1000 rooms · levels 16–50
This room looks rather austere, devoid of much in the way of decoration and comfort. Most of the room is made up of white marble, with columns of black marble dotted around the room. Panoramas of various racial hometowns are on each of the four walls, so real that one could almost walk into one if one had that much belief in that sort of thing.
This is a small, but comfortable lounge-like room nestled above Dalamar's main greeting room. Unlike the austere room down the small set of rickety steps in the corner, this room is well furnished. A plush carpet, the shade of a deep velvet, covers most of the floor, save before the fireplace where the pure white of a polar bear rug lies, and the middle of the room where a black beanbag sits. Wondrous artwork covers the walls, depicting all sorts of calming scenes. This room is obviously designed for comfort and tranquillity by its user, and anyone else he intends to invite here.
This is the northwest edge of Llyrath Forest. Few people have the courage to make it this far, let alone enter the interior. To the west lies the Western Corwell Road and its continuation to the north. The south, the forest continues, beckoning all travellers closer.
The trees here make up the northern edge of Llyrath Forest. To the north lie the fine outlines of the Corwell Road. From within the forest around come faint voices. The south offers a dangerous path, but the only one into the woods as the east and west are untraversable.
The forest here lies on the northern fringe of Llyrath. In sight to the north is the Corwell Road. To the south is thick and dark vegetation, but that is the only passable route into the woods, for the forest is too thick to cross to the east and west.
The treeline here indicates part of the northern borders of Llyrath Wood. The forest seems to have a vibrancy and life of its own. The trees to the south almost seem to move as if they were clearing a path. Beyond the trees northward lies the Corwell Road.
This is the northern border of Llyrath Forest. To the south are large trees and thick underbrush, and the feeling in the air is downright creepy. To the north is the well travelled thoroughfare of the Corwell Road. To the east, the trees seem to clump together in an attempt to bar passage.
This is part of the northern edge of the forest. To the north are the faint outlines of the Corwell Road, while to the south the walls of trees and other underbrush thickens noticeably. Trees bar any passage to the east, while a clearing appears to lie to the west.
This is part of the northern edge of Llyrath Forest. To the north are the outlines of the Corwell Road. Southward is an eerie, gloomy path into the woods. To the east appears to be a village, but passage both that way and to the west is impossible due to the terrain.
This is a village full of huts. The villagers go about their daily chores, noticing little of the world around them. At the center of the village is a large meeting square. While looking in at it, the area seems to become quite silent. With the exception of some rustling leaves, there is not a sound to be heard.
This is the northeastern corner of Llyrath Forest. The trees seem to have a life of their own, and their movement reflects that. To the north are the fine outlines of Corwell Road. A village can be heard off in the distance to the west. To the east, a trail continues, while the southern path seems to be impassable.
This is a dark section of the Llyrath Wood. The trees seem to absorb the sounds of the forest, as the area falls deathly silent. To the north lies the Corwell Road, beyond the trees and a short distance off. A forest trail here leads to the east, west, and south.
This is part of the western borders of Llyrath Wood. An undeathly silence seems to emanate from the forest, working as an effective deterrent to travellers. The forest continues to the north, south, and west, while grazing lands of Western Corwell lie beyond the treeline.
This area of the woods seems to be far closer to Llyrath Forest than any section previously traversed. A soft breeze rustles through the treetops, but that seems to be the only sign of change here. The other forest sounds do not change in their volume, as if the approach of an intruder alerts them to stop moving.
This place appears to be a hill with giant-sized stairs carved out of it. The ground shows signs of passage of large creatures, as enormous footprints dominate the ground. The hill slopes upwards towards the north, and downwards to the east.
This appears to be the middle of a large hill. A path runs up it, almost resembling a monstrous staircase, but the stairs seem to have been made for creatures far larger than humans or even half-giants. The hill rises towards the west and falls sharply to the east. To the north appears to be a cliff edge, and southwards seems to be the hillside that this path runs upwards. Far above you seems to be a dwelling of some sort.
Here are a number of winding hills. Huge footprints dominate the path that runs across the ground here, the path leading upwards to the west. Whomever made the footprints must be at least fifteen feet tall. Hopefully, they're friendly... if not, they could be having adventurer stew by tomorrow.
Surrounding the area here are looming and ominous-looking trees. The vegetation around thickens towards the south. The west seems to be overgrown by vines and thorn bushes, while to the east appears to be a number of trees huddled into a wall-like formation.
Between large clumps of tangled shrubbery lies a small and open clearing. A circle of stones is arranged around a small firepit, which shows signs of regular use. Of course, that means this is a place of dwelling, but who would be psycho enough to live here, under these conditions? A ring of trees seems to surround this place, and there are some blue-glowing symbols carved into them. It seems strange that this area of the woods has its own environment, as even the rain cannot get through the leaves above. Thinking about this, it seems logical to leave before the owner gets back, if he or she isn't already watching you.
This seems to be a well-travelled section of the woods. For one, there is a noticeable absence of underbrush that makes travel so difficult elsewhere. There is a mumbling noise coming from the north, and a path leads in that direction. Finally, it seems that there is no trouble in going any direction that you please. It almost makes one think that one is no longer in Llyrath, but the eerie feelings one picks up from the environment dispel that thought rather quickly.
This is far deeper into the woods than most sane people would ever travel. The trees surrounding this place seem to whisper warnings and offer travellers final chances to leave before dire retribution strikes. Leaves cover the ground, and they are scattered and trampled by many hundreds of footprints. It is enough to make one wonder just who does live here. The forest seems to have a thousand eyes... mayhaps some are staring down into this location at this very moment. There is but one exit, that being the direction from which all may enter here. There is no sign of any other exits.
This appears to be part of the eastern edge of the Llyrath Forest, and with that comes the wondrous sights of the Trackless Sea and the Straits of Aldi. Waves crash upon cliffs on which the forest sits, and the ground quakes every so often from the effect. A trail leads north, west, and south from here.
This seems to be the western edge of Llyrath Forest. Few people ever find the courage to come this far, let alone proceed into the interior of these trees. Rumors exist of trees uprooting themselves to patrol the woods and drive out all intruders. The forest itself continues to the north and east, while the southern route seems impenetrable. To the west lie the grain fields of southwest Corwell.
This is near the heart of Llyrath Forest. The movement of trees around this spot seems to be everywhere, it's just those immediately around that seem to be standing still like normal trees. A strange howl reverberates across the gloomy forest. The trail here runs to the east and west.
The trail here winds its way through the forest of Llyrath. The feeling of imminent danger seems to hang in the air, and voices can be heard nearby speaking in some unknown language. The trail winds north and south, rising to the south and descending a long distance to the north.
All around sprawls a gigantic fortress. The huts within seem to have been built for giants. At the center of this area seems to be an overly decorated hut, the sign of a chieftain. Gruff voices ride the wind, and it's obvious that someone else is here....
The brush swings back as the secret entrance to this area is no longer occupied. Other than the northern exit, large thorn bushes surround this place. To the north, the terrain rises in a steep hill, of which you are currently at the bottom of.
The trail here is surrounded by large trees that seem to move to surround everyone here. Traces of mystic energy pervade the air. The ground seems covered in leaves and mayhaps expired druidic spell components. To the north, the bushes and shrubs thin, while the trail winds east. Other routes are impassable.
This part of the forest seems to have been left entirely alone by the woods around it. A smoldering firepit, quite dead so to speak, sits in the center of a circular depression in the center of this clearing. The place has an air of peace. Hopefully, its owner is peaceful should he find any interlopers in the area. The forest runs to the west, south, and east.
This seems to be the center of Llyrath Forest. A small breeze wafts through the area, but dies quickly, as if the presence of others offends it. The trees surrounding this place are damaged, whether it is from the weather or from combat... probably combat, since the marks look like those made by a sword or dagger. A low humming reverberates from the trees around, and the forest continues in all directions.
This seems to be a grove of ancient trees. Each tree towers at least one hundred feet off the ground. Rustling comes from the woods around, bringing with it the idea that druids are about, caring for their homes. Silence falls at a glance, however. The trees seem to be warm to the touch, almost as if they were alive. It might not be a bad idea to worry about it elsewhere, as they might be hostile. The forest thins to the north, and passage is possible to the east and west, but the southern direction is firmly blocked.
This appears to be the eastern borders of the Llyrath Forest. Further east are the endless waters of the Trackless Sea. The sound of waves pounding against the rocks seems to drown out any noise from the woods. The trail here continues to the north, west, and south.
The trees wave in the wind as a salty breeze sweeps in from the Trackless Sea to the south. The edge of Llyrath sure doesn't seem to be as bad as the insides are, but the gloom and fog and evil sounding noises still make the unwary outsider cower in fear. A trail starts here, branching to the north and east.
This seems to be the southwest edge of Llyrath Forest. A steep rockface drops away into the Trackless Sea, which extends out of sight to the south. An east-west trail runs here, with a fork leading into the woods to the north.
The trail here has many depressions in it that make travel difficult at best. The depressions themselves are oblong in shape and regularly spaced, an ominous thought if there ever was one. Through the trees to the east appears to be the outlines of a large gate, while the path turns to the north and drops down a hill.
This seems to be the front entrance of a large fortress. The huge gate in front of said fortress is decorated with strange symbols. Large trees surround the area, as if to hide the entrance from outsiders. The gate seems to have been carelessly left a slight bit ajar. The inhabitants must either be careless and stupid, confident in their ability to defend it, or confident that vegetation will hide the fortress well enough to keep it safe.
This overgrown trail runs between a number of ominous looking trees, each of these trees over thirty feet tall. In the distance you hear sounds of grunting. The vegetation seems to be thinning out, however, as if someone or something has purposely cleared it.
This section of the forest seems to have vegetation that is unlike any plants in other parts of the woods. The sounds of animals scurrying about also seems foreign to this place. The trees seem to move to form new paths at each step. It appears that anyone here will be tricked by Llyrath Forest into becoming hopelessly lost.
Darkness falls here, as the sun is unable to penetrate the thick canopies of leaves overhead. The trees here form a perfect circle around a primitive stone altar. It's made of marble, and shows few signs of use. Strange marks are carved into the side of the altar, but they are in no language ever seen on Toril. Looking about, the vegetation seems thick all around, overgrowing a number of former paths. Leaves rustle suddenly, marking the presence of another being.
The Trackless Sea crashes into the rockface below, dragging it bit by bit into the endless ocean. Climbing down would be a poor idea, the last few who tried are being dragged out to sea at this moment. The forest trail here runs to the north and east.
This part of the southern reaches of Llyrath overlooks a sheer cliff that drops into the waters of the Trackless Sea. The pounding of the surf against stone is loud enough to drain out the sounds of the forests behind. The path here runs along the cliff edge, east to west. There is no sign of a path into the interior of the woods.
This seems to be the southeastern corner of Llyrath Forest. The ocean below extends out of sight past the southern and eastern horizons. The crash of the waves upon the rocky shores below is deafening, drowning out the sounds of the eerie forests nearby. The trees here almost seem normal, but then again, considering that this is Llyrath, appearances can be quite deceiving. The forest trail runs north and west here, away from the endless sea.
This seems to be the extreme northeastern part of Llyrath Forest. To the east and south the Trackless Sea is visible to the horizons, while to the north seems to be a small fishing cantrev. The west offers a route back to the heart of Llyrath, but the mutterings and other sounds of that place seem to advise not choosing that route.
This is the south side of a fallen fortress, a pile of stone that fell in upon itself a long time ago. Now only crumbled remains are left, but still enough for a tribe of firbolgs to use as a home and protection from the hostile elements of the surrounding swamps. This structure is now low-set and looks like little more than a waste heap, but looks are deceiving, for the giantkin who live here are fierce fighters who defend their homes to the end. The pile of stone lies just northward, the swamps lie in all other directions.
This appears to be the rotting interior of the tattered remains of the firbolg stronghold that once dominated this land. Despite the ruins that surround, this place is quite habitable. Many small rooms provide places for the giantkin to eat and sleep, while exits provide convenient access to the swampy lands about. A narrow but twisting staircase ascends from the tiled floor, leading to the roof above, an excellent vantage point for examining the land for intruders and other dangers.
This appears to be the side of the battered old Firbolg lair that has taken the most damage over time. Besides the fact that most of the stonework is charred and falling in upon itself, the growth of the swamp rises high up upon the walls, the weight of plants dragging the stones down to the murky waters below. Other than that, the building on a whole looks rather sturdy, in fact, one could claim that it appears to be quite habitable. In fact, it is just that, as the presence of firbolgs on the roof, shouting warning that intruders are about, warns that creatures lurk about.
This side of the firbolg lair looks relatively pristine, at least compared to the other sides. A large gate, rusted and fallen, serves as a bridge over a dark and slimy pool of water that blocks entrance to the firbolg lair. Other than the stone in front, it would appear that the swamp dominates the region. To all other directions, the evil presence of the land encroaches, but here, the firbolgs are kings, violently dealing with any and all interlopers. Even now, sentries on the roof give warning of invasion upon their sacred ground.
This appears to be the backside of the firbolg's castle, if one can call this a backside at all. The swamp literally laps eagerly at the broken and shattered stone that makes up the wasted side of the firbolg lair, attempting to drag the stone down beneath the marshy ground and reclaim the land for the swamps. Looking up, a tower ascends from the center of this structure, upon which stand firbolgs eagerly preparing for battle to crush intruders and save them for supper. Such a fate might befall those standing here, if they are not quick with their feet and weapons.
