwreck, its warped wooden beams salvaged from wrecked galleons and its lanterns swaying from repurposed rigging. The tavern is a patchwork of maritime history—barnacle-clad figureheads stare down from the walls, cannon barrels serve as stools, and faded sails form a tattered canopy overhead. It’s a haven for smugglers, and storm-weary wanderers looking for strong drink and stronger deals. The bar itself is carved from an old ship’s mast, still bearing the scars of battle. Every item here has a story, and if you know the right person, you might learn which ones still hold secrets worth buying—or stealing.
Argent Hall
The Argent Hall, embodies Vaelstryn Spire’s fusion of tradition and innovation. The dark elven Seat, sculpted from argentwood with veins of crystallized aether, resonates with wisdom. Silver-light curtains refract moonlight into shifting constellations, while the Celestial Archive hovers in silent orbit. A vast skyward window reveals the Sapphire Coast, framed by Echoing Pillars inscribed with centuries of elven philosophy.
Ashen Forge
massive forge powered by volcanic heat and seawater, where weapons are tempered in flame and blood. The ringing of hammers never ceases, and only the strongest smiths earn the right to wield its tools.
Ashenfang Manor
A crumbling estate built atop shifting sulfur fields, its blackened walls stained by years of acrid fumes. The air hangs thick with the scent of decay, and the ground trembles with unseen forces beneath the surface. Once a noble retreat, now a forsaken husk, its halls echo with whispers carried by the choking winds. Few dare approach, fearing what lingers behind its warped doors.
Auremn Manor
Auremn Manor stands as a monument to wealth and silent menace, its grand structure rising above the city’s tangled streets. Ornate marble and darkwood frame its towering halls, polished to a deceptive gleam despite the shadows pooling in its corners. Velvet-draped windows conceal more than opulence—whispers of clandestine dealings cling to its air like perfume. Inside, corridors stretch in calculated elegance, lined with gilded sconces and portraits of Auremn's past rulers, their painted eyes bearing silent judgment. Henrik Auremn presides over it all from a vast study, where blackened tomes and sealed ledgers rest upon a desk too large for simple business. The manor is not simply a home—it is a throne for an unseen empire, where power moves in hushed exchanges behind closed doors.
Black Spire Keep
The heart of the bastion, where commanders plot defenses amid frost-rimed tapestries and glowing runes.
Black Teeth
Jagged obsidian formations that rise from the tides like gnashing fangs. The water churns violently around them, dragging wreckage and bodies into their shadowed depths. Those who listen closely swear they hear voices tangled in the crashing waves.
Black Tide Docks
Sprawling harbor where salt-stained ships unload cargo under the watchful eye of ruthless dockmasters.
Black Vein Mire
A swamp where the waters run dark and sluggish, pooling into unnatural patterns that resemble faces twisted in silent agony.
Blacktooth Bay
A lifeless stretch where the ground swallows the unwary whole. Beneath its deceptively solid surface lie tunnels of drowned bodies and lost treasures, their stories buried beneath centuries of ice and decay.
Bleakhorn Spire Entrance
The entrance to Bleakhorn Spire looms from the jagged mountainside, framed by colossal stone figures with obscured faces, their hands grasping ever-burning braziers. The carvings around the doorway, worn yet intricate, whisper of a long-forgotten era. Weathered steps lead upward, cracked and uneven, scattered with remnants of the mountain’s slow decay. Sparse vegetation claws at the edges, barely clinging to life in the oppressive gloom. The passage beyond is shrouded in shadow—an invitation, or a warning.
Bleeding Cairns
Ancient burial mounds that seep crimson fluid, staining the ground as if mourning those lost beneath.
Bloodroot Cenotaph
A ruined shrine overtaken by pulsing roots that drink deep from the land’s lifeblood. Warlocks seek the cenotaph for forgotten rituals, but few leave unchanged.
Bloodshroud Expanse
The Bloodshroud Expanse is a scar upon the land, where humanity made its final stand against the god of destruction. Shattered weapons and blackened bones litter the battlefield, remnants of a war long lost. The air still carries whispers of dying prayers, and the earth itself refuses to heal—crimson flowers bloom in patterns of old battle lines, marking where warriors fell. Though time has dragged the world forward, Bloodshroud remains frozen in its sorrow, a graveyard of defiance against an inevitable end.
