TheLongSecondAgeSetting/BeyondtheWall--JakkBey
Beyond the Wall
The Realm may sit behind its great Wall, the stellae draining Essence from the Elemental poles to power their leys and towers, but as lands are brought back from the Wyld, people still expand out, looking to put distance between them and the expanding Realm and Wall. The lands reclaimed have settled into stable form, and the Threshold in the Long Second Age is wider and stranger than most suspect.
Edge River is the last great port, funneling trade from the Deep Forests. Bustling, busy, and reinforced, the city is set into the Wall itself, or rather the port itself is merged with the Wall, and the City Masters have spelled the wharves and piers to follow the river as the Wall moves ahead. Edge River is gambling that the Wall will be around for a long time, and that trade with the Realm is always going to be more attractive than war with the Scarlet Empress.
Fyllus sits like a jade pearl in the forest. Recovered as the Wyld retreated, this First Age city has been cleared of the vines that had covered her streets. The settlers who found this marvel have fought against the Wyld barbarians who inhabited the city before civilized men discovered her. Fyllus sits above many water ways, and filters the waters downstream, making the brackish waters sweet, potable, and disease free. The city itself is small, especially compared to the great colossi of the Realm. Wide and low, the city sits under a great white dome of jade, dotted with crystals to allow sunlight to pass through unabated. The dome allows breezes through, but protects against winds and storm. Few structures have been built in the city, rather converted and adapted from the existing buildings. None are more than four stories, save the Jade Palace, the seat of the Precursor.
The Precursor is said to be the first man to set foot on the streets of Fyllus after it returned to the Realm. He is rarely seen, and always masked, in white robes. He controls the city’s engineering, and the many Jade Spiders that swarm over the streets, repairing the streets, making additions to buildings and maintaining the Flow under the city to keep the farms and lands surrounding Fyllus with potable water, as well as the Dome that protects the city from attack and the elements. The Spiders also act as a police force and militia, defending the citizens from attack and from one another. Few crimes escape the notice of the Jade Spiders, and the Wyld barbarians have learned that the Spiders weapons are potent. Fyllus is destination for the Freedom Ride, as slavery is not condoned by the Precursor, and all slaves who enter the city are manumitted by decree of the Jade Palace. The Spiders enforce this ban, and the few Slave Trackers that have followed the Ride are often found petrified, soon incorporated into the walls of the nearest building.
Swamps of Despair sit to the north of Fyllus. A morass of impenetrable bogs, mires, and sinks, the very air in the Swamps is deadly. Some theorize that the Swamp is itself a byproduct of a Shadowland in its center, but thus far none have been able to confirm this theory, since few who even approach the Swamps return. The natives who live near, avoid the Swamps at all cost, and tell tales of things unclean that wander from its bogs.
Eastkeep is a bastion of the Old Realm set into the set of the Eastern jungle. Built by Outcaste Dragons, set into the jungle by powerful magics, Eastkeep is a fortress connected to the roots of the Earth by powerful Earth Dragon magics. The Keep is home to a network of Dragon Blooded, who have cast aside the trappings of the Realm, and make their own way. A freeholding, it accepts those who will swear loyalty to the Keepers, and makes its own laws, by the council of the Dragons and God Blooded who rule.
Farms dot the country outside the Keep, and it is vigorously defended by the Dragons and their host. From the depredations of Wyld Barbarians, bandits, and from ronin Dragons who seek to unseat the Keepers, and from the Fae who still walk the forests.
There is little trade with Eastkeep and the Realm, and any new mystech is quickly gobbled up by the Keepers and their agents when found. Eager to be self sufficient, they seek savants and sorcerers to bolster their Keeping. They offer fantastic pay for teachers, savants and scholars of all types, and the Eastkeep schools are the envy of their neighbors. Often the local tribes will send their children to the Keep’s school for several seasons, to solidify their ties and treaties with the Dragons of the Keep. This network of obligation keeps the Keep viable, in spite of their isolation. There have been rumblings in the Deliberative about bringing the Outcastes to heel, being another stop for the Freedom Ride. It is the Ride that supplies the Keep with much of its current mystech, as payment for giving slaves a new start. Many of the most skilled slaves that the Ride frees are bound for the Keep, to help the Keepers carve out their home in the jungles.