This tower top provides a splendid view of Central Gwynneth, a virtual panorama of the sights and sounds of the region. Swamps surround this castle, infested with all kinds of evil beings and crawling with creepy insects. On the horizons in all directions, however, clean and pure land can be seen, from the forests to the east and north to the flat farmland and grassy hills to the west and south. From this place can also be seen the patrolling firbolgs, grunting and pointing at the tower top. They confer and start heading this way.
The musty smell of the swampland around is muted here by sturdy stone walls, in between which lies the cellar and pantry of the firbolgs. Down here, some firbolg underlings heft barrels larger than most dwarves and carry them upwards towards wherever they may be needed. Too, the firbolgs keep their meager piles of treasure down here as well. Even now, seeing thieves, the firbolgs sound an alarm, and sentries rush to the attack.
This is a broad dirt road running east-west here between the fields of many farmers. To the west are the tall spires of Caer Corwell, marking the seat of Earl Randolph who oversees this land for High Queen Alicia Kendrick. Lying below the castle are the human town of Cantrev Corwell and the halfling village of Lowhill. Beyond that is the Corwell Firth, a placid body of water connecting to the Straits of the Leviathan. Local farmers call out greetings to one another while tending to their daily chores. To the south is a large forest known as Llyrath, about which dark rumors and legends circulate.
The Corwell Road winds away from the fields just outside the castle limits and into a hilly area between the Llyrath Forest to the south and open lands to the north. Most of this area seems to have been untamed by human hand. The trail is lightly travelled, but the few peasants passing by offer words of greeting and advice about the road ahead. The stench of death seems to be in the air, however, as if a plague struck nearby.
This is the top of a small hill, but by no means an unimportant one. This is Freeman's Down, the site of a great battle many years ago during the Darkwalker War which plagued the land long ago. The stench of death is quite strong here, as carrion birds circle, picking what little flesh is left off a great number of corpses deep in a trench on the side of the road. The road continues east and west, and there is a path off to the north that looks like another route away from this mass grave.
Cantrev Koart is a well-to-do village near the midpoint of the Corwell Road. Named for its mayor, a local militia leader, Cantrev Koart offers peasants the finest in Moonshae luxury (which doesn't say much for wandering heroes). The signs of wealth are many: stone houses, a bustling marketplace, and a militia patrol headed this direction with new steel weapons. New steel weapons? Mayhaps it's already time to embark for distant frontiers!
The Corwell Road rises sharply towards the east as the mountains beckon travellers headed for Kingsbay and the eastern coast of Gwynneth. The road here is uneven, as rocks and debris litter the path. To the west come the sounds of a small town, while the north and south are gloomy forests, places where beasts rule over man, and the strongest survive.
The vantage from here, up in the mountains, is spectacular. The Corwell Road rises into the mountains here as it makes its way towards Caer Corwell in the west and Kingsbay in the east. To the north and south, however, lie the forests of Llyrath Wood and Myrloch Vale. Something flashes in the far north, near the horizon. It seems to come from a lake of some sort, mayhaps a signal of some kind.
The path here is covered in snow, but since it ran east and west before, it probably does now as well. Hostile terrain dominates the area, from the snow covered mountains here to foreboding Llyrath Forest to the south, and the swampy Fens of the Fallon can be seen to the north. Dotting the sky around the area here is smoke... as if towns were on fire and the land under invasion.
The road drops sharply going west to east as it departs the mountains of Central Corwell. This is a relatively pristine area of hills and valleys, but there are definite signs of habitation across the area by the columns of smoke rising up out of the mountains to the west and north. To the south lies the gloomy forest known as Llyrath, while the Corwell Road ascends a small hill to the east.
The Corwell Road straightens out, cutting a straight path without any noticeable rise or fall as it continues west to east. The land here seems to mostly be flat prairie, and as such the sun beats down and warms up this part considerably. To the south are dark trees, signifying the end of human habitation and the beginning of Llyrath Forest. To the north appear to be the hills before a mountain range. The air smells faintly of salt.
This appears to be the eastern endpoint of the Corwell Road, as it tops a small rise and literally ends a couple hundred feet from the town of Kingsbay. Beyond Kingsbay are the blue-green waters of the Trackless Sea, on which several fishing boats can be noticed. The Corwell Road leads west, back to the other side of the island and Caer Corwell. To the south is Llyrath Wood, a place where beast rules and men fear to tread. To the north appear to be a number of fields of the inhabitants. Small cantrevs also dot the prairie.
This is a small town, but most likely one of the major towns of the east coast of Gwynneth. Boats jockey for position on the waves of the Trackless Sea to the east, each fisherman trying to outdo his compatriots. The Corwell Road starts on a small hill west of here, tops a small rise and vanishes in the distance. Signs of a forest are southwest, and open prairie dominates the northwest.
This road runs along the Corwell Firth, leading east to Caer Corwell and west to the farming cantrevs of southwest Corwell. Looking northward, and a bit to the east, Caer Corwell comes into sight. To the east lies the spooky trees of Llyrath Forest, while farmland is southward.
The road here runs between the fertile fields of western Gwynneth and the Corwell Firth, a body of water leading out to the Straits of the Leviathan to the west. In the distance to the east one can see both the trees of Llyrath and the tall, stone spires of Caer Corwell.
This is the end of the Western Corwell Road. Bordering the road on the north side is Corwell Firth, the harbor that serves the castle to the east. The road itself wanders off in that general direction as well, while a small but prosperous town sits westward. The south is rich farmland that helps to feed the masses of this island.
This is the middle of a small town, Cantrev Pontswain by name, the seat of power for this region of Gwynneth. There are mostly small buildings here, housing the residences and businesses of the town, while a small castle at the far edge of town seems to house its mayor. The lavishness of the castle attests to the high taxes of the region, as the Pontswain clan has been known to tax villagers into poverty so that they may enjoy finery and impress the royals. The fields and part of the Corwell Road also borders this town.
This is the middle of a wheat field, the stalks of grain waving in the breeze. The food grown here is exported to the rest of the islands, and even beyond in fertile times. As a result, this area has been enriched quite a bit, but despite this the peasants look depressed for some strange reason. Strange...
This is the middle of a field of grain, one of many that cover this region of the land. The peasants who tend the fields here are quite good at their work, but they are totally unresponsive to anything else. Looking about, the Corwell Road lies north and the Trackless Sea to the west, and a large forest appears on the eastern horizon.
This small forest is named for the nobility of the region. All about are signs of nature, and signs of human work, as snare traps, pit traps, and steel jaws are set everywhere to catch game. The forest is awfully silent, showing the skill that the hunters and foresters have.
This is a small but bustling village, somehow independent of the regions controlled by Lord Pontswain and his cronies, as is evidenced by the feelings of joy and other happy emotions present. Obviously, this is a group of outlaws who have taken matters into their own hands and tossed the yoke of tyranny from around their necks. A forest to the north and the proximity of Llyrath Wood to the east does well to hide these people from any watching eyes.
The rich fields of the area are filled with tall stalks of grain waving in precise rows. Many a peasant tends to his or her crops with a fearful glance to the east, however, as if they expect some demon to bound out of the forest there at any minute. Walking around are local militiamen, reassuring the peasants and trying to keep order. Fields are all about, except for the Trackless Sea to the south.
This is a small hill, at least when compared to some of the mountains that exist on Toril and even here on the Moonshaes. Despite that, this hill is large enough for all the combined flocks of the region to have ample grazing land and water. A horn blows, and shepherds scatter with their flocks, as a warning of some kind is given. A few of the peasants glance at the forest to the east and tremble before moving. The hill now is deserted, and not a sound is to be heard.
This is the north gate of the small but bustling town of Corwell. This town, which sits in the shadow of imposing Caer Corwell to the north, is an active place where humans work and live under the able guidance of the Kendrick dynasty. Looking about, this area of the town seems to be dominated by squat one-story structures, probably a residential district for the town's lower class as few comforts of upper class life can be seen. In all directions save north, roads lead further into the city.
The sturdy stone walls that protect Corwell Town bend here towards the west and south, following the road that seems to circle the city. This section of town seems to be an upper middle class section, as well-built stone houses, most of them two-floor, dominate this region. Looking out beyond the walls, the moors of southern Corwell are visible, as well as the road that connects this town to the castle. To the east lies a dark and misty forest, the trees of Llyrath, a mysterious and dangerous place according to rumors.
This appears to be the sprawling town square of Corwell Town. All around, wide and paved paths lead off to permit easy access to the rest of the city. The mayor's imposing residence takes up one full corner of the square, a three floor building that doubles as an armory, mayoral office, and house. Another side of the square is taken up by a large hospital, and the home of the New Gods who have sparse worship upon the isles. A third side of the square is in fact a small grove, within being a Moonwell tended by a druid or two. The distinctive odor of the sea arises from the west.
The sturdy stone walls of Corwell Town block passage to the north and west, but also bar hostile forces from entering. This wall has seen many battles from the days that it was built to protect this town from hostile Northmen. Now, it simply serves as the marking of the town's borders. This area of town, close to the vital waterfront, is a collection of taverns and bars, catering to all walks of sailors and merchants who arrive daily in their ships. A few drunken bums beg for money, but the wise man leaves them alone and moves on to a better location in which to do business.
This area of town appears to be the commercial district of the city. Many small shops and stalls compete for limited space, and the crowds of people mob the stands, looking for bargains and such. Cityguards walk the streets openly, keeping order here and preventing too much damage from being done to the wares of the merchants. Streets run off to the south, west, and north, while the forests of Llyrath lie beyond the stone walls to the east.
This appears to be a warehouse district of the town of Corwell, near enough to the piers that transportation of goods that leave the Moonshaes from this port isn't a hassle convenient to access as well. Most of the buildings here seem to be large stone monoliths, rather run down, and many darkened by the sort of wear that these structures must receive. Wide roads lead towards the north, east, and south, with plenty of traffic to keep the guards in the area busy watching for pickpockets. Sturdy walls block passage to the west, with the flatlands of southwestern Corwell visible beyond.
This is the slums section of Corwell Town, where the poor and the unemployed are dumped to make whatever they can of their tortured existence. The whole area smells of vomit and stale beer, and every bum lying around begs for money from every passerby. This is obviously not a part of town that one wishes to stay long in. Wide, well-paved roads lead towards the wharves northward, and towards residential districts to the east. Tall stone walls bar passage to the south and west, guarding the city and separating the people from the wild moors lying in those directions.
This appears to be a small-scale commercial district tucked just inside the southern walls of Corwell Town. Cobbled streets run between small shops, which sell goods that tend not to fare too well in the open market: clothing, armor and weapons, and so on. Inns and taverns also dot this area of the village, many with colorful signs or beds of flowers sitting in windows to attract some attention. To the west appears to be the slums of this city, while to the north is the town square, and eastward lies a residential district.
This appears to be the southeast corner of Corwell Town, a small residential district with houses widely spaced apart and well guarded by private police forces. From the view of things, this must be the upper class section of this city, and a tolerant part of it as well, for greedy halflings intermingle with the largely human crowd. Wide streets lead to other sections of the city to the north and west, while tall stone walls lie to the east and south, ably guarded by strong men. A gate lies within the east wall, allowing access for those travelling to and from the halfling hamlet of Lowhill.
This is a small town of burrows, the halfling community of Lowhill that lies in the shelter of Corwell. Halflings wander about, taking care of their daily business or simply trekking to and from Corwell Town proper, up a small hill to the west. Small stone walls, not nearly as high as Corwell's, but sturdy and well defended nonetheless, block passage to other directions and keep the creatures of the wild and untamed lands of Southern Corwell at bay to all other sides.
This appears to be little more than a wide dirt road that connects to the two sections of the Corwell Road to the east and west, and a connection route for the castle to the north and the town to the south. The castle itself, Caer Corwell, lies atop a hill to the north, its tall spires quite visible despite the low-hanging clouds that seem to pervade this section of the island. Corwell Town, lying to the south, is surrounded by a sturdy stone wall. The calm waters of Corwell Firth lie westward.
The road here runs up a steep rise to the north and in-between towering stone walls towards the courtyard of Caer Corwell, the imposing castle that is the seat of power on the isle of Gwynneth. Looking about, many sights are visible. To the east lie some of the fertile fields that feed this land, while to the west lies the placid waters of Corwell Firth, the harbor that serves this part of the island. To the south, the two sections of the Corwell Road are visible, converging upon the town that lies just southward.
This is the gatehouse of Caer Corwell, a small, block-like structure that is incredibly uncomfortable to be in. The stone walls themselves seem to radiate a tremendous cold, causing all guards here to shiver. The ceiling is rather low, forcing all to stoop when coming in. Despite all this unpleasantness, any guards assigned here accept the post with great honor, for one of the most fierce battles of the Darkwalker War took place on these very stones, when a group of doughy dwarves drove back an assault of evil firbolgs. There are but two gates out of this structure, to the south, and the Castle Road, and north into the courtyards of Caer Corwell.
This is the southern end of the grand courtyard of Caer Corwell. Flowering plants are everywhere, releasing a pleasing odor into the air. These plants remain fertile and vibrant year-round, the result of a beneficent enchantment placed upon them by the druids of Gwynneth. Broad paths run between the plants to the north, west, and east, while the blocky gatehouse of the castle lies to the south. The tall spires of the castle blot out the sun from here, allowing a passing breeze to chill the bones of all who stand about.
Tall stone walls blockade in this section of the courtyards and gardens of Caer Corwell. Broad paths lead away to the west and north, towards the castle and gatehouse respectively, while guards alertly stand watch upon the towering monoliths of stone in the other directions. Other than that, there is quite little of note in this particular area.