Bloodslick Pits
A brutal battleground where warriors prove their worth by fighting beasts dredged from the abyss. The sand is said to never dry, soaked in centuries of bloodshed.
Bloodsoaked Waterfall
A Waterfaall that once flowed clear and strong but is pure red, mirroring the Werlands' slow decline.
Bone Lanterns
A cluster of hollowed-out skulls impaled on branches, their empty sockets flickering with blue fire. No one knows who maintains them, only that their glow fades when spirits prowl.
Boneward Perch
A lone watchtower standing amidst desolation, its upper levels barred and untouched—what lingers there refuses to leave.
Brinebone Hall
The largest communal building, its walls reinforced with whalebone and rotting hull fragments, a place of both judgment and feasting.
Brinefang Hearth
A massive tavern carved into the hollowed-out ribs of a beached leviathan, its walls slick with salt and firelight. The air is thick with the scent of brined meat, seaweed ale, and blood from frequent brawls.
Celestial Tower
A soaring spire of silvered glass where scholars and artificers craft magical wonders.
Charnel Crossing
A bridge of ancient bones spanning a river of blackened water, each step echoing the weight of centuries.
Crimson River
river of deep red liquid that flows sluggishly, thick as blood. Some say it isn’t water at all, but the lifeblood of something ancient, slowly bleeding out.
Crossroad Tavern
The Crossroad Tavern stands at the meeting of forgotten paths, a haven for wanderers, fugitives, and those seeking shelter.
Crying Monolith
A towering black stone, slick with an unceasing flow of rain, though the sky above it remains bone dry.
Dread Vaults
Subterranean catacombs sealed behind rusted gates, their corridors lined with the remains of forsaken nobility.
Drowned Sanctum
A sunken temple, its entrance buried beneath shifting dunes. Occasional glimpses of its spires appear when the winds relent, revealing intricate carvings that speak of lost deities and forsaken rituals.
Drowning Glade
A stretch of sinking land where twisted trees rise from the brackish mire, their gnarled limbs tangled with remnants of those who strayed too deep. Some say the trees whisper, remembering the voices of those they've claimed.
Drowning House Of Sorrow
A ruined House where the air feels heavy, suffocating. Some say the walls **drink sound**, swallowing voices before they can escape.
Duskhaven Library
A vast collection of books and scrolls, preserving knowledge for scholars and storytellers.
Duskhaven Square
A lively center of town, bustling with conversation and performances, where people gather to celebrate city traditions
Duskroot Apothecary
A modest yet enduring refuge within Sorrowshade Village, The Duskroot Apothecary is a sanctuary for those seeking remedies amidst the ruin. Nestled within the remains of an old stone dwelling, its walls are lined with frostbitten shelves of dried herbs, shadowbloom petals, and vials of eerie, luminescent tinctures. The scent of damp earth and crushed bark lingers, mingling with the faint whisper of simmering potions.
Eastern Camp
This is a safe place to camp for characters to sleep and rest, although somebody should be on watch incase of an ambush.
Echospire Hall
A council chamber where innovators and elders debate the course of Selyndra's future.
Eclipsed Well
A pit of swirling void where water should be, its surface reflecting not the cavern roof, but something far worse—something watching from beyond comprehension.
Ember Crucible
The Ember Crucible is the molten heart of Khazad’var’s forgeworks—a cavernous furnace where the air shimmers with blistering heat, and the glow of smoldering embers never fades. Fed by deep-vein coal and enchanted volcanic stone, its flames are relentless, capable of tempering the toughest dwarven steel. The Crucible stands as both a sacred and practical centerpiece, where master smiths shape the future of their craft, guided by the wisdom of ancestors whose echoes seem to linger in the crackling fire.
Ember Vault
The Ember Vaults lie buried beneath layers of hardened lava and scorched ruins, remnants of a civilization that sought to tame the fire but perished in its embrace. Their entrance—half-collapsed and jagged—breathes waves of heat, casting shifting mirages that obscure the horrors within. Inside, the walls pulse with residual embers, veins of molten rock illuminating the labyrinthine corridors in a dim, flickering glow. The air is thick with the scent of sulfur and ancient ash. Forgotten mechanisms of brass and obsidian line the halls, their designs twisted by heat and time, once meant to harness volcanic energy but now silent relics of hubris.
