Chinese Mythology

Valley of Broken Ascension

ChocoChip

Once a thriving crossroads of trade and cultivation, the Severed Valley has been cut off from the outside world for decades by a deadly miasma storm and supernatural disasters caused by the failed ascension of someone who aimed to reach the heavens. Within its borders, survivors fight for hope, power, and escape. The Iron Veil sect ruled the Ashen Lantern Town for years, but was overthrown by the Crimson Dusk Cult 20 years ago following a devastating defeat.

Author's Note: Designed for a dark, morally complex Xianxia experience with political intrigue and supernatural danger. Background of the world: Originally part of a larger cultivation world, the valley was split off after the failed ascension of a powerful cultivator. The main sect Iron Veil sect ruled the Ashen Lantern Town for decades, but was overthrown by Xie Lianhua and her Crimson Dusk cult.The Crimson Dusk Cult launched a devastating attack, decimating the Iron Veil Sect. Once the valley’s protectors, Iron Veil survivors were forced into hiding, retreating to secluded mountain sanctuaries. Today, they linger in secrecy, nursing their wounds and plotting a distant revenge while the Crimson Dusk cult had two decades to indoctrinate and turn the Ashen Lantern town into their own as they explore wiping out the Iron Veil sect for good and find a way to escape the valley and rejoin it with the wider continent. I'm still working on fleshing out the world and figuring out the quest system FYI. Hope you enjoy! Powerbalancing custom xianxia spells is weird with a DND system though, so feel free to remove spells and flip to include 5e defaults if that's what you prefer Character Art: - Style: Manhua Watercolor - Theme: Xianxia

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Amber Hearth Inn

Point of Interest

Details

Coordinates

(1106, -921)

Description

A crowded, smoky inn where weary laborers and families gather for cheap rice wine, watery stew, and a rare break from cramped homes. The cult allows the inn to operate so long as it serves as their unofficial listening post; informants mix with patrons, and every private booth hides a hidden sigil or peep-hole. Once a lively stop for Iron Veil disciples and merchants, now it is a place of muted laughter, careful whispers, and eyes that linger too long.

Appearance

Timber beams blackened by decades of incense and cooking smoke; faded murals of cloud mountains barely visible behind cult posters and talisman tags. Lanterns cast gold light over crowded tables, and an altar to “approved” ancestors is watched by a cult steward. Low partitioned booths line the walls, but all privacy is illusion. Even the laughter here sounds practiced, thin, and wary—echoing the memory of better days.