Kessos is another First Age city that the Wyld has regurgitated. Though not whole, and certainly not unchanged by the years lost in the Wyld. Many of the buildings show signs of the chaos of the Wyld, but much of the damage has been repaired.
Nearly six hundred years ago, when the city was first discovered, the jungles had overgrown the stone streets. Native tribes used the city as shelter, and slowly reclaimed Kessos from the jungle. The vast stone cisterns were filled with potable water, drawn from deep wells under the city, and the Old Gardens were filled with wonders from the First Age. The middens and Great Fill, garbage piles and sewage treatments of the First Age had lain fallow for a thousand years, even in the Wyld, and sprang back when cultivated, giving Kessos rich farmland.
Low buildings, long estates, and wide open spaces cleared of the encompassing trees punctuate life in Kessos. Hard work is the watchword of the Kessos life, and none of the reclamations have been with the aid of any great First Age magics. In fact, the Kessos are proud of the fact that they have found little relics of the First Age in the city. All that they have created, and reclaimed, has been at their own hands.
A simple people, the Kessos focus on keeping the jungle from their city, and to making a life that is the envy of the tribes around them. The Kessos vineyards are famous even in the Realm, and Kessos casks fetch fine prices on the Blessed Isle. The vineyards are what keep the city safe–few of the local tribes that would threaten them know anything of the vintage process, and the tribute that the Kess send to the local warlords appeases them, as well as the savants that travel among the tribes to help their neighbors with drainage and other projects. Kessos maintains peace with its neighbors through the value they bring, and all the local warlords prefer to accept tribute for peace, than risk going to war and destroying the balance that Kessos has created.
What amazes most in the Realm, is that Kessos is so calm. And successful, without a population of slaves. Kessos has no slavery, though bonded labor is sometimes accepted in situations of debt, but it is rare. The Kess maintain a warm relationship with the Guild to ship their wines to the Realm and further, and has yet to manumit slaves on its soil, but most Kess find the idea of slavery distasteful at best.
Pallas sits close to the Inland Sea. A minute city in the face of the great Jungle, Pallas survives as a way point for the rest of the East. North of the Inland Sea, it is situated as a hub for trade, and more importantly, it is the lifeblood for Fae’s Keep to the West. The nobles who sit in the Keep have made treaties with the Mentors who rule the city, and their tribute keeps the city safe.
Few make any bones about their relationship with the Fae. Pallas survives because its Mentors all have ties to the Fae. Treaties and bans are kept stringently, and while the lands around Pallas are crawling with reavers and worse, the lands around Pallas are calm and safe. Some even say that the Fae walk openly on the streets, and deal with merchants. To be Fae touched is considered a boon in the city, and many of the Mentors bear the signs.
Fae’s Keep sits in the middle of the East like a crystal spider. It’s wide net of walls, embankments, and defenses all are woven to protect one of the last redoubts of the Fae in the Creation. The Fae gather here to protect their lands further East, and its pickets extend to the South to protect the One Way to Fae Reeve. Powerful magics have been woven into the woods and jungles to misdirect, confuse and disorient any who travel these Eastern woods, and there is but one road that leads safely to Fae Reeve, and Fae’s Keep is the start of that path.
The Keep is a stronghold of powerful Fae nobility, and is a rallying point for Fae fleeing the advance of the Wall. Few mortals have survived long enough to report much about the Keep, save that it is difficult to find, and once there, it is harder to leave. During a few celebrations, the Fae allow visitors, but in this place, they are as powerful as they have ever been, and few of the Realm’s best have even considered attacking the place.