This is the southwestern portion of the grand courtyard of Caer Corwell, which like most of its other sections is decorated quite nicely with flowers and other assorted plants. Tall stone walls bracket the area on the western and southern sides, with a tall guard tower soaring skyward at their joining. Right beneath the tower is a small livery, where the horses of the royalty and of some of the area's cavalry are kept. Broad paths cut through the growth, allowing access to the rest of the gardens to the north and east.
This is the main gateway leading into the ancient castle known as Caer Corwell. Despite the gnarled look of the stonework, a vibrancy can be felt within the stones themselves. A proud banner depicting a boar's head, the symbol of the Kendrick reign upon the Moonshaes, flaps proudly in the breeze above the gateway. Broad paths lead into the courtyard to the west, south, and east, while the main hall of the castle lies northwards.
This is the northwestern end of Caer Corwell's courtyard. Druidic magic has turned this place into a comfortable spot in which to rest. A cool breeze whistles through the trees that grow up out of the stone, perpetually in bloom and providing shade from the burning sun overhead. Winding paths make their way between the scattered trees, passing benches on their way towards the gate to the castle eastward and the stables to the south. In the other directions, the protective walls of the castle rise more than twenty feet, defying any way out via those directions.
A number of small and squat structures dominate this section of the castle courtyards, tucked protectively inside the eastern walls of the castle. From the looks of the building's inhabitants, and the spotless look of the interiors of the structures themselves, this must be the barracks for the castle guards, the people whose livelihood is guarding the rulers of the castle, the gate to which is just westward. A path also winds along the eastern wall towards the south, leading to some of the gardens that lie about this area.
This appears to be the main foyer of Caer Corwell. Halls branch off in all directions save south, where a large portal yawns, leading outdoors into the splendid gardens of the castle. Looking about, it appears that there is little of interest in this place. Areas of the castle lie to the east and west, while what appears to be a dining room and banquet hall is northward. A spiral staircase, made of iron, leads towards the upper floors.
Large glass windows gaze out from here onto the still waters of the harbor and further towards Corwell Firth, the waterway that connects the town to the open waters of the Trackless Sea. Looking about, this seems to be little more than a large hall, probably utilized for something boring like diplomatic negotiations or speeches to the nobles. A short corridor leads off towards the east, where it appears the castle opens up into a large foyer.
This appears to be little more than an empty chamber of a decent size, the eastern portions of Caer Corwell. The place seems deserted, as if this part of the castle is not important enough to serve any useful purpose. A dark and damp corridor leads off towards the west, opening up into the main foyer of the castle. Large windows allow a view of the countryside to the east, and a look through them reveals nothing but fertile farmland and peasants hard at work tilling the soil.
This appears to be the main function room of the castle, a large hall that is suitable for either a grand banquet or as an auditorium for wandering bards and performance groups to entertain the royalty. Even now, some of the castle servants are putting together a large table for the evening meal, and the smell of roast boar comes out of the kitchen, invigorating all with its tastiness. To the south, the rooms lighten up as the main foyer there borders the sunny courtyards. To the north appears to be a throne room of some sort.
This appears to be the throne room of Caer Corwell, although it no longer serves the purpose which it had for so long, since the Kendrick royalty now rules from the isle of Alaron, in the grand city of Calidyrr. Nowadays, it serves a more ceremonial purpose, although Earl Randolph still uses the room for the purposes of ruling the land in the Kendrick name. A banquet hall lies southward, but there appears to be no other exit.
The upper hallway of Caer Corwell is a quiet place, with most sounds muffled by the banners and carpets that drape this area in finery. The hallway itself runs to the east and west, with a door in the northern wall and a large window providing a magnificent view of the lands to the south. Looking out through the window, the bustling town of Corwell can be seen, and shifting one's gaze slightly provides a look at the halfling villa of Lowhill or the Corwell Firth and adjoining harbor.
This is the western end of the upper hallway of Caer Corwell. To the north appears to be a guest chamber of some sort, convenient to the rest of this castle for any and all visitors. The hallway runs east for a short distance, bypassing a large window that looks out upon the town below. Doors dot the northern wall of the hallway, and guards alertly scan for hostile intruders sneaking about.
This is the eastern end of the upper hallway of Caer Corwell. A large door stands in the middle of the northern wall here, and two similar doors dot the northern wall of the rest of the hallway, which continues for a short distance to the west. The door here is slightly ajar, and looking in shows a nicely decorated guest room. Looking down the hallway, a large glass window can be seen, probably looking out upon the rest of the land.
This is a finely appointed guest chamber, lavish enough to suit almost any visitor's wildest dreams. Thick carpets, appearing imported and exquisitely decorated, are laid across the floor, and the sheets of the bed appear fit for a king or queen. Expensive lamps throw light about the room, showing it to be a large and generous area in which to recline and forget one's worries, if only for a while. A door to the upper hallway lies on the southern wall.
These are the lavishly appointed quarters of Earl Randolph, the former guardsman who has served loyally in taking wardship of this land for twenty years for the Kendrick Dynasty. Despite his rank, Randolph appears not to have forgotten his roots, as this room is quite spartanly decorated. A few pictures dot the walls, and the bed looks comfortable, but other than that there is little to distinguish this room from that of a common person. A large oaken door on the southern wall leads out to the hallway. There are no other exits.
This is one of the well furnished guest rooms here at Caer Corwell, looking fit for a king or other high noble to stay in during a vacation or other visit. The decorations of this room are all extremely luxurious, from crystal lamps to rare artwork and more. The bed too is quite lavishly appointed, large enough to sleep half an army regiment and relaxing enough that even the most profound insomniacs would have little trouble getting to sleep. A wooden door stands in the middle of the southern wall, leading out into the hallway and beyond.
The elven land of Synorria lies on a plateau just east of here, separated from civilization by a long climb and a small creek. Everything about this place symbolizes beauty, from the waterfalls cascading down the rocks to the trees and plants that grow alongside them. Sentries wander near the edges of the top of the plateau, weapons ready to kill any and all intruders. This must be to protect all the elven treasures that are legend among the peoples of this island. The river flows north to south, while Myrloch Vale is but a few steps to the west.
The creek flows swiftly here, north to south along the edge of the elvish lands. A small channel exits the raging river, flowing into a small tunnel in the plateau to the east, making the sounds of entering a large cave once inside. Other than that, there is only an exit to the west, into the forests of mysterious Myrloch Vale.
The ground here is muddy alongside the creek that wanders nearby. The creek itself wells up from underground, and flows down a ridge to the south. Above is the dominating elven plateau, descending many hundreds of feet in a sheer cliff. To the west is one of the forests that cover this place. Looking about, elven footprints can be seen everywhere. They must have a secret entrance nearby!
This appears to be the resting place of a small stream that dies among the scattered rocks and mud of this area. Above soars a massive plateau, home to the elves of this island. Legends tell of their land as incredibly beautiful and wealthy, but also that the elves kill anyone fortunate enough to gaze upon their homes. A stream flows in from the east, while Myrloch Vale surrounds on the north and west sides. A small but rocky pass lies southward.
A small but swiftly flowing brook runs east to west here, parallel to the borders of the elven homelands of Synorria. A majestic plateau is above, but any thoughts of climbing it are snuffed out by the sharpshooters standing at the edge, impassively watching your every move. Myrloch Vale lies to the north, a dark and ominous forest.
This is a lightly wooded copse on the northern side of the grand elven plateau of Synorria. Beautiful waterfalls cascade down the rocks to meet a rapidly flowing stream below, that stream paralleling the elven border. The copse that shades a large area of ground here seems to be part of a larger forest that lies northward, and disappears off into the distance. Of course, the rockface bars transit to the south, and only a fool would try climbing the plateau and testing the defenses of the stubborn elves.
This is a stream bed north of the Synorrian Plateau. Waterfalls form at the top of the plateau and cascade down the rocks until they meet up with the river here. The river itself flows in from highlands to the east, and drops rapidly towards the west. Wind whips through a small canyon, chilling all travellers to the bone, no matter what they wear. Myrloch Vale seems an almost peaceful alternative road of travel, off to the north.
The terrain here is treacherous as it rises up towards the middle level of the Synorrian Plateau. The path alongside a small stream is dangerously narrow, with bloodstains attesting to the difficulty of others to keep themselves in one piece when they get here. Above and south is the plateau, a forest lies to the north, and this path runs east and west from this locale.
The river splashes over a rise to the west and drops beyond some distance, as the roar of a waterfall from that direction can be quite clearly heard. Here, the river falls from the east into the narrow gorge in which this path runs. The forests of Myrloch can no longer be seen, only the path running to the east and west in perpetual shade.
The path of the river follows a line of hills northeast of Synorria. From here the river shoots up from underground in a small geyser, before landing in a stream bed and wandering off to the north and south. Trees shade the path from the blazing sun, allowing adventurers some shade to plot their next moves. The crashing of waves upon a beach can be heard off in the distance.
A small ridge here overlooks a placid river flowing in from the north, and out to the south. Like much of the rest of this region, the river is a sign of clear, pristine beauty, beauty of such perfection that it could only be a sign of careful work by elves who must lair nearby. The river forks as well, with one end leading into a natural cavern to the west. Above the rockface from which the cavern sprouts lies a towering plateau, with a couple of sentries staring out from the top of it, watching for intruders into their kingdom. To the east lies sheltering trees of some Gwynneth forest.
The path here drops into a valley, bustling with brilliant shades of green. The trees wave in the breeze, inviting all to stay and revel in their eternal dance. Despite this seemingly peaceful and wondrously beautiful scene, this is not the elvish land of Synorria, for there has been no contest to travel by the fierce elves. Their plateau, instead, rises to the west, while the forests of Gwynneth lie eastward. A narrow river, clear and pristine, flows from the north to the south.
A small stream wanders its way north to south, running through a shallow but incredibly narrow gorge. All around are signs of natural beauty which elves so prize: exotic wildflowers, rare trees, rock sculptures of ancient elven heroes. Birds chirp merrily, and all seems peaceful when one does not look up at the towering heights of the Synorrian Plateau, heavily guarded by expert marksmen who observe all trespassers into the region. To the east, the land drops slightly through a forest, and the glittering waters of the Straits of Aldi beckon marines and sailors.
The river flows north to south here, winding slowly towards the Synorrian Plateau as it rises out of a gorge to the north. The plateau itself rises majestically into the air, awing all with its majesty. A sentry trail runs alongside the river, allowing easy travel to the north and south for any who just pass by the Plateau on their journeys. The scent of salt rides the breeze, indicating a large body of water nearby. A quaint forest lies to the east.
A small brook meanders east to west through a small but relatively thick grove of aspen trees here. Towering above is a massive plateau, the homeland of Gwynneth's elves. Down on the ground it is relatively peaceful, for the lands are safely watched by the elusive elves. To the south are part of the forests that cover this island, while the river runs east and west.
This is the southern bank of a river that parallels the Synorrian border. The plateau itself soars into the skies many hundreds if not thousands of feet. Nature makes its presence felt quite keenly. A myriad of shades of green and brown assaults the visual senses, and many hundreds of birds and insects buzz and chirp their welcomes. A small path here leads to the east and west, while a dark forest lies southward.
The river splashes around a small bend and down into a small gorge as it runs along the Synorrian border. The path here runs well above the water, on the lip of the gorge, providing a dazzling view of the whitewater. Other than that, and the ever-present elven plateau, there is little of interest in the area. Forested land lies to the south.
The path here wanders across a small bridge and crosses the river to the near side of the plateau. A branch of the river veers off to the east, entering a small and dangerous tunnel flowing under the elvish kingdom. The rockface itself rises many hundreds of feet, onto the broad plateau which is the rumored home of the last of the lands of the elves upon these islands. In fact, the cold eyes of a sentry stares out over the lands from above, warning all whom wander these lands to turn away from their kingdom. The look in his eyes makes the dark woodlands to the west seem rather pleasant in comparison, as they make a guarantee of death to interlopers.
This is a flat wooden bridge that spans the river marking the edges of the elven lands. This bridge appears designed for heavy traffic, whether armies or caravans, but nowadays it appears to receive little, if any use. A path runs north and south, along the edges of the river, while Myrloch Vale lies to the west.
Two rivers flow into this area and wander east into the rocks of the elven plateau. Meeting about halfway, they merge before entering a small channel. Too tight for any humanoid beings, it is a pathway that the elves need not guard in preventing entry to their homeland. Other than that, the dark trees of Myrloch are to the west.
This narrow crevice runs between two of the defensive ridges of Synorria. It is so well hidden that few would ever consider this to be an entrance to the elvish homeland, but it is just that. The valley slopes sharply upwards to the east, rising to meet the top of the plateau. The only other obvious exit is through the rocks to the west.
This is a shaded canyon, carved out long ago by a river that dried up long before humans set foot on this island. Now the canyon serves as a travel road for sentries and outriders guarding the Synorrian border. The path through here leads to the east and west, rising sharply towards clearer terrain in the east.
This is a region of gently sloping ridges on the western end of the elven lands of Synorria. Standing near the lip of the plateau, one can see well into Myrloch Vale before reaching the horizon line. The ground here is rather uneven, but a wide dirt trail circles the forest to the east. Downwards is a small chute leading towards the canyon that provides access to this area. To the east is a small grove of aspen trees, providing shade for the weary and a place to rest for the sentries who so tightly guard this land.
This is a line of ridges along the northwestern edge of the Synorrian Plateau, staring out over the vast forests and hills of Myrloch Vale. The greenery of the forest is only broken occasionally by a glowing lake, known to practitioners of the Earthmother's faith as a Moonwell. Here on the high ground, a frosty wind swirls, numbing anything it can reach. The plateau runs to the east and the south, while towards the center of this plateau lies a forest and a crystal palace.
