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 | (2277, 8459) |
Underground stone chambers trap quarry slaves in perpetual dampness that breeds lung rot. Sleeping shelves are bare rock with only thin rags for warmth. Workers are hauled up daily for stone cutting, construction, and heavy labor throughout the town. The dripping ceiling creates puddles that never dry. No natural light reaches these depths, causing disorientation. Food is lowered through grates like feeding animals. The constant echo of coughs and moans amplifies the misery. Slaves return each evening to the same crushing darkness after brutal days of backbreaking work above ground.
Dimly lit by faint, eerie glow from bioluminescent fungi, the chambers are carved roughly from stone with wet, uneven floors. Dripping water forms constant puddles, and the air is thick with dampness and the stench of sickness. Narrow sleeping shelves line the walls, covered with thin, tattered rags. Rusted iron grates in the ceiling allow food to be lowered down. The oppressive atmosphere is heavy with despair and the sound of coughing slaves.