Emeberleaf Inn
A cozy refuge nestled at the heart of Sorrowshade Village, the Emberleaf Inn offers warmth and hospitality to those who pass through. Its sturdy timber frame, adorned with delicate carvings of intertwined vines and stars, welcomes travelers with the scent of spiced cider and fresh bread.
Exhumed Steps
A crumbling stairway leading into the earth, half-buried by shifting crimson soil. What lies beneath is unknown, but old texts speak of chambers where the dead were entombed with their weapons.
Farming Fields Of Eidralis
The Farming Fields of Eidralis stretch across the land in uneven patches of prosperity and decay. Golden stalks of grain sway with vitality, while brittle vines curl in lifeless ruin. The air carries both the scent of fresh earth and the sting of rot, a silent testament to the fickle nature of survival. Farmers toil beneath a sun that offers warmth to some and withering heat to others, their gazes lingering on the uncertain fate of their harvest.
Fenlight Graves
Faint, flickering lantern-like glows drift aimlessly through the fog, luring travelers toward unseen depths. Those who follow vanish without a sound, leaving only disturbed water and a lingering sense of wrongness.
Flameheart Chapel
A revived temple dedicated to warmth and resilience, where people gather to honor their ancestors and seek inner strength.
Forgotten Observatory
A ruin untouched by time, where astronomers once charted stars that never existed.
Forgotten Wound
deep fissure in the earth, its walls slick with red. Those who descend claim to hear the echoing heartbeat of something that was buried long ago.
Forsaken Altar
A ruined stone dais, veined with blackened moss and crumbling sigils. Those who linger too close find their voices fading, their thoughts unraveling into nameless dread
Forsaken Market
The skeletal remains of a once-thriving trade hub, where wind-rustled, save for occasional exchanges of scavenged goods.
Forsaken Pews
Rolling fields overtaken by bulbous fungal growths, their spores thick enough to choke the air.
Forsaken Watch
An abandoned war camp perched on the wasteland’s edge, its banners tattered, its walls lined with unmoving sentries—their bodies petrified mid-battle.
Glided Docks
No longer a haven for smugglers, this harbor is now a well-guarded center of trade, ensuring safe passage for travelers and merchants.
Gloam Manor
Gloam Manor looms like a specter on the outskirts of Cragviel, its dark stone walls swallowed by climbing ivy and the weight of centuries-old secrets. The gothic spires claw at the sky, casting jagged shadows that stretch over the desolate cobblestone path leading to its heavy wooden door. A lone lantern sputters near the entrance, its feeble glow swallowed by the oppressive gloom. Once a seat of power for a forgotten noble house, the manor has long since fallen into eerie disrepair. Some say it is abandoned—others whisper of figures moving behind the cracked windows at dusk. The manor serves as a meeting ground for clandestine dealings, a refuge for those who thrive in the underbelly of Cragviel’s political intrigue. It is a place where bargains are struck in hushed tones, where betrayal festers in the candlelit halls, and where lingering spirits may hold grudges that transcend death.
Gloomslick Mire
A place where the air hangs heavy with rot, and the murky waters churn with unseen terrors. The Abyssal Gurglar’s presence warps the landscape, turning reeds into skeletal hands and filling the shallows with the whispers of drowned souls. The deeper one wades, the less certain reality becomes—sinking into an abyss that does not let go.
Gravebrew Remedies
A dimly lit apothecary nestled between sagging buildings, its air thick with the scent of damp earth and bitter herbs. Bottles of murky tinctures line the shelves, their labels worn and faded, whispering of old cures and forgotten poisons. The owner—a quiet figure with eyes like dying embers—never asks questions, only listens, measuring remedies with a steady hand.
Greyspire Colossus
A titanic statue, weathered and cracked, standing defiant against the storms. No records remain of the ruler or god it once honored, but its presence is undeniable—a guardian of the forgotten.