The edge of the cliff here is constantly buffeted with frosty winds, freezing any who stand here in a matter of minutes. Behind is a wide path circling near the edge of this plateau. The path leads east and west, but keeping a good distance between itself and the forests to the south. The clopping of horse's hooves signal the approach of elven riders, and that means it's probably a good time to hide or run.
This is a dirt trail that runs precariously close to the edge of the rockface that marks the northern border of Synorria. Below and further north are part of the forests that make up Myrloch Vale, broken in seemingly random places by clearings and lakes. To the east and west the ridge network runs unabated, and a path running alongside them for patrolling sentries. To the south are some of the majestic forests of the Synorrian Plateau.
This small knoll allows a great view of Eastern Gwynneth, which looks very much like other parts of Gwynneth. Forested hills and mountains (yes, there is very little to look at on this island other than forest) run between here and the rocky coastline. A wide dirt trail circles the plateau, leading to the south and west from this location. Further towards the center of the plateau is another forest, and the sounds of elves and nature at play is quite evident within.
This is a rocky outcropping staring out toward the Trackless Sea in the distance to the east. All around the plateau is an army of trees, standing on low and medium hills, appearing to besiege the plateau with their force. Behind is a wide trail made for patrolling elves, namely the mounted Sisters, to use when watching for intruders. Now the area is quiet, but the various chirps and buzzes that are associated with the creatures of nature sound occasionally. The forests of the Llewyrr lie to the west, while the trail runs to the north and south.
This is a rocky ridge high above the forests on the eastern edges of the Synorrian Plateau. The winds whip around tearing at every piece of exposed flesh and equipment, chilling all to the bone. However, the view of eastern Corwell and the beaches along the Straits of Aldi is unparalleled by anything else in view. Behind runs a north-south path, wide enough for elvish patrols on horseback when they ride out this far in sentry duty. To the west rises a forest, and beyond that a crystalline palace can be seen.
The plateau reaches its southeastern edge here along the relatively mild ridges along the pathway. The path itself runs north and west from this point. The forests of Synorria fill in the scenery to the northwest, while the wild forests of Central Gwynneth lie beneath the plateau on a series of hills.
The ridges here allow a dazzling view of southern Corwell from this vantage point. Trees form broad forests with only occasional clearings and lakes from beneath all the way to the horizon, and mayhaps even beyond. Behind lies more trees, the forests of the Llewyrr who call this plateau home. A path wanders along the plateau's edge, to the east and west, wide enough for cavalry patrols to make an easy trek while searching for intruders.
This is the southwest corner of the plateau, looking downward at vast forests that seem to fill the region from horizon to horizon. Here and there, Moonwells poke out of the treeline, bright flashes of light upon the landscape. Behind are the sounds and smells of the elven forests, starting beyond the patrol trail and leading inward until they reach the elven city. The trail itself leads among the ridges to the north and east.
This is a dense area of brush and trees. Despite the shades of black that permeate the area, there seems to be no hostility present, whether in plant or animal. The sounds of nature, on the other hand, come from all around, in a myriad of hums, buzzes, chirps, and so on. The air brightens to the west some, but to the north south and east there seems to be no difference at all.
This is just inside of a line of trees blocking the view of the lip of the Synorrian Plateau. It all seems peaceful around here, at least until the eyes of hostile elven archers stare back. It appears that the Synorrian Tourism department went on permanent vacation, leaving their jobs to Security. The sentries look like they would be happiest if all outsiders left. Daylight streams in from the north and east, while the forest grows ever darker to the south and west.
This is the middle of a murky forest, the ground overgrown by weeds and thorns. A clear path is not to be seen, and wandering only makes one forget which way is north. All around are the solid trunks of trees, and the slightly misty air of the forest. The air is just as dark everywhere else as it is here, and even the insects and birds have stopped their songs.
This is the middle of a small copse of trees that gradually thickens into a true forest to the north and west. Bright sunlight streams through the canopy of leaves above, outlining a complex series of ridges to the east and south. The insects are buzzing, and animals play cheerfully despite intrusion into their homes. All seems peaceful.
This is a murky darkness between a large area of trees. The area itself is quite overgrown by creepers and shrubs. A wolf howls off in the distance, making an eerie feeling run through the air. Nothing seems out of place or hostile here, despite the cries of the wolves. The air brightens to the south somewhat, but nothing else can be seen in any other direction.
The light is blotted out by inter-linked branches of ancient trees, having grown together long ago to keep this area in perpetual darkness. Little can be seen from here, as the darkness and the trees effectively reduce visibility to zero. Brambles make walking a difficult and painful experience. The west seems to have the only signs of light remaining, for the trees seem to have sucked the light out of the other directions.
The forest thickens here, this being the only evident sign from the light filtering down through the canopies of leaves. It appears that every direction leads to the same thing, more forest, meaning that the enchanted forests of the Llewyrr have trapped another victim. All around are imposing signs of nature's cruelty: walls of brambles, thorny bushes, and much much more. In all directions, it grows ever darker.
A slight mist begins rising from the ground here, as the forests of Synorria lead more victims deeper. Combined with the shrieking of hawks and the buzz of insects, it makes for a most spooky atmosphere. Every turn seems to hide new dangers, and the rocky cliffs that have sprung up to the north and south seem to suggest a sinister trap nearby. The forest runs to the west for quite a distance, while some clearing seems to be taking place to the east.
This is part of the edge of the forests of Synorria. Sunlight streams in from the north and west, while trees grow thicker and huddle together somewhat to the south and east. A sentry walks by on the edge of the plateau, but he notices nothing out of the ordinary and continues on.
The forest has grown silent. A light mist gathers around the ground, absolutely harmless but chilling nonetheless. The ground is becoming rocky, and cliffs have risen to either side, boxing in this forest in a canyon that runs to the north and south. To the south, the trees seem to end, but what new dangers lie beyond in the open field?
This is a small hill, hidden deep within the maze of forests around the plateau of Synorria. The area is deadly silent, only broken once in a while by the howl of a distant wolf. Walls of rock rise up on either side, forcing travellers to walk a straight and narrow path. All around are the eyes of the unfriendly elven sentries, quietly telling all to leave this haunted place and return to more hospitable lands.
The trunks of the massive elven trees seem to supplement the rock walls now present around in forcing wanderers to stay on a narrow and straight path. It appears the elves have conspired with nature to lead all into a devious trap, for even now the eyes of sentries monitor this place. The trees seem to end in a couple hundred feet, but that leads onto open elven lands, where doom is bound to strike.
The flatlands here bustle with elven life. Commoners scarcely glance about as they go about their daily business. The rockface above has what appeared to have been once a magical sigil, but now it has been torn asunder by some massive force. This must be the legendary Elvish Gate, which connected this island to Evermeet through the astral planes until its destruction by the Ityak-Ortheel, the Elf-Eater, many years ago. Now the cliffs are simply lifeless rock, without any magical power so to speak. To the east rises an immense crystal palace, capital of the Synorria elves.
Pools of crystal clear water stand here, connected by a series of aqueducts to one another. These must be the legendary elven trout farms, where the Synorrian people raise much of their food. Swimming in the pools are all kinds of trout, most of them babies as the hatching season appears to have been a short time ago. Even now, however, you see elven workers removing some from the pond, obviously to go to market or court, just to feed the population of this kingdom.
This is a small elven village, nested protectively into the side of a series of cliffs in this region of Synorria. Most of the young elves are scampering about in a small field near a building that seems to serve as a school. There are precious few adults around right now, as most work and earn their keep in Synorrian society. To the west rises the crystal palace, the building from which the queen rules the Llewyrr elves. The trees of the elven woods lie to the east. The smell of fresh fish also comes from this area.
On this spot are some of the Synorrian trout farms, from which come much of the food that the sprightly elves eat. Many workers, most of them female, tend the various pools and brooks in which the trout here swim. Unlike the other trout ponds that dot the area, this one seems to have a predominantly adult population, and a number are speared and dressed for market at this very moment. A massive crystal palace rises to the north, while forests beckon travellers to the south. Elvish homes and farmsteads lie to the east and west of this place.
This palace represents more than three thousand years of elvish history. In here is the combined knowledge of the land of Synorria, all records about each and every individual elf, and the ruling chambers for the queen and her advisors. Currently, the queen and advisors are arguing about the fish farms, and whether to import a different type of fish from the Ffolk and Northmen.
The chilling water runs swiftly through this channel and up into a large cave, easily large enough to hold an army. There isn't quite an army of elves here, but there are enough to shoot numerous arrows in this direction. Staying here could be rather dangerous.
A thick canopy of leaves shields the sun overhead from this area of low hills. It seems far too quiet here, and an ambush seems likely given the total silence. As far as the eye can see, there are trees and hills.
Tight clusters of trees sit on top of hills, blocking many possible paths through the woods. Sunlight streams through the treetops, allowing the clever woodsman to determine direction here. All around are trees and hills, but the cry of a seagull splits the air.
The forest seems thinner here, and the hills and trees can be quite easily seen from this location due to the abundant sunlight. These trees seem to be quite ancient, as if they were here before the first humans arrived. To the east, a seagull cries, while to the west the forest seems to disappear.
The forest seems quite dark and murky here, and the only way to tell what blocks the path is to use the sense of touch as a second set of eyes. The sun cannot shine here, for the leaves and branches overhead are much too thick, and the light cannot find a hole to stream through. To the west the skies lighten, as the forest ends. In other directions, the forest seems to be endless.
The rocky ground here in this forest makes travel difficult and painful, as jutting boulders seem to be everywhere, smashing feet and ankles without care or preference. It seems to be dark as far as the eye can see, meaning that it is very likely the forest continues for some distance.
The huge and ancient trees here line the hills of this region, blocking out much of the sunlight from overhead. Animals seem to play just out of the line of sight, having a merry time in homes that they know well. For any who travel through here, the story is much different, as a lack of vision threatens to cause serious injury to one and all. In the faint light that exists, a rocky outcropping can be seen to the west, immense in size. The air carries a scent of salt, meaning that the ocean is also near.
A thick gloom seems to lie upon the trees here, blocking out sight of the greenery and hills that permeate this area. All around this seems to be the case, but rising high up seems to be a plateau of some sort in the west. The forest to the south also seems to end soon, but to the north and east the lines of trees seem almost endless.
The darkness seems to smother the area here, and only the silhouettes of trees as they loom in front warn anyone of their presence. The trees and darkness seem to extend for an eternity in each direction, and there seems to be no exit either.
This is a rocky beach, clear of trees and most other debris on the eastern edge of Gwynneth. The Straits of Alaron lap against the coastline, an effective barrier separating this land from Alaron, seat of the High Queen. The beach continues to the north and south, while a dense forest rises to the west.
Low sand dunes mark the edge of the island of Gwynneth, as it reaches the aqua waters of the Straits of Alaron. To the west rises a dark and threatening forest, with a tall mountain jutting out of it like some bloody finger. To the north and south the beaches run quite a distance.
The smooth white sand of Gwynneth's beaches here marks the end of land and the edges of the Straits of Alaron as it laps upon the shore. To the west looms a great forest, and a plateau beyond or within it. To the south lies a series of hills rising towards highlands and snow-covered peaks. To the north there is sand as far as the eyes can see, while the aforementioned waters lie to the east.
The forest darkens dramatically here, the light draining into the trees and branches above. Wanderers must trust their other senses as they make their way through the gnarled trunks and tangled vines that are called a forest. It is quite easy to become lost, in fact, each direction looks exactly the same, and without light one cannot tell which way is which. The cry of a large bird splits the air with its piercing shriek.
The white sand of Corwell's coastline makes a beautiful contrast with the aqua of the Straits of Alaron that lie eastward. To the west lies a dark forest, with a large rockface looming above it. To the north and south lies more sand, running to the horizon. Seagulls circle hopefully, hoping for a morsel or two from passing travelers.
The white sands here are fiery hot, having absorbed the sunlight for many hours without returning the heat to the clear skies above. The beach continues to the north and south, although the hills of southern Gwynneth loom on the southern horizon. To the east are the beautiful blue-green waters of the Trackless Sea, consisting mostly here of the Straits of Alaron. To the west lies a dark and foreboding wood, silent and mysterious. A hawk circles in the air, observing all beneath it like some avian sentry.
The white sands of the beaches of Gwynneth here continue, rising and falling on the hills almost like the tide that sweeps in from the east. The eastern trees of Myrloch Vale beckon the foolish and the fearless to the west, while the sand runs a distance to the north and south. On the southern horizon appears a mountain range, with stacks of black smoke attesting to the return of civilization to that region of the country.
This sandy beach parallels both the blue-green waters of the Straits of Alaron and the forests inland here on Gwynneth. The beach itself is rocky and uneven, probably a sign that it will end shortly and proceed into rougher terrain to the south. To the north, the beach continues as a strip of white and gold for a very long distance.
The sands of the beach here are quite uneven and rocky, as the foothills and mountains to the south begin having some say in the terrain here. To the west is a dark forest, mist flowing among the trees and generally gloomy and evil-looking. To the north, the beach continues out of sight, paralleling the blue-green waters of the Trackless Sea that lie eastward.
The sands of the beach here have a very fine quality, almost like quicksand, attempting to drag travellers under or at least hinder their journeys. The sand and sharp pieces of stone combine to make this a hideous torture just to pass through this region. The terrain seems easier to pass closer to the woods westward, but the lands of the Llewyrr elves are not welcome very much to outsiders. The beach itself runs north until the horizon and south until it reaches the wall of mountains a short distance off. The Straits of Alaron lie to the east.