The Inland Sea is the largest body of fresh water ever seen. Miles wide, and as deep, the Sea is rich in fish, wild game abounds around it, and villages dot the shores of the Sea. No city has yet to be founded on the shores, because a powerful Lunar watches over the Sea, and has forbidden it. Any who seek to organize, or build a settlement too large, disappear. Be it a Guild member who seeks to build a larger camp, to a village that expands a hair too much, they disappear. All of them, cooking fires still burning, baths drawn. Without a trace.
Luvan, is congenial, assisting fishermen who get lost, returning herds that wander, and keeping the most dangerous of the Inland Sea’s predators from those who ply the Sea’s currents, but she is implacable on the issue of too much civilization on her shores. For this reason, fishermen send their goods to Pallas or down river. Luvan’s Decree is enforced as far as the Three Sisters–Hulan, Jiffa, and Bellas–the lakes that collect near the sea, not as large, nor as rich, but these lake lands support rich lands to farm, so long as the settlers do not grow too large. Luvan does not support Beastmen cults nor does she take tribute from the settlers, but maintains her control over the region with an implacable hand.
Wares lies upriver of the Inland Sea, miles from the Wall, and with miles of wild country behind it leading to the Devil’s Backbone. It is situated perfectly to be the premiere trading post for the south east. Villages and communities throughout the south east come to Wares to trade, and the Guild maintains the city itself. Wares is a Guild Freehold, and only Guild members hold office. The police are paid out of Guild coffers, and all the laws are made by the Guild, and there is no apology for this arrangement. Caravans and flights to and from Wares distribute goods throughout the south east, and even back to Exos, and even Foulkeep.
Freewheeling and boisterous, Wares is a city that never sleeps. Caravans load and drop off goods around the clock, goods are received and shipped to the Inland Sea, and skyships tether and land night and day. To the barbarians and raiders of the East, it makes Wares a tempting target, and the Guild pays mercenaries good wages to watch over their jewel, and the caravans that come and go.
Exos is a border town that has merged with The Gate of South East Declining, and much like Edge River, moves with the Wall as it advances. Exos is the last chance to trade before heading out into the Threshold. It’s markets are rich, and the city is rife with possibility. The Guild’s presence is high, and many of the town’s leaders are merchant princes who have retired to the country life, yet cannot be away from the hum and pulse of trade. The Legion that is stationed to protect the city from raiders and to escort the caravans in is experienced and quick to pounce on an excuse to take action.
Sprawling and wide, Exos resembles more a vast encampment than a city, proper. As the Wall has moved on, Exos has moved with it, so structures are only used for a few years, and then abandoned. This has left a swath of warehouses and counting houses to be turned into living quarters or shops, even housing for the many who come to Exos looking for quick obols. For every success story in Exos, there are those who find themselves with the slave tattoo, sold back to the Realm, or even to Thresholders, to pay for their debt.
The Forest of Fangs is perhaps the last real stronghold of the Lunars. This vast land is the home to wild tribes, barbarians, and powerful beast lords. Few walk into the Forest of Fangs return. A few hunters dare to tread the lands, and fewer return.
Fae Reeve is the homeland of the Fae now. Their last bastion, their last real home. The lands of Fae Reeve are vast, insulation against the Reality Towers that hem them in. Raiding parties from the Reeve spread out, seeking prey constantly. Savants and artists are often stolen from their villages to be brought to the Reeve to serve the Fae. Commoners and nobles both flock to the Reeve, bringing tribute to the powerful lords who maintain their stronghold.
Foulkeep to the south east, lies just outside the Wall, a former stronghold for barbarians and raiders. The Legions cleared out the brigands, and now use the keep as a strong point to guard the pass to the gates. It is seen by many as a punishment detail, deep in the heart of the fouler regions of the Threshold. To the south is the Wasting, to the east, the Devil’s Backbone. Few traders venture out, though the occasional skysail comes in from Wares. As a garrison, Foulkeep is thankless, dangerous, and with little cheer.