Grieving Swamp
A bog that never reflects light, its surface black as ink. Those who stare too long into its depths claim to see lost loved ones beckoning from below.
Gutspike Hall
A big feasting hall where warriors revel in their victories. Meat is roasted over open flames, and any unresolved disputes are settled in brutal brawls atop the long tables. Only the strongest remain standing by night’s end.
Harken Market
A dark marketplace offering stolen goods and treasures, where city gaurds do not go.
Heartbound Cavern
cavern where the walls beat like a giant heart, deep and slow. Some warlocks claim the land itself has a heart buried in its depths, and tapping into its rhythm grants power.
Hevshem's Manor
Hevshem's stands as a chilling monument to Lord Gallos Hevshem’s influence, its towering presence both majestic and foreboding. Smooth marble floors reflect the flickering candlelight, casting shifting patterns beneath the towering obsidian pillars that frame every hall. The air within is thick with an unnatural stillness, as if the weight of history presses against its walls
Hollow Eyes
A phenomenon where the stars seem to vanish, leaving the plains drowned in unnatural darkness as the Herd moves.
Hollow Hull
An abandoned ship turned into an orphanage, its splintered remains sheltering those who lost everything to the tides.
Hollow Lantern
A famed tavern where the powerful and desperate drink side by side, exchanging secrets over gilded goblets.
Hollow Shore
A stretch of beach where the sand is riddled with skeletal remains, their brittle bones shifting with the wind. Some say the corpses whisper as the tides rise, sharing secrets of drowned voyages and forgotten betrayals.
Hollowed Bastion
A fortress swallowed by ash and wind, its towering walls barely visible beneath the swirling dust. Once a seat of power, now a crumbling monument to a kingdom erased from history.
Hollowreach Manor
Hollowreach Manor stands like a relic of sorrow, its gothic spires clawing at the storm-heavy sky. The weathered stone bears the stains of time, and dim lights flicker behind dust-cloaked windows. Twisted trees encircle the estate, their skeletal branches reaching for the walls like grasping fingers.
Husk Of Vorran
A ruined city swallowed by crimson rot, its skeletal towers barely standing above the corrupted mire.
Ironshard Chasm
A massive canyon, its walls lined with veins of toxic metals that shimmer ominously in the dim light. The chasm is home to scavenger camps, mining the cursed minerals for weapons and armor. Its depths are said to be inhabited by monstrous creatures.
Khazad'var Throne Room
The Khazad’var Throne Room stands as a fading monument to dwarven rule. Cracked stone walls bear faint traces of ancient runes, their meaning lost to time. A jagged metal throne sits atop a worn staircase, its dark surface rusted and cold. Tattered banners hang in solemn silence, their insignias barely visible. Light filters through a high opening, casting long shadows across the fractured floor. Moss creeps along the edges.
Lamenting Willow
Ancient tree with twisted trunks, its bark etched with claw marks as if something inside tried to escape. Their hanging branches sway without wind, whispering indecipherable pleas.
Last Vow
A memorial of nameless stones stacked by hunters who never returned, each rock placed in remembrance by those who followed.
Luminous Bazaar
A night market illuminated by arcane lanterns, where rare gemstones and enchanted artifacts exchange hands.
Molten Crucible
A smoldering forge infused with ancient enchantments, where weapons are tempered in volcanic fire.
Moonlit Court
A serene courtyard surrounded by ivy-covered stonework, offering a peaceful retreat from the city’s restless energy.
Moran Mine
Stretching for miles beneath the mountains, these tunnels are filled with remnants of dwarven industry—rusted carts, shattered pickaxes, and eerie whispers where the stone once sang.
Morrow Gate
An archway crafted from the rib bones of colossal creatures, marking the graveyard’s entrance. Orc warbands often leave offerings here—trophies of slain foes or shattered blades—to appease the spirits lingering in the steppes.
Mourning Well
A dried-up well said to hold echoes of the last words spoken by those lost to time.
Murmuring Graves
Rows of tombstones etched with shifting inscriptions, names changing as if reflecting the lives of those still living
Nameless Basilica
A cathedral without records, where golden murals still shift in the flickering torchlight, depicting events yet to come.