The thick wet sand here threatens to drag all travellers under as they travel along the beaches of Gwynneth's eastern shore. Looking out to sea, small fishing and pleasure boats are quite obvious, fishermen making their living off the waters and tourists and peasants just relaxing and having a good time. To the north, the beach continues out of sight, while to the south it runs into the hills of a mountain range. To the west is a dark patch of forest, silent and eerie.
The rocky beaches of Gwynneth are nearly impassable here, due to the nature of the sand and the presence of sharp pieces of rock that litter the beach. The beach itself starts here and runs northward, for the mountains and hills to the south have swallowed this end up. To the west is a large and dark forest, with a plateau rising out of the middle. The Trackless Sea lies to the east, and the aqua waters are dotted by many boats out on this fine day.
The land rises up here out of the sands of Gwynneth's beaches to the north and into rocky and quite treacherous foothills. The hills themselves occupy the coastline, but they raise the elevation to a couple dozen feet above the sea level. The line of hills extends towards the west, trees adorning many of them, as it skirts the southern section of the forest in the area. To the south, the hills rise rapidly into true mountains. Inky pillars of smoke hang over the area, casting a pall upon this place.
The steep slopes and rocky ground makes this a dangerous route to travel. Looming to the south are a series of tall peaks, snow covering their summits year-round. All around on the west and north are hills, nothing but bumps and slopes bunched on the ground. The vantage point here is breathtaking as far as viewing the rest of the region goes. A large and dense forest rises to the northwest, and a plateau splits the treeline in the distance. The Straits of Aldi and the Trackless Sea lie to the east, separating this island from the others. It's a majestic sight.
The sheer rockface of the northern cliffs of this mountain is the only thing keeping the wind from tearing the whole party off the side and down to a crashing death at the bottom. While huddling from the wind, the altitude gives a wonderful opportunity to scout the area. A large forest, dense and dark, huddles to the northwest, and a beach followed by the ocean east of that. To the south and west, the mountains continue, with jets of inky black smoke showing signs of civilization, or of rampage and looting by foul forces.
The biting north wind tears at everything here, numbing it to the continued onslaught of nature. A small copse of evergreens here does little work as a wind shield, and as such makes this place most uncomfortable. The mountains run in every direction from here, with little sign of a change in terrain within the limited field of view. Streams of black smoke dot the sky, shifting with the wind into new positions.
This is a sheer snow-covered slope on the southern half of the range of mountains that helps to serve as a natural divider of Corwell. All around the snow and scree tumbles, threatening a life-burying avalanche. Headway can be made in any direction, through the snow and the trees and the rocks. Looking skyward, plumes of thick, dark, smoke rise to meet the clouds, sure signs that civilization indeed surrounds this area.
This is about halfway up the slope of a small mountain, small being in the relative sense of course. In sight to the south is the welcome ribbon of the Corwell Road, an easier thoroughfare to traverse than these mountains. Tall slabs of stone like this one rise to the north and west, continuing the range of mountains quite a distance. These give way to foothills before the Corwell Road, however. Streaks of gray smoke crisscross the sky, rising out of the scattered mountain cantrevs that provide essential coal and gold to the land.
The mountains to the north give way to this grassy slope which allows a decent view of the lands nearby. Most of the mountain range to the north and angling off towards the west are immense. The foothills lie just south of the mountains, huddling up in a sense due to their close proximity. The hills drop towards the south, leading off to the Corwell Road and points beyond.
This is the foot of a massive mountain range that effectively blocks the view of the north from this location. Signs of life are present from the worn paths into the hillside here and the plumes of smoke that rise out of the mountain cantrevs hidden from view. To the east, the land drops towards the ocean, while the Corwell Road runs an east-to-west path to the south. The line of hills continues to the west.
These are the tall grasslands of southeast Corwell, looking out over the lands of the area. To the south is the smooth Corwell Road, which provides smooth transit throughout southern Gwynneth. Supposedly, it links the town of Kingsbay in the east to Caer Corwell, the castle of the land, to the west. To the north, mountains rise skyward, within containing the mineral wealth that enables the kingdom to keep running. Crossing the mountains appears to be a difficult, but not impossible, task. Rumors speak of dark and eerie forests beyond the mountains.
This is the shore of the Trackless Sea, and this vantage point allows one to stare out over the waves at and past the boats of humble fishermen. The shore quickly disappears into the mountains northward, while a large stone wall surrounding the town of Kingsbay lies to the south. The only clear exits here are into the mountains, or into the grasslands that lie westward.
A small copse of firs and evergreens shields this area from the howling winds that threaten to destroy all in their path. From here, most of southeast Corwell is visible. Most prominent is the Llyrath Forest in the south, a dark and mysterious place. Directly to the forest's north is the Corwell Road, an east-west thoroughfare that connects the coasts of this island. And further north of that are a low line of hills before these mountains. The mountains themselves seem to continue north and west, and to the east the ocean beckons.
The top of a low hill allows a splendid vantage point of the area. To the north and west are a large chain of mountains, stretching out of sight beyond both horizons, dotted with rising plumes of inky black smoke. Looking to the east, there is nothing but the aqua waters of the Straits of Alaron. To the south are fields and the Corwell Road, and beyond that Llyrath Forest, home to druids and firbolgs.
The snow here is waist deep, impeding travel through much of the area up here in the mountains. The majestic pillars of stone continue to the west and north for quite a distance, with clouds of black smoke indicating cantrevs along the way. To the south and east the mountains drop into foothills, which then merge into the landscape around them. To the east is a large body of water, glittering aqua under the rays of the sun. To the south is a busy road, and further beyond that a gloomy forest.
This rocky ledge about a thousand feet off the ground is the only protected site from the wind. That wind shrieks all around in an attempt to tear everything asunder, but this ledge is safe. There are mountains as far as the eye can see, which isn't very considering the blowing snow and the mountains all about.
This is a small cantrev nested in a valley between two massive peaks to protect it from the wind. Looking about, this town seems to be little more besides a blacksmithy, a butcher, and a tanner, plus a few houses. This town must provide mineral ore to the islands in return for food. The land drops sharply to the east, but no relief from the strenuous climbs of the slopes can be found in any other direction.
This is the lip of a sheer cliff, which drops over a thousand feet into the shallows of the Straits of Alaron. Only to the west is there safe passage away from here, and that is back towards the village that occupies the next valley. To the east, south, and north, the waves crash against the rockface, trying to drag this whole part of the mountains down into a watery grave.
Thick snowdrifts make the going along the northern face of this mountain rather difficult. This appears to be the northern edge of this range, which then drops off into hills and forests, or the sandy beaches of Gwynneth's coastline. To the east are hills followed by the Trackless Sea, while to the south lies the rest of the mountain range.
The snowy slopes are left behind as this series of low hills looks out upon the Straits of Alaron. The cries of seagulls fill the air, and the pleasant salt breeze is far preferable to the icy blasts of the mountains westward. The hills end, however, right here, a few hundred feet above the water and some very deadly reefs. As there is no other exit in any direction, there is little choice but to return to the mountains.
These are grassy slopes that gradually rise towards the mountains to the south. All around, however, are signs of the nearby coastline. Seagulls and albatrosses fly overhead, shattering the silence with their shrieks and cries, while a salty breeze wafts through, ruffling the grass and bushes spotting the hills. Despite this, the looming presence of the mountains seems to dominate this area, and worry forms from the inky clouds of smoke that rise up out of the mountains, as if the cantrevs were burning.
This is a narrow sandbar that remains above the water, even at the high tide. To the east and north, the water level rises high enough for even the pleasure yachts to cruise comfortably. To the west and south, there is a small pool of water that separates this place from the mainland. Beyond that are rising mountains, dominating that region with their majesty.
Howling winds swirl about the area, their icy touch reminding all where they stand up here. Looking about, the mountain range extends far to the north and west, while it drops into foothills to the east. The southern view is blocked by other mountains and blowing snow.
The view from high up on this mountain's peak is splendid. Mountains run quite a distance to the east, where rising smoke indicates mining cantrevs. The other directions around are spotted with hills and forests, the main type of terrain upon this island. In the distance to the south, the Corwell Road is visible, running east and west across the land. An icy blast of wind makes this region quite uncomfortable, and thoughts of moving on seem prominent.
These gentle grass-covered slopes indicate the western end of the mountain range in this section of the country. Looking around, many of the features of this land can be seen. To the north are the Fens of the Fallon, a swampy area that lies before the eerie Myrloch Vale. To the east is a tall range of mountains, and to the south lies the Corwell Road and Llyrath Forest. A small firbolg patrol appears in the distance, and it's probably not a good idea to wait around and meet with them, so moving on becomes a good plan.
The coastline becomes quite rocky around here, as the beach approaches the forests of Winterglen and Aspenheight to the north. Forests seem everywhere, swinging around from the north to connect with the eastern reaches of Myrloch to the west. To the south, this beach continues to and past the horizon, while the Straits of Alaron meet the shore to the east.
The beach rises into the fringe of the Winterglen here, the sand ending on this rise when a hard dirt floor takes over. The Winterglen starts in full just over the next rise to the north, while the forests of the Llewyrr elves rises to the west. The beach here runs along the coast of the Straits of Alaron for a long distance to the south, before vanishing into the horizon.
This low mountain serves as an excellent sentry point overlooking both the Trackless Sea and the town of Kingsbay. To the west rises a tall mountain range that effectively blocks out the view of everything else. To the north and east the Trackless Sea glows aqua under the midday sun. And to the south lies both the town of Kingsbay and the Corwell Road that begins there and runs west, supposedly all the way to Caer Corwell or maybe even beyond.
The mountains to the east here dive low into foothills as the terrain undergoes a rapid change from the highlands to more passable lands. Those mountains, which begin directly east, run a long way into the horizon, at which point they disappear from sight. To the south lie some hills, followed by the Corwell Road, on which peasants wander back and forth. To the west and north lie the Fens of the Fallon, an open but swampy area on which firbolgs patrol, as one of their former fortresses lies there.
These open fields serve as easy travel between some of the more treacherous regions of Gwynneth. To the south lies the Corwell Road, but beyond that are the untamed lands of Llyrath Wood. To the east, a fearsome mountain range rises high into the sky, challenging all to fight nature with their toughest physical and mental skills. To the north, the land wallows into a deep marsh, more commonly known as the firbolg region of the Fens of the Fallon. To the west, the land remains open plains until it reaches the fields of farmers off in the distance.
The howling winds shriek about this mountain, snow flies by this location in great bunches, but the wind cannot touch this spot. Looking around through the low visibility, mountains are evident to all directions, save south, where the land swiftly drops into foothills. The wind tears through the trees around now, and it appears that it is time to move on or be blown away.
A line of foothills begins here, running to the east and west at the base of the mountains that tower over the area to the south. Looking about, there is little to see that is out of the ordinary. To the east is a sandy beach, followed by the Trackless Sea that glitters in the distance. To the north are the forests of Central Gwynneth, trees sprouting out of rolling hills covering the land in that direction, but little more.
Snow cascades down a steep slope here as the wind blows it up in the air and down the mountain. Mountains are all over the place, starting here and extending to the south and east, east to the ocean and south to who knows where. A line of hills marks the end of this range to the north, and a forest lies beyond that. To the west, the mountains also drop into hills and forest.
The sheer drops of the cliffs of this region of Gwynneth's mountains are enough to give anyone a fear of heights if they look down. Rocks tumble down from this region into a sheer gorge. Dropping down there would be entirely out of the question, as a painful death must await. To the east, north, and south are more mountains. The range drops off some into wooded hills to the west. An eagle circles the sky, observing your progress.
The wind whips through the treetops of this wooded mountain, making the tall sentries of the area bend almost horizontal with its sheer force. The combined effect of the cold and wind make this a most uncomfortable place to be in, but there appears to be little solace in sight. Mountains lie in every direction, and black smoke rises high into the sky, implying that any cantrevs in the area are probably in some sort of distress.
The low foothills here make for a far more comfortable resting spot than the gigantic mountains that lie to the east and northeast. This hill, and the whole area is sparsely covered with coarse grass, as to the north and northwest the area descends into a marsh, a firbolg lair known as the Fens of the Fallon. To the south lies the Corwell Road, and beyond that another forest.
This appears to be the extreme edge of a series of mountains that rises sharply to the east. Here are some low hills, barely rising ten feet off the ground from the marshy areas to the west. To the north and south continue a line of foothills. Birds circle overhead, seeking prey on the grounds below.
These low hills barely crest above the ground itself, but in the very least they serve two purposes. The marshy lands to the west and north are not comfortable resting spots, not that the firbolgs would let too many people have that liberty on their holdings. These hills also serve as the advance warning for the mountains that rise to the east, towering over Eastern Gwynneth in their majesty. To the south lies a series of low hills followed by the thin ribbon of the Corwell Road.
This is a series of low ridges lying just a few feet over the swampy marsh that has sprung up to the west and to a lesser extent northward. The marsh itself seems to be unthreatening, but the presence of a small fortress off in the distance indicates forces that would rather travellers take a different path past their lands. To the south, the foothills continue, while to the east the land rises into palatial mountains that block out the sky.
This is a wooded hill, overgrown by evergreens and brush that thrive in the semi-darkness. Looking overhead, the sky is only visible in patches where the cover of leaves and branches gives way. Looking about, the trees vanish to the east and somewhat to the north, while a series of mountains sprouts up off the ground to the south. To the west, the forest darkens.
The forest descends into deep shadow as the leaves overhead do an excellent job of blotting out the heavens from view. Shadows lie everywhere, some look like frightening silhouettes of nasty creatures ready to leap out at any moment. Glancing about, it seems the only direction that the forest does not lie is eastward, but from there the crashing of waves onto reefs can be clearly heard.
