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“There are those who grow gardens in their heads, conjuring up stories when sunlight has fled,”
Timon the Galavanteer “Of Stories”
There are other places that are spoken of by Lore Keepers and adventurous traders beyond the reach of the Known Lands. Some of these places are perhaps no more than legend or have faded into distant memory with the passage of years. Your character may have heard of these places, but has never visited them, though perhaps you once met a traveller who boasted they have.
Ashain
Ashain
“And lo all of their hosts marched forth at the behest of the Midnight King. A number uncounting there was, set to storm the very vaults of the sky, if that was the royal decree. Their arms and armour gleamed golden at the edges and golden and brilliant were the eyes of their sorcerers whose robes had no pattern bar geometric designs. I had seen greater hosts.”
Partial text attributed to Hanniel of the Sun Wardens
Ashain was until recently primarily spoken of in well worn songs of ancient wars. They were claimed to be an imperialist and mighty kingdom with armies who march beneath golden banners bright as the sun. They marched to war and the stories say they clashed with many a mighty enemy at the battle of Iyaden’s Mount. Elaborate stories have formed around this battle, placing every folk hero from Aryn to Valenci there performing mythic deeds. All agree in the end though Ashain retreated bloodied but unbroken from the battlefield and now their hosts lie in wait on the edge of the known lands waiting to return.
In their Third Gathering the Awakened of the Tower ventured to Ashain and found much to be different from what they were once told. Ashain was a ruined nation, a wasteland, home to monsters and servants of a being called Dominion that sought to return Ashain to its old ways.
Recent Events
Recent Events
It has been a turbulent and exciting year for the people of Ashain, following the Arynian Gate opening to that wasteland and the choices made by the Awakened of the Tower their lands will never be the same again.
Where they might have become refugees fleeing from a broken land there is now hope. The monsters of the wastes are scattered and Dominion’s Throne lies shattered. The Grey Tree fades and withers, its long life ending but as it does it blesses the land one last time thanks to the aid of the Tower. First a trickle, then a spring and now streams of power flowing outwards. what was once blasted wasteland starts to bloom. Stagnant water starts to flow and freshen, once fearful, starving animals begin to thrive. A small number of people still leave for their own reasons, but the majority of the people stay to start to reclaim the land for themselves.
Those under the Thrall of one of the Shards of Dominion, at least those whose minds were not broken by the experience, return to their families once again. Damaged, but with a chance to heal. Others who followed willingly for their own power are either dealt with or manage to skulk off into the wilderness and disappear. No one knows for sure what happens to them, but most hope that they never return and are taken by the monsters that they sought to use.
Life is still not easy for these people. They do not have the benefit of high walls or good fields and it is a hard year. Death remains a close companion and illness threatens to force the fledgling town apart but they persevere. A new town slowly emerges, canvas giving way to more permanent structures and well laid out roads, all surrounding a shallow and placid lake that spreads from where the Grey Tree once stood. They call their new home Oasis and one of the first structures raised is the Hall of Peace. A place for debate and words rather than violence, where discussion rings a fountain carved with images of the beginning of the town. Many of the Awakened who travel there will spy familiar faces among the engraved figures that adorn it.
The Ashainites say that they want no reminders of what the Circle did in previous ages, the broken land all around is enough. What remained of Ashain is torn down, its bricks, its stones, its ruins becoming the foundation for something new and perhaps one day even grander.
For now though only limited magics are found among the peoples. Though small cabals of Ashainite Awakened exist and grow over the year the magics of the land are driven by the Grey Tree to restoration and repair. The Ashanites have rejected their legacy and inheritance and will need to begin anew from the ground up. One of the few sites of power for them is their central oasis. Children paddle and play about its shores and the sick come to drink from it. The waters restoring health and vigour, giving them a moment of respite from the hardships of their lands.
The Ashanians have rejected who they were but are still finding who they will be. It is still malleable and many of them have begun to turn outwards. Seeking friendship and allies and knowledge from other lands. Small parties of them travel to Soldia and establish relations, with some begrudgingly even being accepted as subjects by the Sovereign Rycharde. But ever their eyes turn further afield, north and west to the Pasanite hills and the Thunder Steppe beyond, east towards Ustica or north and east towards Aligona. One trait that is clear in all those who call themselves Ashainians is gratitude to the Order of the Tower. They are determined to not be a case for charity or merely a pawn in other players' games. They seek to stand with dignity alongside the Awakened of other towns one day and so send missives to the Tower.
“We are not strong like you, but we wish to be kind like you have been to us. We will attend to your people on the first night when next you gather to bring such tokens as can be gleaned from the wastes and to discuss the future of Ashain and the people of the Known Lands.”