Nameless Boneyard
The Nameless Boneyard is a vast, sunken graveyard where identities dissolve with time. Rows of shattered bones lie buried beneath layers of soot and rain, their inscriptions long eroded, leaving only bones that know no names. The skeletal remains—some humanoid, others unrecognizable—form tangled masses, whispering in the wind like brittle reeds
Northern Camp
This is a safe camp where you can rest and sleep, one must always keep look out incase of an ambush from other travellers.
Peaceward Barracks
A stronghold where guardians of Cragviel train to defend the city, ensuring its people live without fear.
Red Shoud
stretch of land where fog as red as fresh blood rolls thick across the steppes. It moves in unnatural ways, is something creating this unnatural fog?.
Remnants Battlefield
A place where shadows fight wars that no longer exist, phantoms locked in endless combat with no victory, no surrender, only repetition.
Rift Of Cinders
A gaping wound in the land where fire and shadow churn endlessly. Columns of smoke rise from fissures in the cracked earth, and the air is thick with burning ash. It is said that horrors born of agony prowl its depths—creatures shaped by suffering and bound to the scorched remains of those who perished in the inferno. Few venture near, for even the ground itself seems eager to consume trespassers.
Ruinspire of ages
A partially buried dwarven guardian statue, its once-golden eyes now dulled with age. Some say the runes upon its chest glow faintly when the wind howls through the spire.
Sapphire Sanctum
A temple dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge, where ancient tomes whisper forgotten secrets.
Scorching Maw
Scorching Maw is a vast, fractured chasm that cleaves the scorched earth in two, its jagged edges marked by seething fissures and simmering pools of molten rock. The land around it is unstable, shifting like a wounded beast, as tremors echo through the cracked terrain. Scalding steam billows from its depths, carrying the acrid scent of sulfur and the whispers of something long buried beneath.
Seared Relics
Scattered remnants of ancient armor and weapons, warped by centuries of intense heat.
Shattered Throne
ruined dais buried in the depths, surrounded by petrified remains frozen in gestures of agony. Some say it once belonged to a forgotten ruler who
Shroud Sanctum
A hidden tent lined with bloodstained relics and desperate prayers, where whispers of forgotten gods linger like smoke.
Shroudspire
An abandoned spire where the walls pulse as if breathing, its occupants long vanished yet something stirs within.
Silent Choir
Rows of statues depicting mourners in various states of agony, their faces worn smooth by time. At dawn and dusk, the wind through them creates an eerie, keening wail—some say the voices of the betrayed.
Silent Watchtower
A half-broken sentry post where lone guards keep vigil against the encroaching unknown.
Siren's Roost
Towering lighthouse whose glow barely cuts through the mist; some say its keepers hear voices in the wind.
Skyward Gardens
Lush terraces suspended above the cliffs, where rare bioluminescent flora thrives
Sorrowshade Shrine
A hidden shrine where surviving villagers gather to seek guidance from old spirits
Southern Camp
This is a safe place to camp for characters to sleep and rest, although somebody should be on watch incase of an ambush.
Spear Graves
A graveyard where warriors were buried standing, their rusted weapons marking their final defiance.
Sporewake Vale
Rolling fields overtaken by bulbous fungal growths, their spores thick enough to choke the air.
Statue Of Libertas
God of Liberty’s Statue stands as a colossal testament to defiance, carved directly into the mountainside. The figure is frozen mid-stride, as if breaking free from the very rock that once imprisoned it. Shattered chains dangle from its wrists and ankles, their broken links scattered at its feet. Its gaze is carved with unwavering resolve, staring toward the horizon, challenging all who would impose tyranny. Wind and rain have softened its features over time, yet its presence endures—a beacon for those who seek freedom. Pilgrims gather beneath it, whispering their hopes, knowing that to stand before it is to embrace rebellion.
Stonefallow Market
struggling trade hub where merchants barter ancient relics, salvaged metals, and whispers of lost riches hidden beneath the ruins.
Sunken Spire
Collapsed clock tower that sinks deeper each year, as if the land itself is swallowing its forgotten ruler’s legacy.
Tarnished Reliquary
forgotten vault buried beneath the plains, filled with golden treasures no tribe dares claim for fear of the curse.