The forest here seems dark and frightening, with eyes looking out from every leaf, branch, bush, and hollow in sight. The forest itself is silent, save for the rustling of leaves in the breeze. The noise, however, is quite made up for by the surf sounding nearby. Trees surround this area, except for a wide and sandy beach to the east.
Trees tower over this area, their branches and leaves weaving a net that effectively blocks out the sun from penetrating. As a result, a thick gloom pervades the area, making the atmosphere eerie. Visibility is very low, but from what little there is, much can be discovered. Trees continue to the west, north and south, rising small hills and spilling down the backside just the same. To the east, however, the white sands of a beach beckon, and beyond that must be the ocean.
A pleasant breeze wafts through this region of forest, carrying the odor of salt and the sea with it as it blows inland from the east. The breeze ruffles the leaves and branches high up in the treetops, allowing light to spill down and illuminate this area brilliantly. Trees surround this place, in no discernible pattern, and continue over small hills to the north, south, and west. To the east, seagulls flock on a sandy beach, and beyond that appears to be the Trackless Sea that surrounds this island and isolates it from other land masses.
Light filters down through the treetops, illuminating this small hill and a small radius around it. Trees are everywhere, most of them mighty and tall, having lasted for centuries on end peacefully within this forest. All around is more forest, in each direction it seems endless. A warm breeze wafts through the area, bringing with it the pleasant smell of salt and the idea that a large body of water is nearby.
The undergrowth seems to pile up here along the ground, sitting in what little light is available as the overhead canopy once again blocks most of the view of the sky above. In all directions lies forested hills, some with less shrubbery than others, but all teeming with life. The smell of a swamp reaches your nose, but its faintness implies that the swamp is a long distance off.
Light filters down through the net of leaves and branches above, allowing for the illumination of this forest. Trees are scattered in close proximity to one another, making foot travel difficult in many directions, impossible in others. To all directions, the forest seems to extend for a long distance, with no end in sight.
This heavily wooded section of Gwynneth tops a small rise and spills down the back side unchanged. Shrubs dot the ground between trees, making travel a difficult proposition. The forest continues out of sight in every direction, save the south where it appears to lighten some in a short distance.
This appears to be a screening wall of trees, towering over the land but doing an excellent job blocking out whatever terrain lies to the west of here, which is as of yet unseen. Despite not seeing too far westward, the smell gives a pretty good idea that it is a marsh over the next few hills, as the swampy odor reaches even this remote location. A line of foothills rises to the east, and mountains tower over them to the south of that. To the north lies a dark forest.
The trees bunch close together here, defining a small clearing and paths out from it. The paths almost seem like they were set by druids to ease travel in this dark and murky forest. From the light above, you can see that paths lead off in all directions, but only to the west is there any clearing of forest. To the west, there is a swampy and marshy area, known as the Fens of the Fallon. Rumor speaks of a band of firbolgs who have claimed the swamps for their own, killing all outsiders.
This appears to be the edge of the treeline, as the forest that starts here runs only north, south, and east from this spot. To the west, the terrain drops and changes into a deep bog, slithering with unfriendly creatures and swarming with insects. In other directions, the forest darkens, making travel difficult due to a lack of sight.
The branches overhead interlock into a fine mesh, denying the light an opportunity to reach the ground here. As a result, only the gnarled trunks of trees and the sharp prickles of thorn bushes warn of solid objects ahead. From the sounds of the forest, it appears that this is nowhere near the edge, and the lack of light coming in from other directions seems to uphold that idea. The smell of a swamp reaches even to here, reassuring the knowledge that this forest is not endless.
The breeze shifts the overhead canopy of greenery, and sunlight filters down to allow a better view of the area. Trees are scattered everywhere in no discernible pattern, from large clumps to individual trees. Bushes and flowers sprout where there is room on the ground, and seem to grow rather well in the light available. The forest continues all around, darkening away from this place.
Signs of elven passage abound here at the edge of the forests. The wildlife is quieter here than in other places, signifying that other beings, more aggressive than most, pass through on a regular basis. The grass that sprouts between trees is trampled down in a few spots, with the footprints of elves quite easily seen among the dead plants. Finally, the great plateau on which the elves live rises to the north. However, the forest does continue for quite a distance in the other three directions.
The elven plateau looms above the tangled tree limbs to the north, blotting out the sun and sky over much of the area. The effect of the lack of light on this section of the forest is easily seen. Plants that cannot be found in other parts of the woods sprout here, and mushrooms dot the ground between the ancient trees. In all other directions, the forest continues, brightening as the land escapes the influence of the crags to the north.
The area darkens and a gloom seems to descend upon this place, as the forests of Central Corwell sprout up and cover the land in the absence of the nearby elven plateau. The trees almost seem to stare out into the air, as a powerful magic runs through the air, making the whole place seem sinister. Myrloch Vale, the ancient bastion of druid strength lies to the west, the elven lands of Synorria lie to the north and east, while the land descends into a murky swamp southward.
The forest lightens up to the west as the trees end and empty out into the swampy area known as the Fens of the Fallon. That firbolg stronghold is said to be one of the most unfriendly areas around. To the other directions on the compass lie dark and gloomy forest, like this patch here. Light filters down, revealing sinister looking trees and twisted plants, probably a result of the horrible terrain westward.
The forest here is twisted and dying, a result of the Fens of the Fallon that stream out west and south from this spot. The swampy air chokes the life out of the trees and plants, twisting them into terrible parodies of their former selves. Healthier forest lies to the east and north, away from the evil swamp and its influence.
Shades of green can be clearly seen through the gloom that pervades this part of Gwynneth's forests. Sunlight streams down through the canopy of leaves and branches above, illuminating clear and well-trodden paths through the forests in all directions. These paths, obviously painstakingly created, are clear signs that druids are about, making the life of the woods easier, and easing the passage of interlopers through them.
The forest tops a small rise here and stops, at the edge of an evil looking swamp. This bog, which lies to the south and west, appears to be infested with all the nasty creatures forced from the forest who managed to adapt to the rougher terrain. A firbolg patrol on the far horizon also appears quite threatening. The forest, meanwhile, lies to the east and north of here. It seems rather vibrant, and a far better looking choice than the badlands that lie nearby.
Water flows around here, ankle deep in most places, as this area degenerates into a swamp. All kinds of insects buzz around, many feeding on the flesh of travellers who wander through this zone. Small reptiles slither through the brackish water as well, making this place look, smell, and feel evil. The marsh continues to the south and west, but thick and healthy forest covers the land to the north and east. A plateau rises out of the northeastern forests.
Reeds lie here in the foot-deep water, trampled under by some massive force, probably a large creature like a firbolg. The swamp here tingles with the presence of something evil, but then again, most swamps do. The fens extend in all directions save east, where a hill rises and the verdant forests of Eastern Corwell rise.
Dark and murky waters swirl here, the undercurrent trying to drag everything down to a watery grave. Weeds and reeds sprout up through the water in a number of places, one of few things besides the firbolgs that can survive in this wasteland. The swamp itself seems to have been an effect of Bhaal's possession of the land many years ago, and its size is astounding. Looking about, the swamp appears to run in every direction.
A small hill literally drops from the forests around to the north and east into this murky swamp. The swamp itself is quite waterlogged, as the water extends up past ankle-deep close to a foot high in some places. The swamp itself wanders off the south and west. In the distance further into the swamp, the firbolg stronghold appears, a blackened ruin of masonry long ago leveled during the Darkwalker War.
Twisted plants, parodies of nature, sprout up through the brackish water that swirls up to a foot deep in some places. This swamp, which extends in the southern and western directions, has a stench of death and evil second to no other place upon this isle. Fortunately, healthy forests sprout up to the north and east over small rises, the healthy trees a bounty to weary and injured travellers.
Dark water swirls all around as the swamp flows in every direction from here, covering the land. No end to this wasteland is near, but a large forest, healthy and pure, sprouts up in the distance to the east. Looking about, there is little that is memorable about this landscape except for the firbolg stronghold in the distance, and the firbolg patrol on the horizon.
This appears to be some of the southern reaches of this wasteland, known as the Fens of the Fallon. All around are signs of a more normal land. To the east rises a strong and healthy forest, some of the backlands of Myrloch. To the west, over a couple of bogs, rises healthy fields and grazing lands of the Ffolk. And to the south, the Corwell Road can be seen, the thoroughfare of the land bringing hope to weary travellers. To the north, however, the mud and water slosh on, covering the land.
This appears to be the western edge of the marshes, as the land rises and dries over a hill to the west. This must be a narrow stretch of swamp, for healthy forest springs up to the east, bringing a surprising vitality to the land. To the north and south, however, brackish water and buzzing insects settle, making this a hostile wasteland. The swamp extends in both directions out of sight.
An evil odor pervades the area, a combination of the swamps, the creatures that live here, and firbolg droppings visible wherever the brutes chose to relieve themselves. This bog extends out well into the distance in every direction but west, where a series of low, grassy knolls makes excellent grazing lands for the herds of Ffolk shepherds. The sight of firbolgs on the horizon is enough to make anyone cringe, and flee when they turn this way.
This appears to be a crossroads of terrain types, as looking in different directions could give one a massively different idea of the terrain types of the island of Gwynneth. To the east rise the tall and majestic mountains of Eastern Corwell, their peaks covered in snow year round. To the north is the dark and eerie forests that the Llewyrr elves call home. And to the other two directions, as well as here, a festering bog rises and poisons the land on which it rests.
The mountains to the east drop off sharply and fall into this slimy mass of vines, reeds, and brackish water known more commonly as the Fens of the Fallon. A known firbolg stronghold, this area is considered one of the most dangerous places upon all of Gwynneth. To the south, the land dries out, becoming a grassy prairie before the Corwell Road and Llyrath Forest. To the north and west, however, the marsh deepens, and the swirling insect clouds get thicker, as mosquitoes eagerly await a feast upon any traveller who is foolish enough to wander their direction.
The brackish water here is filled with dead plants and animals, and the stench of death itself rides the air, sickeningly sweet, but reminding anyone of the fate that tends to meet everyone in these swamps. The marsh itself runs off to every direction save east, where the land rises and becomes more rocky as it approaches the towering peaks of the ranges of Eastern Corwell.
A dark and murky bog starts here, running off the edges of the mountain range to the east and settling over the lowlands that pervade the area. All around in the directions away from the mountains does this swamp fester, with biting insects and slimy lizards crawling through the murk. To the west, south and north, there appears to be no end to this wasteland in sight.
This appears to be the extreme edges of the Fens of the Fallon, a wasteland of sludge and muck that extends from here off into the distance northward and eastward. Also in the distance, the firbolg stronghold can be spied, a slag of long-ago melted rock that the giants cling to as their last home. Jealously guarding this area, they seek to prevent expulsion and exile from their last homeland. To the west and south, the land rises and dries out, and signs of cattle grazing on the open range are vast.
The brackish water swirls here, growing ever deeper as the ground beneath it gives way below the massive weight of the water pushing ever harder upon it. The swamp runs from here to the north, south, and east, weeds poking out through the water and serpents slithering along. To the west, the land seems far more healthy, as it appears to be excellent grazing lands for the animals that the Ffolk raise for meat. The rolling hills there wander off until they disappear into the horizon.
The dark and murky waters swirl around and around here, dragging small weeds and objects underneath and tearing them apart in the undertow. This environment continues out of sight in three directions, the wasteland running unabated towards the horizon. In the distance, a small stone fortress, its walls blackened by fire and time, stands as the bastion of giant strength. To the west, the land becomes more passable and healthy, and fences mark the edges of Ffolk grazing land.
Thick mud slows travel here for all those not used to travelling through these badlands that spread to the east, west and south. Serpents slither past, insects zip around through the air and arachnids crawl all over the place, making this one of the most uncomfortable spots on the islands. Well off into the distance, a firbolg patrol is visible, seeking intruders to kill and cook for dinner. To the north, a healthy and vibrant forest rises, the magical and mystical Myrloch Vale, forests that house the center of the druids, preachers of the Earthmother's faith.
The hills to the west drop sharply, dumping everything into this icky bog that covers the land with its ugliness and odor. The swamp continues from here to the south and east, towards a ruined fortress in the distance that may be inhabited by giantkind. To the west, the land rises into hills, prime grazing land for the livestock of the Ffolk who live in the region. To the north, the land rises into Myrloch Vale, a magical land tended by the druids, whose power is centered there.
This festering swamp spreads all about here, caking the ground in a foot or so of brackish and diseased water. Water snakes slither about on the surface, and flies buzz overhead looking for a tasty morsel of human flesh to sink their teeth into. The water ripples little other than for these pests, as most sane creatures have abandoned this wasteland to nature and moved to more hospitable terrain.
The slimy waters of the swamps here in the Fens of the Fallon flow about serenely, offering little resistance and hostility. The same, however, cannot be said for the Fen's inhabitants, the firbolgs, who ruthlessly butcher all intruders in an attempt to prevent their last homeland in Central Gwynneth from being taken away. The swamp spreads all around, except for the west, where a series of low, grassy hills rises and wanders away towards the horizon.
A murky swamp starts here, running to the north and east deeper into firbolg territory. A patrol of the brutes even now appears on the horizon, but they look another way for intruders, leaving this site safe for the moment. The lands of the Ffolk peasants rise to the south and west of here, green hills to the west for grazing and smooth fields to the south, in sight of the Corwell Road. The giants suddenly look this direction...
The swamp runs in every direction save south from this spot, flies circling in the air and swamp creatures skittering about through the brackish water. One of them slips and falls, and is quickly set upon by birds of prey, giving a cruel reminder of what happens to any who show weakness in the Fens. To the south, the land rises slightly and becomes far more fertile, where small farms of the Ffolk lie near the Corwell Road.
