The Plaguelands sit at the center of Oblivion Vale. Their appearance broke the continent. Rivers became empty cuts in the land, and lakes collapsed into cracked basins. Settlements near the edge failed first, then vanished. Within living memory, the dead zone expanded in uneven patches. New sickness cycles formed, and the winds began to follow patterns people could predict but not stop. No crown, temple, or scholar can prove what caused it.
The land is dry, dark, and exhausted. Soil breaks into powder underfoot, and ash drifts across open ground even on clear days. Dead trees mark the paths where water once flowed. Sparse growth appears, then dies in tight rings. Insects rise from pits and old drains. Some areas are unnaturally quiet, and sound carries poorly or bends in strange ways. Ruined towns sit half-buried, doors warped shut, streets erased by drift and rot.
Nothing near the Plaguelands is safe for long. Surface water is avoided, even when it looks clean. Sickness spreads through touch, cloth, and breath. Crops fail without warning. One bad insect season can wipe out a year of work. People who stay too close learn to move fast, burn often, and abandon what cannot be carried.
The edge of the Plaguelands is controlled by hard towns and watch forts. Armed crews decide who passes and who is turned back. Refugees are treated as threats as often as victims. The border exists to stop spread, not to save lives. On most days, the line holds. When it fails, whole districts are lost.
Movement near the Plaguelands follows strict timing. Winds matter. Visibility matters. Marked routes cut through ash flats and dry channels. Signals replace shouting, because sound does not always work. Travelers are searched for contamination. Clothing is burned if needed. Those who refuse are removed before they can cause harm.
The following are accepted facts of the region:
Winds that carry sickness and cling to skin and cloth
Ash falling without fire
Insects that spread blight and lock joints
Areas where sound dulls or shifts
Ruins that repeat fragments of panic and flight
These dangers justify harsh law, constant searches, and frequent destruction.
Most settlements inside the Plaguelands died fast. Others were burned by neighbors to slow the spread. Salvage still happens, because old sites hold usable material. Crews lose people often, to sickness, predators, or traps left behind. Some ruins are sealed forever, not because they are empty, but because the cost of entering them is too high.
Magic is rare and feared everywhere, but here it is blamed for everything. Any casting can be accused of causing an outbreak. Known casters are watched. Unknown ones are hunted. Faith still produces small miracles: endurance, calm deaths, clean burials. The gods do not explain themselves. This silence leaves room for fear, rumor, and purges.
The Plaguelands create their own life and draw in creatures that feed on decay and disorder. Patrols track patterns, but nothing stays gone for long. The following threats are considered constant.
Blisterscale
A high plague carrier that spreads change through toxic mist. It targets wounded places and leaves survivors whose injuries rot and grow. One sighting triggers wide lockdowns and mass burnings.
Rot Charger
A heavy beast that breaks groups by force. On impact, it bursts spore growths that blind and burn. Wind spreads the damage fast.
Pox Wolf
A pack hunter that targets hands and legs. Its bite causes wasting fever and joint lock. It follows until someone falls behind.
Blister Lord
A tunnel and yard predator that sprays burning fluid from its body. The fire sticks to cloth and armor. Attempts to harvest it usually end in mass death.
Plaguehog
A ruin scavenger that destroys supplies without killing. Its bite ruins wood and leather. Herds leave infected waste that draws worse things.
Spore-Caller
A confusion weapon. It releases fog that causes panic and false visions. Groups break apart before a fight even starts.
Brand-Bearer
An intelligent hunter that marks targets. Once marked, a victim draws every nearby plague beast. Used to kill messengers and leaders.
Crown-Carrier
A campaign-level threat. It directs swarms and raises new infected bodies after battle. Towns seal gates or abandon districts rather than face it.
Death-Bloom
A drifting predator that lures with sweet rot scent. Burn crews avoid it in open wind, because smoke spreads the lure farther.
Doppelshade
A killer that uses deception as a weapon. It copies voices and issues false orders. Patrols turn on each other before it strikes. Even fortified towns make mistakes.
The Plaguelands sit at the center of the continent’s collapse. They forced every realm to harden borders and control people through survival. Most days, the line holds. Every season, something crosses anyway. Oblivion Vale endures through force, fear, and denial. The Plaguelands exist to remind everyone that survival always costs more than expected.