The only bright point to break the tedium of the detail is escorting Guild caravans from the Devil’s Backbone, laden with jade and ore. This is a break, because raiders and bandits find these caravans irresistible, and it is a sure ticket to a good fight. It is also a good way to get dry gulched by an officer on the take with a rival merchant, bandit chief, or who has decided to strike out on her own. Corruption in the Keep’s forces is at all time high, and the last Magistrate sent to deal with the problem disappeared without a trace...
The Devil’s Backbone is a stretch of switchbacks, razor peaks, and spillway scree that can lead to blind valleys, box canyons, and crumbling cliff. It is nearly impassable, and inhabited by a odd breed of treasure seeker. The Backbone is rich with gold and jade, and some say orichalcum, but getting to these veins means braving the hazards of the Backbone, and the things that make their living in the gullies, cliffs, and outcrops. Wild beasts, Beastmen, Lunars who patrol from the Forest of Fangs, and worse. Things even the Lunars are nervous about dwell in the Backbone, and even the dead are wary to wander the hills alone.
Prospectors ply the Backbone with care, often in groups, but many disappear into the rocks and are never seen again–victim to the Backbone itself, its denizen, or the greed of their partners. It’s a hard area, filled with men who are harder. There are tales of those who strike it rich, but few of those who get to keep their claims. The Guild maintains several stations outside the Backbone to cart back the gold and more, and its these caravans that the Foulkeep’s garrison is charged to bring in safe and sound. Even still, getting ore and jade back to the Realm is a risky venture, beyond the raiders, as the Keep’s forces are notoriously corrupt. The jade eventually gets back to the markets to the Realm, and that is all the Dragons care about, so little is done about the conditions in the Backbone.
Fool’s Rush is imbedded into the Wall, a permanent garrison to warn off those who would wander into the Wasting. The hindmost end of the Realm, Fool’s Rush is the worst detail a Legionnaire can pull. No bandits harry, no caravans pull in, no skyships settle in, Fool’s Rush sits on the middle of the Wasting, protected by the Wall, the only safe way to travel to the garrison is by rail. Once there, the Legions watch the Wastes to be sure that nothing from the Wastes tries to cross into the Realm. The portion of the Wastes that is inside the Wall has been tamed, merely empty and devoid of life, but outside the Wall, whatever sucks the life from the land is in full force. Boredom and fear are the bread of the Legionnaires stuck in Fool’s Rush. Their only break are the few expeditions mounted by the bravest or most reckless. The garrison watches these fools disappear into the Wastes, never to return.
The Wasting is the desert that stretches from the Gap’s Teeth to the base of the last volcanic ridge before the Edge, only miles from the Reality Tower of Fiery Fury. A vast, greyish drift of sands worn from the basalt and obsidian. The Wasting supports no life, the only things that move in the drifts and runnels are Hungry Ghosts, wandering constructs that have been lost over the years, and Demons loosed by the dark cults that use the desert to perform their dark rituals.
No tribes make their homes in the Wasting. No animals are found native, only the dead and lost Golems. Demons stalk the desert, and whisper in the wind. Even the ever present raiding tribes leave the Wasting alone. It is said that the desert sucks the life of those who step onto its grey sands. That may be true, as there is no scrub brush, no watering holes, nothing remotely hospitable to life. Some have theorized the Wasting is a proto-Shadowland in the making, slowly shifting to the Deadlands as a region. If so, no one yet, has explained how the Wasting has managed to slow its transition to the Deadlands for so long, or why. Rumors persist that the Wasting is not a reflection of Deadlands at all, but the result of some greater Spirit who has decided to render the area inert. The calcified remains of those lost in the deep desert are testaments to the power that wanders the Wasting, slowly dissolving to greyish sand. From time to time, the remains of even Constructs are found, petrified and decaying to loose, greying sand.