Stunted plants push through the surface of the inky water and make claim to what little nutrients are available from the foul-smelling air. The swamp here runs a distance to the north and east, without end in sight. Meanwhile, hills covered with healthy looking plants and trees dot the area to the south and west, and shepherds with their flocks are visible in the distance to those directions. A firbolg patrol appears on the horizon, searching for intruders into their lands. They turn and start this way.
Chilling water, two feet deep in places, settles over these lowlands and covers them without a speck of dry land in sight. Parodies of healthy plants push up through the water, reminding all that this is a festering swamp, and not healthy land such as lies to the south and west. The badlands here run to the north and east, towards the firbolg stronghold in the center of this cursed place, from where the giantkin keep watch over their borders.
These light fields are quite fertile, healthy enough to grow crops enough to provide for many hundreds of Ffolk. Stalks of grain wave back and forth in the light breeze that generates from the south. To the south, the Corwell Road crosses near this plot of land, an easy road to travel to access either Caer Corwell and its town, or to Kingsbay at the eastern end of the island. To the east and west lie more fertile fields, but to the north, the land drops into an ugly looking swamp, a barren wasteland inhabited by evil creatures.
Well trodden paths run between the rows of crops that grow in this field. Peasants tend the crops well, and the blessings of the Earthmother provide for a bountiful surplus of food, enough to sell to provide for the rest of the island and money for the hardworking Ffolkmen and Ffolkwomen. The land rises slightly to the south, where the Corwell Road runs over the site of Freeman's Down, a battlefield more than twenty years before in the Darkwalker War. In all other directions, fields of the peasants spread.
Gently rolling hills here provide a bountiful grazing land for the varied flocks of the area's inhabitants. The hills themselves have thick coatings of grass, enough to sustain many hundreds of livestock during the season ahead. To the north and west, the hills roll on, covering the land in shades of green, while to the south, a field of crops is tended by expert farmers. To the east, the land turns into a gloomy bog, overgrown with mire and waste, and patrolled by evil firbolgs.
These fertile fields are planted with crops essential to the survival of the Ffolk. Grains wave in the breeze, in orderly rows, as peasants tend to the foodstuffs growing in front of them. Nearby to the south runs the Corwell Road, an easy path to travel between the castle and the east coast of this island. To the other sides, the rich fields continue, all filled with growing crops.
The graceful towers of Caer Corwell look out over these fields and the peasants tending to their crops. This field is planted with maize, a crop not native to the islands but instead brought in from far to the west. The farmers carefully watch over these crops, learning their craft tending these plants which are so new to the area. Guard dogs march between the rows of crops, guarding the area from wolf attacks. To the south, the western end of the Corwell Road is visible, and travellers march back and forth over it. Beyond the road is a forest.
These small but grassy knolls are rich in grass, and make excellent feeding grounds for the flocks of the shepherds of the area. Even now, some sheep move towards the hill, carefully watched over by dogs and men. To the east, the land drops into a deep swamp, and a fortress is visible in the murk. In all other directions, fertile ground continues, with hills to the west and north, and fields rising to the south.
Gently rolling hills occupy this spot, just to the west and above the bogs known as the Fens of the Fallon. That wasteland runs towards the horizon, with the black mire only occasionally broken by a patch of ground on which giants patrol. To the north and south, this line of hills continues, while to the west, the knolls drop slightly as they head towards a forest.
These hills occupy a strategic position just west of the Fens of the Fallon, a swampy wasteland where only evil creatures lurk. This line of hills runs to the north and south, covered with thick clumps of grass on which sheep and cows graze even now. To the west, the land descends and enters the forest of Oakvale, a placid wood devoid of the evil beings that have set up shop to the east.
Flocks of sheep cover this hill, grazing on what grass is available here while they fatten themselves up in preparation for market and the dinner tables of various Folk. To the east and north, the land drops into a swampy mire, extending to the horizon and beyond. This mire is patrolled by giantkind, who protect their homeland vigorously, but do not disturb anyone outside it. To the west and south, the line of hills continues, paralleling the swamps that fester in the other directions.
The line of hills ends here, dropping off to the north and east into a mire of blacks and browns. The hills here, however, are quite healthy and vibrant, and the plentiful grass growing on them makes excellent food for the flocks of the peasants that live in this area. To the south, in the distance, are fields of waving grain, while the west houses the woods of Oakvale.
This is a grassy prairie, fenced off so that the flocks of different peasants do not intermingle. Hills rise to the east and north, but the smell of a swamp also comes from those directions. To the west and south, a calm forest rises, covering the land peacefully. The smell of salt also rides the air, competing with the odor of the swamp to make an interesting smell.
Gently rolling hills slowly give way to the encroaching forest to the west. The hills themselves are relatively smooth, barely rising ten feet above the ground, but nonetheless they are quite green and make excellent ground on which to graze animals. These hills continue to the north, south, and east, but not infinitely as a brown wasteland drops off beyond the eastern ridges. To the west, the silent sentry trees of Oakvale beckon travellers forward.
A series of low hills here gives way to fertile grasslands, unplanted as of yet this season. The hills around are rather unimpressive, but they have a thick covering of grass upon which hundreds of sheep feast for the moment. To the north, the prairie continues, left to nature to do with as she will. In the distance to the west, a forest rises beyond the hills.
These fields have been left unplanted, weeds and grass reclaiming the land in the name of the goddess Earthmother. All around is fertile land, some rising into low hills and ridges, others remaining flat and green. The sounds of contented livestock surround this area as the animals graze upon the plants of the area, fattening up for market. The distant smell of salt reaches even this remote place, meaning that the sea must be near.
This area is a cross between the gentle prairie and the low, grassy hills that dominate the region. Livestock wander about, carefully watched by various Ffolkmen and Ffolkwomen, peasants earning their livelihood shepherding the animals of the region. A calm and peaceful wood is in sight to the west. The combined odors of a swamp and the ocean ride the wind.
Low and grassy hills dot the area here, ending just to the north where a darkening forest lies. Sheep and cows graze the fertile but unplanted land while peasants keep watch for wolves and the like that might appear from the trees. The forest to the north is known as Oakvale, a generally quiet and calm place tended lovingly by druids. A salt breeze wafts through the area, keeping the temperatures moderate and adding an invigorating smell to the air.
The line of grassy hills ends here, dumping the land to the north and west into a bleak looking bog. Swarms of insects can clearly be seen near the edge of the swamp, feeding on the carcasses of dead animals. To the west and south, however, the land remains fertile hills, where even now livestock graze quite contentedly, watched over by the observing eyes of the Ffolk.
The hills and pastures start here and run off towards the north and east, the land rising and falling gently in those directions. The land itself is quite fertile, and livestock settle in many areas grazing off nature's bounty. To the west and south, a placid forest rises to cover the land. The forest only seems ominous in its silence, but does not look overly hostile.
The forests of Oakvale surround this lonely prairie, shielding it from most of the hostilities of this land. The distinct odor of a swamp reaches here, polluting the air with its noxiousness. Oakvale, which surrounds the pasture to the west, north, and south, is a quiet forest, lightly wooded, but peaceful and unthreatening.
The gentle grasslands of Southern Corwell make for easy travel and fertile grazing lands for the livestock of Ffolk peasants. These grassy lands, which rise into low hills nearby, run to the east and south for a distance. To the north and west, a dark forest rises to cover the land, known as Oakvale for its sturdy trees and comforting presence. The forest itself, while dark, is not a threatening or deadly place. The winds bring the odor of the ocean from nearby.
An east-west line of hills here parallels the putrid depths of the swamps known as the Fens of the Fallon. The swamp itself is a festering eyesore that runs towards the horizons in many directions. The low, grassy hills here run to the east and west along the swamp's edge, a line of demarcation of the borders between Ffolk grazing lands and firbolg territory. To the south, the placid forest of Oakvale rises, a sturdy wood that looks as if it has seen many centuries and generations of humankind.
These hills rise here and flounder towards the east, falling into a murky bog that covers the land. However, the Fens of the Fallon do not extend in any other direction but the east. Instead, the fertile grasslands and hills of the Ffolk rise, carefully used by peasants and farmers to produce valuable foodstuffs for the rest of the land. These grasslands extend for a distance before running into forests.
The forest of Oakvale borders this grassy pasture on the south and west sides, effectively blocking the land and line of sight in those directions. To the east, the fertile soil continues, rising and falling over low hills upon which livestock grazes even now. The trees of Oakvale appear to be little more than silent sentries for the eternal forest. The cry of a lone wolf splits the air.
This line of hills seems to run along the western border of the swamplands that house most of Gwynneth's remaining firbolg population. Gazing east over the desolate bogs, their collapsed fortress is in sight. In every other direction, however, the grassy hills continue, with bulls, cows and sheep munching contentedly on vibrant green grass. In sight on the western horizon is a line of trees that blocks out the view of whatever lies beyond.
This appears to be the edge of the fertile lands of southwest Corwell. To the east, the land drops into a desolate swamp, bereft of healthy plants and inhabited by evil creatures. To the north rises the trees of either Oakvale or Myrloch Vale, whose dividing line is indistinct. To the south and west lie the low grassy hills that dominate the region, serving only as a border from the other lands and grazing grounds for the large herds of animals that the folk of the region keep. The sickening smell of the swamp is enough to make even the strongest person gag. It is probably time to escape this cursed place.
This appears to be the extreme northwest section of the grassy prairie land that dominates southern Corwell. To the west and north, the silent trees of Oakvale and Myrloch rise to impede passage. To the other two directions, however, the grassy plain rolls on, covered at this moment in a sea of cattle grazing upon the land and fattening themselves up for market. The odor of salt arrives on the westerly breeze, implying that the ocean is nearby.
This appears to be the eastern border of Oakvale, but not quite inside its grasp as rocky grassland is the terrain type rather than the cool and dark forest that lies westward. In all other directions, the grasslands of southern Corwell roll on, covered in places by Ffolk and their cattle and alertly guarded by their shepherds from the threats of the woods. The cries of wolves on the hunt split the air, causing a shiver in even the hardiest soul.
This rocky hill signifies the end of the grasslands that run towards the north and east. Said grasslands are excellent grazing sites, some places even now being utilized by the livestock. To the west and south, the temperate forests of Oakvale beckon to travellers to rest on the damp soil beneath the shading trees. Looking deeper into the woods, it appears that a figure is visible, but only for a moment before he or she moves on.
This is the edge of a light section of woods that appears to parallel the coastline of western Gwynneth. The sun streams down through the wooded areas, as the distance between trees allows for the atmosphere above to soak down to this level. Birds chirp merrily, going about their daily duties and observing the eternal tide crashing against the rockface below and southward. To the east and north, the land clears into fields of grains expertly tended by the Ffolk farmers.
This appears to be a slim stretch of forest running along the northern shores of Corwell Firth, the harbor that serves the castle and town at its base. This appears to be the western edge of said bay, as the waves crash into the rockface from both the western and southern sides. The forests of Oakvale, meanwhile, run along towards the north and east, not very dense and well lit from the skies above. This seems a jolly and merry place, not at all like some of the more threatening areas of this island.
This forest is lightly wooded and well lit from the skies above, as the trees and other foliage do little to prevent sunlight from reaching here. To the north and south, this forest continues, also lightly wooded in its course. To the east, a series of low and grassy hills spots the area, the grasslands of western Corwell. To the west, however, the ground drops many hundreds of feet into the oceans more commonly known as the Straits of the Leviathan, named for the child of the goddess Earthmother that patrols that area of sea and devastates all evil there.
This appears to be the edge of a rockface that drops hundreds of feet into the churning waters below. Here, on top of the rockface overlooking the ocean, the light forests of Oakvale beckon all travellers to settle and stay a while. A clearing has even been created, ringed by twelve shrubs placed like points around a clock for keeping time. The forest itself wanders away towards the south and east, running down a short slope into another area of light trees.
A gentle wind rustles through the treetops, cooling the area and allowing the sky to be seen through the canopy of greenery above. The sunlight filters down to reveal a lightly wooded section of forest, with little or even no undergrowth in places to impede travel. This forest continues towards the north and west, from which directions the odor of salt and the sound of waves crashing against a cliff can easily be heard. To the east and south, gentle grasslands cover the land, and livestock on them, grazing under the watchful eyes of Ffolk.
The forest extends to this rocky outcropping overlooking the Straits of the Leviathan, gazing down as the waves attempt to bring the cliffs down with it into the water. With the waves crashing in from two directions, that coming down certainly seems a possibility in the not-so-distant future. Caution, then, would recommend travellers back away from this ledge, and move on into the light forests that run to the east and south. The eyes of a druid flash out from a tree, but only for a moment. Then they vanish back into the forest, leaving adventurers to their thoughts and journeys.
The forest here seems almost an extension of the grasslands to the south, as the floor of the woods is covered in spots by tall weeds. A careful path has been cut through the area, however, almost as if someone is encouraging any who go here to keep what plants around are alive. The trees are neither numerous nor densely packed, allowing the healthy atmosphere to sink down into this area. The trees themselves run off to the north, east, and west, with paths extending in each direction as well.
This is a light forest, the trees themselves wide spread here at the fringes of Oakvale. In fact, the foliage barely blots out the sky, as light streams down towards the damp earth, illuminating paths for all to see. The forest moves off towards the west, dropping towards a ledge under which the waves of the eternal ocean crash. The forest ends here, as the grasslands of western Gwynneth take over in other directions. Even here, the cloying odor of a swamp reaches, polluting the air.