The Ashen Bazaar
A massive trade hub where merchants hawk rare ores, enchanted relics, and hardy mountain provisions.
The Ashvault
Buried in the depths of Velmoria’s ruin, the Ashvault stands as a silent tomb to a forgotten age. Its towering stone walls, scorched and fractured, bear the remnants of inscriptions lost to soot and decay. The air within is thick with dust, and the ground shifts beneath wary steps, as if the vault itself is exhaling the remnants of history. Some believe something still lingers within—watching, waiting.
The Barea Barracks
A fortified stone hall lined with frostbitten banners, the Barea Barracks houses Frostspire Bastion’s elite warriors. Sparse yet efficient, it is warmed by enchanted frostfires that cast eerie blue light upon the ancient weapons adorning its walls. Long stone tables bear battle-scarred maps, while alcoves carved into the walls provide resting spaces for soldiers who know sleep is fleeting. The air hums with quiet resolve, filled with murmured strategies and the weight of duty.
The Blooded Inn
decrepit roadside tavern whose doors remain open despite the lack of patrons. Tables are set, candles burn, yet those who enter find themselves *unable* to leave until the sun rises.
The Bloodweft Stones
A collection of massive boulders, stained red with ancient rites, where the tribes renew their oaths.
The Brass Tribunal
Auremn’s courthouse, where verdicts are decided not by justice, but by wealth and influence.
The Broken Anvil Tavern
The only place still clinging to a semblance of life, its patrons drinking more in remembrance than revelry. The barkeep—a weary survivor—serves ale poured from barrels older than most living dwarves
The Broken Pantheon
Shattered monolith marking where the god of destruction first set foot, its surface cracked and bleeding raw energy into the sky.
The Crown Exchange
The heart of Auremn’s trade, where merchants broker deals over velvet-draped counters and hidden contracts.
The Durbar Ring
A fortified circle of scavenged iron and cracked stone, where firelight never dies and warriors hold council against the coming dark.
The Ebon Chapel
desecrated temple, its walls lined with golden effigies defiled by soot and blood, where cultists gather to sacrifice and swear oaths of darkness.
The Echoing Plaza
A vast plaza where voices still linger, whispered on the wind, repeating the last words spoken before the city’s fall.
The Ember Bough
A towering, ancient beacon of molten gold, its branches twisting like flames frozen in time. Legends speak of its roots burrowing into the bones of fallen gods, drawing power from the whispers of the dead. Some believe that its gilded leaves are embers of past civilizations, each holding the echoes of forgotten rulers.
The Emberward Sanctuary
Emberward Sanctuary stands as the stronghold of the Emberward, a faction bound not by coin but by duty and honor. Rising from weathered stone and ironwood beams, its fortress-like walls overlook the free cities, a constant beacon against the chaos beyond. The hall is simple but resolute—maps detailing Emberward patrols, war banners faded by time, and long tables where warriors gather not for wealth, but for purpose. Training grounds behind the bastion echo with the clash of steel, where recruits sharpen their resolve against the ever-looming threats to the cities they protect.
The Forest Of Vorrakoth
a vast and desolate expanse, where twisted, skeletal trees claw at the sky like grasping hands. Their bark is blackened, not by fire, but by the slow rot that creeps through their veins, feeding off the malice that taints the land. The air is thick with a damp, cloying mist, reeking of decay and stagnant despair. In the middle of the forest is a clearing full of bones and a huge monster.
The Fractured Bastion
A broken fortress that once stood as Mirwell’s heart. Now, it serves as the grim seat of the Thirteenth Sun, its halls echoing with chants of prophecy and ruin.
The Golden Crown
The shattered palace where Velmoria’s last rulers fell, its throne room choked by soot and silence.
The Graveyard Fleet
A sprawling expanse where shipwrecks rest half-submerged in the freezing bog. Their splintered hulls jut from the waters like grave markers, their decks still littered with rusting weaponry and the frozen remains of long-dead sailors.
The Hanging Gallow
A vessel lost to time, drifting through the black waters of Velmoria like a specter of drowned regrets. Its hull is cracked, its sails tattered, yet it moves with unnatural purpose, crewed by shadows that never sleep. Some say it hunts the restless dead; others whisper that it carries forgotten souls, seeking a port that no longer exists
The Hollow Crown Vaults
Hidden beneath the ruins, this underground labyrinth contains forgotten relics and the shattered remains of Vorrak’Thul’s royal regalia—treasures too tainted for any sane mind to wield.