Good Water is an oasis in the fiery South. On the shores of Lake Silver, the community is a refuge for those who tire of wandering. Nestled behind the Fire Mountains, the Valley of Good Waters is wide, open, with rich forests and open grasslands. The settlers here have come from far off, to disappear into this shaded vale, accessible through a narrow pass to the north. The sea route is hazardous for landfall. The bay itself is safe and secluded, but razor sharp rocks and currents make the approach difficult by sea, and the winds that whip across the mountains make air travel difficult at best. The lack of roads in this uncivilized land makes even caravan travel inconvenient. Once past all the hazards and mires that the grasslands offer, the Valley of Good Water opens into beautiful rolling hills, pleasant forests, and gentle streams and rivers.
It is in this Valley, that many of the Freedom Rides end. Slaves freed and smuggled out of the Realm, often are taken to the Valley of Good Waters, because it is difficult to get to, and harder to get out of. The settlements are closely connected, the people friendly and open, and most will close off the pass and rain rocks and fire onto invaders at a moment’s notice. Slave trackers tend to disappear when they roll into the Valley, lulled by the gentle beauty of the place.
The city of Good Waters is self sufficient, farms and orchards provide well for the citizens, and the fishing is fine from the Bay of Hope, Silver Lake, and along the rivers as well. Escaped savants have made the city liveable. While the Waters doesn’t have the mystech base to call on that the Realm has, they maintain the cast offs they have acquired over the years well enough, and good relations with their neighbors, the Water People keep the community in good stead.
The Water People are a tribe of great apes, who travel the forests of Valley, taking what they need from the trees and moving on. They have watched the settlement of their lands with keen interest, but generally stay away from the steadings and farms. Their neighbors leave offerings of food and drink to the Water People, and leave their paths untouched and should the Water People move into an area adjacent to a steading, often the settlers will pick up, or move on, or pause in their cultivation until the Water People continue on their way. The apes make a pilgrimage each year to Silver Lake, and it is there that they choose mates and choose leaders. The Moot occurs in the fall, and most of the citizens of Good Waters and the surrounding settlements consider seeing a pack of the Water People heading there a sign of good luck, but all of the settlers avoid disturbing the Water People’s rites. Most settlers consider the Water People to be their neighbors and guardians, and give the big apes their privacy. Thus far, the arrangement has worked well, because the Valley remains secluded and protected. Legend has it, that if the Moot is disturbed, or the Water People are harmed, the Valley will lose the protection of the Good Waters, and the vale will be open to depredation. The freed slaves who populate this refuge protect the Water People fiercely, and hunters that sometimes wander in from the north or find their way from the Fire Islands often simply disappear. The Valley has an ill reputation in the Fire Islands for this reason, and the Water People are seen as a myth to scare children among those fierce warriors.
The city of Good Waters is small compared to most Second Age cities. It is low, sprawling, and has none of the ostentation of Realm. Most buildings are under four stories, and even the Mayor’s home is much like the others around it. The Holdings around Good Water are where the richest, and oldest families live. The Mayor is voted in every few years, from the most prominent citizens of the time, and serves until there is a general consensus that it is time to step down and give someone else a try. Consensus drives the community, and while most of the holders and steaders are concerned more about their crops and distilleries–the area has a long standing vinery and brewing tradition–the community is made of hard gossips, and busy bodies who watch each other closely, and little escapes their notice.
While violent crime is rare, when it occurs, the community moves quickly to rectify the situation. Placid on the surface, the waters of Lake Silver are deep, and many of those who break the laws in this sleepy Vale, disappear under those waters never to be seen again.
The Fire Islands are a massive archipelago of volcanic islands. Many are uninhabitable, masses of sharp rocks and boiling lava, there are hundreds of islands where life has found purchase. These islands are hard places, farming is difficult, and most of the settlers rely on fishing and raiding. The hundreds of bays and cays provide pirates with sufficient hiding places to make the area attractive to anchor down to. The water routes through the islands are difficult to navigate, and are rife with hidden hazards. Raiding parties sail forth to harass the Spice Islands and Pirate’s Reach, to raid for slaves, for food, and for goods. While traditions vary from village to village, the Fire Islands are united as a warrior people, and none of the tribes shy away from pirating their neighbors, and many of the tribes cannibalize their victims as well.