Hrath Dain
Hrath Dain
“So Aryn came to the dark and mist-ridden land of Hrath Dain. None save the bravest chanced the roads at night but Aryn strode onwards intent on their meeting with the Masked Queen.”
The Journeys of Aryn by Timon the Gallavanteer
People say if you make the crossing of the eastern mountains you will come to the land of Hrath Dain. A dour kingdom where you only live for your death. They say barrows form the centre of every settlement and shrines to the ancestors are tended to with more care than the cribs of newborns.
Kivera Kamen
Kivera Kamen
“Not time nor season can alter me;
I am abiding, while ages flee.
The pelting hail and the drizzling rain
Have all failed to soften me!”
Timon the Galavanteer, “Speech of the Masked Queen”
A tale often told in the mines of Wyrdr, they tell of a great kingdom beneath the earth, their land overflowing with riches and gems. Some say the knockers can guide you to the kingdom and if you don’t want to be consigned to a life in Durnmire that’s where you run to instead.
Beyond Wyrdr there are also dim stories of Kivera Kamen, in fairy tales and so forth it is often featured in the stories about the folk hero Aryn and their travels. Supposedly they visit a kingdom beneath the earth when on their journey to trick an evil king.
Festia Torman, “Wyrm’s Fortress”, a sketch based on descriptions of Kivera Kamen
Nessus
Nessus
“...cross by foot all the leagues of Nessus, through trackless miles that once were empire. Four hundred shined in golden armour, the dawn reflecting...”
Fragmentary text attributed to Erevar of Soldia
Old stories speak of the multitude of wonders of ancient Nessus, the Great Bastion, the Bath House of Istrika, Namele’s Column and the Towers of Brass and Gold. But it was a long time ago, no more glorious cities of stone grace the continent, no more magical convenience and life of ease. Still there are some old remnants of this bygone time, the old roads, the walls of Keld and strange artefacts dug up by Loremasters all are ascribed to these ancient peoples.
Many are the reasons given for Nessus’ fall. Barbarian hordes, treason from within, decadent mages, trolls, the wrath of gods, hubris and ghosts are all cited stories for the ruin of this ancient time but none truly know the reason.
Festia Torman, “Clear and Golden Spires”, an illustrated sketch based on Erevar of Soldia’s descriptions of Nessus
Skotho
Skotho
“They fell upon us as the storm swirled in from the north, like spirits of frost and wind who howled as they came. In the whirling snow blood spattered the frozen grass as their axes rose and fell. I swear I saw one fall to their knees and lap at the gushing flow from Tormund's neck. I am not ashamed to say I fled. I am not ashamed that I cried. I am not ashamed that they still haunt my dreams. I am only glad I never found out what they did with the bodies.”
Account of a Roadwarden
The people of the Known Lands speak of the Skothians in hushed tones and only under the light of the sun. They sail down the coast from the north, for not even they will brave the open seas, to murder and steal and kidnap folk to take back to their homeland far to the north of Keld. The Skothians wear masks of the fearsome beasts of their folklore such as the Banbaro and Rathalos. Their raids come by sea, their chants and prayers to old gods of Ice and Stone are offered with blood from the willing or unwilling.
Festia Torman, “Frozen Settlement”, an illustrated sketch based on descriptions of Skotho
The Thunder Steppe Confederacy
The Thunder Steppe Confederacy
“The shepherd families drive out their white wooled sheep from the pens each morning, to find fresh sweet grass. But they all know not to cross the markers from one Clan to the next lest they wish to face the storms wrath as it rolls over the steppe,”
A Loremaster telling stories in Wyrdr
Far to the west lies the Thunder Steppe, a wide plain commonly struck by incredible lightning storms. Anyone who claims to have been there is regarded with some incredulity and hard facts on it is hard to come by but many stories speak of nomadic tribes united in a confederation who roam the grasslands and call thunder birds and storm maidens to protect them from the wrath of nature.
Ustica
Ustica
“The Ustican set out upon the road with back to sea and salt, and from its roaring pressed on into new territory. He strode for miles and miles, his face never had a care, instead only, a cold and flinty glare.”
Timon the Galavanteer, in his address to the Archon of Ustica
Usticans occasionally sail up the Vernean river to Aligona. Tough and stoic merchants and their guards brave the dangers of travel to trade in the marketplace, bringing silver torcs, pearls and salt to make an excellent profit. Many of these merchants are plied for stories in the shaded taverns and they speak of the great city of Ustica. From the way they tell it Ustica is one of the greatest cities of the modern world. They claim that it is ringed by a high wall atop which stand metal statues that stare out implacably across the sea. These statues watch the citizens on almost every street corner from the poorest slums where they have been used as foundations for lean tos up to the Archon's palace, decorated with many hundreds of the iron figures.
Festia Torman, “Sentinal’s Gate”, an illustrated sketch based on descriptions of Ustica
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