The Hollow Throne
A shattered fortress at the heart of the Ashwates, its blackened spires jutting from the earth like skeletal fingers. Once a seat of power, it is now a shrine to despair, where spectral remnants of its rulers linger, locked in an eternal cycle of grief and madness. Those who approach hear the whispers of lost monarchs, promising power in exchange for servitude.
The Horde Wrath
A war fleet of massive iron-hulled ships, each adorned with the skulls of defeated foes. These vessels serve as both home and battlefield for the coastal orcs.
The Iron Compass
A renowned tavern where travelers and locals gather for hearty meals, warm company, and the latest city news.
The Nameless Ossuary
A vast burial ground where shattered headstones bear no inscriptions, as if time itself erased their identities.
The Old Castle Of Nemar
A shattered keep coated in fine, drifting ash, as though the remnants of the dead still settle upon its broken walls.
The Pit Of Emberfang the Desecrated
A scorched wasteland, wreathed in ember-choked air, stretches endlessly around him. Cracked earth bleeds molten veins, casting flickering shadows that dance upon jagged cliffs. Towering obsidian spires claw toward the sky, their surfaces slick with soot and the remnants of charred sacrifices. The stench of burning flesh mingles with the eerie hush of undead murmurs trapped within the wasteland’s cursed winds.
The Redhaven Gate
A battered palisade marking the border between refuge and ruin, guarded by those who dare call themselves protectors.
The Rift Spire
jagged tower of obsidian rising from the steppes, rumored to be the site of ancient rites where warlords bathed in the land’s blood to claim its power.
The Sable Court
A ruined court where the remnants of Mirwell’s rulers once held council. The echoes of old arguments still linger, whispering through the shattered halls.
The Scorched Divide
A vast rift carved into the land where divine and mortal forces collided, its depths still pulsing with unstable magic.
The Sepulcher Veins
Underground tunnels lined with blackened quartz that pulses with necrotic energy. Many who venture inside feel time slip away, as if the forest itself is feeding on their essence.
The Shattered Crown Plaza
A grand square now littered with fallen statues and broken obelisks. The remnants of old banners still cling to ruined pillars, their insignias barely visible beneath centuries of dust.
The Shattered Gate
A fractured arcane gate, remnants of a failed teleportation experiment, now a foreboding shrine.
The Silent Offering
stretch of forest where the ground is littered with bones, all meticulously arranged in geometric patterns. No one knows who—or what—places them there, but disturbing the designs is said to invite a dreadful fate.
The Silver Hall
A Big grand assembly house where scholars, diplomats, and artisans meet to discuss trade, philosophy, and the arts.
The Star Canopy
Deep within the ancient woodlands of Selyndra, the Star Canopy stretches across the sky like a living constellation. Towering trees, their branches entwined with shimmering strands of woven starlight, form a vast celestial dome. Luminescent moss and ethereal blossoms pulse with soft light, mirroring the shifting constellations above.
The Sunken Pit Of Agony
A crater where the ground collapsed long ago, revealing tunnels lined with crystallized sulfur and the remnants of something—perhaps once living, perhaps something worse
The Throne Hall Of Eidralis
The Throne Hall Of Eidralis is a grand chamber of power and judgment, its towering basalt pillars casting long shadows over polished obsidian floors. Golden braziers flicker at intervals, their light refracting off stormglass inlaid into the ceiling, creating an ethereal shimmer that dances over the banners of Eidralis
The Throne Of Splinters
Skeletal remnant of Vorrak’Thul’s last sovereign seat, splintered and warped from battles fought over its cursed claim. Some say it still whispers to those who dare sit upon it.
The Tidemarket
A chaotic trade hub where scavenged goods, barnacle-encrusted weapons, and dubious alchemical brews are bartered under the fluttering remnants of torn sails.
The Viel Market
A sprawling bazaar where goods range from exotic spices to whispered secrets, all for the right price.