Pirate’s Reach is the name given to the unlucky settlements south of the Good Water, those who weren’t lucky enough to find the pass, or navigate the reefs and rocks. The Reach has fine farming, pleasant temperature, good fishing, and a few rich mines. They are also a stones throw from the Fire Islands, and are subject to raids from those pirates. While most settlements defend themselves, they are constantly harassed. The communities are insular, heavily defended, and distrustful of strangers. With the pirates to the north, and the inhospitable mountains and deserts to the south, this green strip of earth is one of the last stretches of habitable land, and those who find themselves in the Reach are often there because the alternative was worse. Most of the Reachers are escaped slaves or criminals who have fled the Realm, and civilization to find some respite. The hard life of the Reach seems to suit many, and while constant attacks from the Fire Islands harry them, the Reachers are an independent and hardy lot.
The Spice Islands are rich volcanic islands. Exporting many fine spices, herbs, and fruits, the islands are solid trading partner to the Realm. The outermost of the Islands, is only a stone’s throw from the Wall, and most of the Islanders are looking forward to the full protection of the Realm. The Dragons already patrol the Spice waters, giving their protection to the Islands against the Fire Island raiders, and ships and skysails regularly leave the Islands with heavy loads to take back to the Realm.
One aspect of having regular trade with the Realm, especially with the raid patrols, is that the Spice Islands are one of the few Threshold communities to embrace slavery. Fire Island captives are regularly sold to Island farms and work houses, a fitting end to most of the population’s mind. While the Spice Islands don’t import slaves from the Realm, they do take in slaves captured by the Dragons in their patrols of the area. This situation is only exacerbated by the raids from the Fire Islands on shipping, and Fire Islands can almost be seen as being at war with their richer neighbors. Nothing so cohesive could be claimed by the scattered tribes of the Fire Islands, but the tribes there never pass up a chance to raid the Spice Islands, nor to carry off captives for sacrifice or the stew pot. The harsh Fire Islands rarely give the raiders the chance to enslave captives, it costs too much to feed slaves, but captives can be used as rations for their pirating machine.
The Archipelago of the Lost Tribes is a vast stretch of islands that rise out of the West. Thousands of islands, reefs, and rocks make passage among the Archipelago hazardous, as do the natives. Surrounding the largest islands are barriers, transparent shimmers, that have yet to be breached by the mystech of the Realm. Inside the barriers are fantastic beasts and odd people, and in the distance, what appears to be civilization. Communication beyond the barrier is ignored by those beyond the barrier, and if ships approach the barrier, those on the others side leave quickly.
The islands that do not have a barrier are populated, and most denizens are Wyld Touched. When the Archipelago disappeared after the Wyld surged, the islands were lost to the Creation. The Archipelago returned, and when it did, the islands were brought back, more or less intact. Those who survived in the Wyld on the islands were shielded by powerful magics that protected their islands. Over the years, the smaller islands’ defenses waned, but the largest and most powerful remain intact. Since returning to the Creation, those islands have watched and wait. The rest of the islands are populated by tribes and peoples that have not seen the Creation since the First Age.
Slavers are keen to raid the islands, but are often stymied by the difficulty of navigation. Many of the tribes are exotic, some even mythic. Mixtures of animals and men, people made of the Five Elements, odder mixes. Though many resemble Fae, they are indeed mortals, often touched by the Wyld. Their civilization is an odd mixture of First Age customs, and those of the Long Second Age. None of the islands maintain much contact with the outside world, fearing the contact will pollute them. When ships pull into anchorage, the natives flee, fearing slavers or worse. Those under their barriers care little for the outside world.
While it has been theorized that the islands may be connected in some way, but this has yet to be proven. Many expeditions have been sent into the islands, but few have returned. The few that have come back tell tales of wild tribes, beasts, and temples that glow from within, tended by odd beasts and men the Creation has not seen since the First Age.
Land’s End is the last habitation in the Creation to the West. North of the Archipelago of Lost Tribes, the isle of Caprice is only slightly smaller than the Blessed Isle. Open grasslands, rich forests, and rolling hills, the island is inviting. It has a native population of Outcaste Dragons, the ill favored children of the Archipelago of Lost Tribes, and others who have fled everything.
The island is rich, dotted with villages, cris crossed with simple roads, and appears placid and quiet. The few ships that pass are raiders that plunder the Beast Islands, and Land’s End is a peaceful harbor to take on supplies, and rest. Those pirates and slavers that think of Caprice as easy pickings are taught the error of their ways.
While Caprice is a peaceful place, and there is a placid population of mortals who live out their days in the simple life, they often live shoulder to shoulder with the most wanted and dangerous Outcastes from the Realm, escaped slaves, and pirates and cutthroats who have tired of the life on the run. These hard cases over the years have brought in an impressive arsenal, and the militia is the equal to anything found in Lookshy. The strange tribes that have fled the Lost Tribes have found purchase and acceptance on Caprice, and protect their home fiercely.
The city of Land’s End itself is small compared to other Second Age cities. The harbor is open and inviting, the shipyards are busy, turning out fishing boats, and repairing the visiting ships from the Beast Island raiders. As of late, the larger factory ships of the Realm have taken to making a stop to use the facilities on the end of the first leg of their runs, and the increased Realm presence has kept the Outcastes on alert. Relations are thus far peaceful, but both sides are wary and watchful. The crews are happy enough to have liberty and leave after the Middle Ocean, but their captains and officers are cautious.
The Beast Islands are the remains of the Great Beast Lands, broken apart by the Primordials in their war. The Court of the Great Beasts has been encompassed by the Wall, to the south, but the bulk of the islands still lie outside the Realm.
The islands are large. Each is home to a wide variety of animals. While many of the beasts are simple, interspersed among the population are the last of the Great Beasts. The Primordials’ first designs, these intelligent, and savage creatures live out their days hunting or grazing, with their charges. Their offspring are much more intelligent than normal animals, and given their long tenure, it is not uncommon for animals to speak.
This has made the islands a draw for poachers, and Dragon Blooded hunters from across the Creation to test their skills, as well as merchants who seek to harvest these rare beasts to sell in the bazaars of the Realm. The Great Beasts fight a constant war with the poachers, and any men who walk these islands are seen as trespassers, which has made things problematic for the few savants and scholars who seek to study the islands.
Dragons’ Reach is the only habitation of note in the Beast Islands. A city from the First Age, crafted by the great Dragons. While the Dragon Kings had Rathess to the south-east, the Behemoths known as Dragons settled far from the center of the Creation. Far from the sight of men, the Dragons raised their city.
The great Dragons have faded in glory. After the Wyld surged back, Dragon’s Reach was engulfed, and now that it has been returned to the Creation, few of the Great Dragons returned. Many believe that the Dragons fled into the Wyld, having enough of the Creation. Some believe they were destroyed by the Wyld, and others simply wonder what lies in the city of the greatest of the Beasts.
Tales of the Reach have filtered back to the Realm of the great halls built by the Dragons, ripped from the earth by their magics, and stories of Dragons flying in and out of the rises, preying on the denizens of the Beast Islands. Maps abound, sold in Nexus and Blue Haven, but few return with the scantest hint of treasure, if they return at all. The Dragons have put in appearances at the Court of Great Beasts, and observers have seen them fly to the West, and this is the best corroboration of the existence of the Reach. Most agree that the plethora of stories of the Reach means there is indeed some structure that the Dragons inhabit, but most also agree that to try to scale the walls is the quickest way to see the inside of a Dragon’s gullet.
Farhome is carved into the ice and rock of the Great Shelf. Carved deep into the face of the Shelf, Farhome looks out glaring White Wastes. Deep in the vaults of the city, there are vast caverns, topped with ice sheets that lens sunlight deep into the earth, and here great farms are worked, a green oasis on the edge of the glacier sheets of the White Wastes. Nestled deep in face of the Shelf, those who have found Farhome are safe and warm, looking into the face of the death lands of the White Wastes.