The Wailing Stones
A cluster of towering monoliths, slick with frost and half-buried in the marsh. The wind howls through their cracks, carrying whispers that some claim belong to the fallen warriors entombed beneath the frozen mud.
The Warlords Courtyard
A massive courtyard littered with the bones of fallen rulers, each stone stained by centuries of bloodshed.
The Weeping Bog
A stretch of murky water where distant sobbing echoes through the mist, though no living soul is ever seen. Some claim the cries belong to the drowned, cursed to relive their last desperate moments in endless lament.
Tithing Grounds
A grim marketplace where food, weapons, and grim favors are exchanged under hushed negotiations. Nothing is given freely.
Trenches Spire
Half-buried ruins swallowed by black sludge, their broken towers barely jutting above the swamp’s surface. Legends claim something still stirs within—watching, waiting, and whispering to those who linger too long.
Uknown Obelisk
A lone pillar of scorched stone, riddled with cracks and ancient carvings that are nearly unreadable. It hums faintly when touched, as if remembering an old purpose.
Vaelstryn Foundry
A forge where elven artisans meld steel with enchantment to create exquisite weapons and tools.
Veilborn Baths
where nobles seek luxury and renewal, unaware that they may be slipping into the grasp of shapeshifted succubi masquerading as divine figures. The name suggests both refinement and deception, making it a perfect lure for those who mistake indulgence for enlightenment.
Vein Of Sorrows
The Vein of Sorrows pulses with an eerie glow, its crystalline walls shimmering like frozen tears. Jagged shards jut from the cavern’s depths, their brilliance tainted by the whisper of lost voices. Some crystals radiate an unnatural vitality, while others crumble into dust, as if mourning something long forgotten. To step within is to walk the line between wonder and regret.
Velmoria Cauldon
A wellspring of cursed magic, its black waters said to whisper the secrets of Velmoria’s fall.
Velmoria’s Lost Docks
Once a modest harbor where traders and wanderers sought passage across Velmoria’s murky waters, Velmoria Docks now lies in ruin—its piers warped, its boats nothing more than skeletal husks embedded in soot and cinders. The water itself reflects no light, choked with debris and whispering echoes of lost voyages. No ship has moored here in years, yet the tide still pulls at the remnants, as if longing to reclaim what remains.
Vowkeepers Rest
Ruined fortress where the last warlord of the Werlands made their final stand, their words still carved into the walls.
Wailing Dust
A stretch of land where every gust carries the voices of the fallen, their cries twisted into whispers that never truly fade.
Wardens Bastion
A bastion of law and protection where trusted defenders ensure safety for all, keeping crime and unrest at bay.
Weeping Grove
An ancient stand of twisted trees, their bark streaked with silver, said to absorb the sorrows of past generations.
Weeping Halls
Cracked murals of golden age glories, now eroded by time and grief. Their faded visages still weep streaks of dark ichor, as if mourning the fall of Vorrak’Thul itself.
Western Camp
This is a safe place to camp for characters to sleep and rest, although somebody should be on watch incase of an ambush.
Widows Lantern
single, gnarled branch at the edge of the forest that burns with cold, violet flames. Legends claim it marks the burial site of a sorceress who sought dominion over death but became enslaved by it.
Witches Flask
A tavern nestled into the cliffside, where sailors drink away their fears and recount tales of horrors lurking in the deep.
Withered Crown
A massive, skeletal tree at the forest’s heart, its roots sprawling like grasping fingers. Its hollow trunk houses cryptic carvings, remnants of those who sought refuge but found only madness.
Woven Dungeon
A sprawling tomb of interlocked bone and metal, crafted by unknown hands. The inside shifts unpredictably, rearranging itself like a puzzle of the dead’s own design.
Wraith-Trail
A shifting path where phantom hoofprints appear and vanish, leading hunters deeper into the Herd’s domain.
Wraithbinders Rest
A desolate graveyard where spectral chains coil around crumbling tombstones, keeping something imprisoned beneath.
Wretches Warth
A place where desperation fuels trade—an immense pier lined with makeshift stalls, shanty taverns, and warbands selling their services to the highest bidder. The waters around the wharf are thick with wreckage, and many of the goods sold here are scavenged from lost ships or battlefield corpse