The tribes that dot the Threshold see Farhome as the last bastion of civilization before the Wastes, a trading post and shelter from the Long Nights. While many of the tribes will raid one another, and even the caravans that come and go from Farhome,, few will bring violence into Farhome. Most have come to rely on the trading post, and many come to Farhome for the winter, camping at the base of the Shelf, and eventually coming inside during the depths of the Long Nights.
Farhome was found by Outcaste wanderers, and settled by several tribes. The city is large, many more rooms, warrens and chambers than the current population can occupy. Warmed by vents deep in the city to geothermal springs and spills, and cunningly preserved by relics of the First Age that allow sunlight to collect in the deep chambers, far from the wind and cold, the city produces fresh produce around the year. During the Long Nights, starlight is collected into weak illumination that allows spare harvests even in the heart of northern winter.
There are vast caverns, deep in the warrens, that connect with cave complexes under the ice, home to Fae fleeing the Wall. They have compacts with Farhome, and leave the population alone, in return for tribute, a night of Lost Dreams. Each building in Farhome has a Mirror of Dreams, and on one night a week, the Mirrors are placed at the head of the beds of every man, woman, and child, and the city gives their dreams to the Fae to sustain them.
The Beastmen who wander the White Wastes often try to raid Farhome, attacking caravans and hunters, but they have thus far been unable to scale the Shelf in numbers that would allow them to breach the walls. There has been talk lately of some force in the Wastes that is uniting the Beastmen, and their attacks have become coordinated and deadlier. Farhome is raising its militia, calling in favors from the tribes they shelter during the Long Nights, but whatever is organizing the Beastmen remains hidden.
Icekeep was found by a patrol of Dragon Blooded soldiers, searching out bandit raiders. Indeed, the bandits had holed up in a cavern, that turned out to be connected to a network of passages. Following the passages, the mercenaries, discovered a lost vale, that led to a glassine fortress, glassteel walls and redoubts, seemingly carved from the very ice. The vale itself is not rich, but does link to a wide passage, that leads to rich farmlands to the east.
The Keep is thought to have been a stronghold, built to protect the Manse that is housed under the icy fortress. The central chamber is still locked, after years of occupation, and even the Dragons who occupy this fortress have no idea what treasures they sit upon, but they are trying to decode the lock on the Chamber.
Icekeep has become a rallying point for Outcast Dragons to the north. The vale is hard to work, given the Long Nights of the north, but the Keep is self sufficient. The Icekeep Companies make their living as mercenaries hired out to the northern tribes, or caravans that travel the wide open sheets of northern ice. Icekeep’s masters are paying high prices for savants and scholars.
The Great White Wastes lie to the north, a vast sheet of blinding white ice. Polished by years of wind and fierce sun, the Wastes can blind in minutes. Travel across the Wastes is considered suicide by even the tribes that dot the borders of this ice field. The few Beastmen that rise from the Wastes to raid outlying settlements are wild, savage creatures, without mercy, and mad with rage at anything that moves. Most resembles great bears and wolves, binding their eyes against the glare. All the outlying tribes agree that the Beastmen must have some base camp, but none have traveled the Wastes enough to find it.
The Wastes do hide a vast Shadowland. Spirits tell tales of a deep cut that shelters a lost city from the sun, and during the Long Nights, the things that scuttle in that darkness wander out. Others tell tales of glassine cities that sit on the ice, facing the rising and setting sun, of alien architecture, odd Spirits from the Outside roaming near, feeding on a well of Essence that rises from the city, a blister on the face of the Creation.
Tales of the Wastes abound, and the only truth is can be gleaned is that those who travel the Wastes rarely come back, and that Beastmen ride forth on great wolves and bears to raid. Spirits are loath to scout the Wastes, even Bound by oath, they will seek to avoid entering the Wastes.