Sparse trees cover the mossy floor of this wooded area. Sunlight streams down through the treetops at points, illuminating the area and creating a soft glow as it reflects off a small brook. The forest itself runs away to the north and west, thickening somewhat as it goes. To the other directions lies the grasslands and fields of the Ffolk, adequately tended by the peasants who earn their livelihood from the crops and livestock of the area. A westerly breeze brings in the odor of salt.
A small bay off the Straits of the Leviathan laps against the dirt floor of the dusky forest here, moistening the ground and making footing treacherous. The bay runs off towards the cool and refreshing waters further to the west, as the breeze from that direction clearly indicates. To the other directions, meanwhile, the forest continues on, the trees sparse but covering the land well enough in their own way. Here, a small ring of stones has been set into the ground, making it obvious that some intelligent being makes this his or her home.
This low hill is tree covered, this part of the forest seemingly thicker and more dense than the rest of Oakvale. This might be due to the fact that several of the ancient trees are arranged in a primitive ring, sort of a sign of druidic rites. This line of hills clears as it wanders off to the north and east, but a smell of something awful comes from there too. The forest descends slightly to the west and south.
This appears to be little more than a plain which is heavily covered by trees, although not dense enough to block out the light from above or to make travel any more difficult than on the hills that lie on the open land to the north. The brush underfoot is quite sparse, in fact nonexistent, because it appears that some human hand, probably a druid, has cleared the few shrubs to the bases of trees, where they will not be trodden upon. The forest itself continues to the west, south, and east, with clearly marked paths running in those directions.
The ground rises into a low series of ridges that end here, just over fifty feet above the reefs at the edge of the Straits of the Leviathan. The waters themselves slam into the cliff beneath, the eternal ocean attempting to reclaim all land for itself. Meanwhile, here on top of the ledge, a light forest sprawls about, trees clustered here and there in a haphazard fashion. Light flows down through the trees, illuminating the area enough to see. The forest itself runs in every direction save towards the waters.
The fringe of Oakvale pushes out towards the grassy plains of Gwynneth, cutting a wide swath into an otherwise open field. The forest itself is rather light, with only a few clusters of trees packed close together in spots to impede passage. These trees, mostly oaks and elms, parallel the fertile fields of the peasantry, running to the west and south. Those fields, which lie to the east and north, are currently covered in a swarm of livestock, as cows and sheep take their fill under the watchful eyes of the Ffolk. A salty breeze whistles through the region, and a hawk circles overhead, observing all beneath it.
The muddy soil underfoot makes travel difficult in this section of Oakvale, running right along the edge of the Strait of the Leviathan. The trees here are clustered into a number of small groups, the overall effect of which is to form a giant ring, as if the druids of the area wanted to use this as some sort of meeting place or intend to use the trees as a prison for beings later on. The forest itself is relatively clear of brush, with most of it growing safely underneath trees. The forest itself runs off toward the north, south and east.
This narrow strip of forest runs between the grasslands of the Ffolk and the eternal ocean to the west. The forest itself is light, and comfortably cooled by the sea breeze blowing in off the waters westward. Elms and oaks seem to have been littered seemingly at random here, as there are neither heavy concentrations nor a lot of organization to how the trees are laid out here. An owl directs his gaze downward, taking in all beneath as the silent sentinel of Oakvale.
The forests of Oakvale wander up the side of a hill and spill down the far side of it, perilously close to the unstable ledges that teeter over the waters of the Trackless Sea to the west. This is a narrow strip of forest, made up mostly of loose clusters of stately oak and elm trees. Sunlight streams down, revealing a general dirt trail running to the north and south. The land clears to the east, revealing a fertile prairie, the tall grass waving in the breeze.
This appears to be the meshing point of two diametrically opposed forests. Starting here, and running to the south are the placid oaks and elms of the forest of Oakvale, stately and serene. To the north, the trees bunch closer together, the area darkens, and the land itself takes on a more sinister mood as Myrloch imposes itself upon Gwynneth. The howls of wolves reverberate through the dark forests northward. To the east lies fertile grasslands, while the ocean crashes into the rocky shore to the west.
The waves crash against the cliffside, sending tremors through the rock that lies here beneath the trees of Oakvale. These trees are serene and widespread, allowing the sky to literally meet the forest at the treetops. The line of trees runs off the north and east, uninterrupted past what limited horizon is visible. To the other two directions, the ocean continues its relentless assault upon the land.
This small hill at the edge of the treeline overlooks a shallow bay that connects via a small creek to the Straits of the Leviathan. The trees behind are quiet and peaceful, and birds chirp merrily from many a branch while the squirrels play and mate. The trees themselves run to the east and north, while the aforementioned bay lies southward. The Straits themselves flow by to the west.
The area here seems overly peaceful and quiet, as if the beings that lived on this land were preparing for an ambush. Trees gather close together, not quite darkening the area entirely but choking off the light to a few isolated sections of the land. In the fading light from above, it appears that the treeline extends in every direction save east, where a rocky series of hills drops out of sight.
The trees of the forest close in around this area, their branches and leaves overhead combining to cut off almost all light from the region. In the dim glow, very little can be seen, but enough to avoid the myriad obstacles in the path. Rocks jut out of the ground in many places, at odd angles, looking to trip and cut the unwary traveller. Trees are scattered in some sort of random fashion, making it difficult to walk more than a few paces in any direction. In every direction, the darkness deepens, making one wonder what evil lurks out there.
The forest here wanders in sight of the elven lands of Synorria, a towering plateau surrounded by a deep and rapidly flowing river. To the south, where the plateau lies, the river drops into a sharp gorge, promising death for any who foolishly wander too near to its sides and fall in. All other directions lead deeper into the Winterglen, a peaceful forest, but too quiet and hinting at deadly ambushes and traps for the unwary. A mist seems to rise from the ground, obscuring vision and adding to the chilling atmosphere.
The forest thins out here, approaching the rocky shore to the east. Looking out in that direction, the blue waters of the Straits of Alaron are clearly visible to the naked eye. In all other directions, the forest continues from this hardy region known as the Winterglen to the wondrous Aspenheight forest, a gift from the Llewyrr elves to the druids and people of the isles long ago, in an age of yore. Eyes seem to flash from the trees, and voices appear to be muttering, but it's probably an overwrought imagination and the salt breeze playing tricks with the mind.
The forest darkens somewhat, as the branches of the trees overhead weave together in a complicated formation to block out almost all of the sunlight. However, this darkness is partially compensated by the runes carved into the sides of some of the trees, glowing faintly and radiating an aura of power. Feeling uneasy, and glancing about, there seems to be no exit from this spooky and dangerous forest; in fact, the darkness only gets worse in all directions save north, where another forest awaits.
These gloomy woods seem to go on almost forever, as trees and shadows are everywhere one looks. The branches overhead form a fine mesh that traps most of the light, preventing it from hitting the ground. As a result, the senses of sound and touch are vital to one's safety here, as the only warning of an ancient and gnarled oak tree is the pain of touching its rough bark. Glancing about, the forest seems to continue forever, although it does lighten up a little bit to the north, where the trees appear to be more vibrant.
This is the edge of the treeline of the Winterglen, opening out onto a vista of the Elven homeland of Synorria. Synorria itself is a plateau, towering high above the hill on which this sight is presented. Archers and cavalry of the elves scurry along the top of the rockface, guarding the plateau from any non-elven beings, since those are not welcome. Glancing about at the rather mundane surroundings (at least compared to the elvish homeland), the forest around seems to run on for a distance in all directions. It also grows darker in every other direction as well.
This is where the Winterglen meets the ocean, here on the rocky southern shores of the Strait of Oman. The far horizon is blocked out by the glare of the sunlight off the waters and the haze that seems to rise up out of nowhere. The Winterglen, which here is a murky forest, covered in inky blackness, runs in all other directions, the light neither increasing nor decreasing, and quite alarmingly quiet, as if the residents of the area were preparing an ambush of some sort.
This appears to be the edge of the Winterglen, sitting astride the northern border of the Synorrian elves. All around, light forest covers the land, with stately elms and oaks bunched up around the area. The forest continues in all directions save the southern one, where the plateau lies. From the sights and sounds of the area, it appears that the forest continues a while. A white hawk circles in the sky, almost observing all that happens beneath it, a spy for the druids that tend the area.
This appears to be a small corner of the Winterglen, a lightly wooded region that covers much of the northeastern part of the isle of Gwynneth. All about, it appears the forest continues, from the obvious parts of the Winterglen to the north and east, to darker and more sinister looking trees to the west. To the south, the land opens up before a mountainous peak, the Synorrian Plateau towering over much of the area and blotting out the landscape. Even now, elves keep watch over this area, searching for intruders and defilers of the forest.
The waters of the Strait of Oman lap against the shore of the Winterglen here, turning the soil underfoot to mud and making travel rather difficult. The Strait itself runs east and west along the northern coast of Gwynneth here, following every bend and turn of the coastline and running northward out of sight over the distant horizon. In every other direction, the Winterglen seems to continue for a distance, the large number of trees combining to limit the view to a few hundred yards, but without further light in those directions, it appears that the forest must indeed go on. Rising out of the darkness to the south is a large mountain, imposing itself upon the forests of this region.
The Winterglen ends here, opening up towards varied landscapes to the west and north. To the west, the forest changes, becoming dark and sinister as the forests of Myrloch approach. To the north, the trees disappear entirely, as a broad area of lowlands empties towards a town and further into the oceans that surround this island. To the east and south, the light forest that pervades this land continues, the elm trees standing stately in a hodgepodge fashion. It might be imagination, but a plateau seems to be floating above the treeline, reaching to the clear skies above.
A pleasant salt breeze rustles through the majestic aspen trees that cover the low and rolling hills of northeast Gwynneth. This forest seems almost magical, as the presence of large amounts of the rare elvish aspens seems to demonstrate. All around are signs of elvish or druidic presence: precisely arranged plants, a circle of stones, even the birds circling overhead, keeping a wary eye on the landscape below them. The aspen trees extend to the east, north, and west, while the forest lightens somewhat and changes over to sturdy oaks and elms towards the south, those being the trees of hardy Winterglen.
The beautiful trees of Aspenheight ascend a low hill here and drop off on the far side over one hundred feet and into the Straits of Alaron. The blue waters of the eternal ocean flow out towards the horizon, and disappear into the haze that gathers there. To the north and west, the lines of aspen trees continue, waving softly in the breeze. Birds circle warily overhead, resenting the intrusion of others into their land. To the south, the land clears, and a long and winding beach stretches out into the distance.
A small dwarven village emerges from the forest here, well concealed by the surrounding areas by the thick groupings of trees and the tangled underbrush that lies hereabout. The hardy folk scurry everywhere, going forth and taking care of a thousand daily tasks that need taking care of. The forests of this region of Gwynneth sprawl all about, trees waving in the salty breeze that reaches even here and brush carefully arranged so that paths are visible in the darker areas of the forests which surround this peaceful village. Funny, it doesn't seem like dwarves to live in the forest, but this variety of the short folk seem to be quite at home here.
This appears to be a small grove of aspen trees along the coast of a small bay just off the Straits of Oman. The grove itself is connected to Aspenheight Forest by a narrow corridor of trees to the north and east, and borders the darker and gloomier Winterglen to the south. Looking out across the gently rolling waves of the bay, northmen ships are a frequent sight, as the allies of the Ffolk ply the waters that are so near to their hearts. A seagull overhead shrieks angrily, and soars off away from this locale.
This is a low hill, covered densely with beautiful aspen trees and looking out towards the Straits of Oman and the settlement of Codscove across the bay below. The gentle waves lap against the rocks beneath, but do not seem hostile as the eternal ocean often is. Turning inland, the forest of Aspenheight runs in all directions, the ground dropping somewhat as it heads inland. The land is covered entirely by aspens, gifts from the elves in an age long past. Paths lead in all directions, carefully marked and lightly travelled. Druidic runes blaze from the nearby trees, indicating that these woods are not as abandoned as they seem.
This appears to be a dark and dense part of Aspenheight, which sprawls about this area for some distance. Sounds of other sentient beings reverberate all around, gruff voices clearly heard, but from some unknown direction. The aspen trees which rise overhead block out much of the sunlight, making this area seem dark and sinister like many other forests here on the isle of Gwynneth. The leaves rustle under the sounds of heavy footfalls, and it appears that ambush seems a likely possibility for those travelling here. Shadows seem to close in on this locale, but then the wind rustles the branches of the overhanging trees back to more customary positions, and the area lightens somewhat.
A thick canopy of leaves overhead shelters much of the forest of Aspenheight from the burning sun overhead. A slight breeze reaches this spot, cooling down the woods and allowing sunlight to stream through displaced leaves overhead. Paths lead off into the forest in all directions, expertly marked between large clusters of elvish aspen trees, gifts from the rulers of Synorria. A dark figure seems to stand on one of the paths, but at another glance, he or she is gone, vanished into the woods.
This section of the Aspenheight woods overlooks the ocean, looking out onto sparkling aquamarine waters that glisten in the sunlight. Here is a shaded viewing area, under a grove of ancient aspen trees. This appears to be a home of some sort, as a ring of stones around a well-used firepit indicates that someone or something uses this spot regularly as a camping site. The forest itself disappears into darkness to the west, and follows the coastline to the north and south. The east contains only the waves, and whatever might lie underneath them.
This is the northeast tip of the island of Gwynneth, a land under the crown of Calidyrr where the Kendricks rule from. Inland lies a pristine forest, made up entirely of ancient aspen trees that may have seen the elves upon their arrival here, many millennia ago in the ancient days of this world. Away from shore is the Trackless Sea, with the Straits of Alaron that separate this isle from the land of the crown to the east, and heading southward parallel to the forests to the Straits of Oman, across which lies a domain of the northmen. Waves crash towards the cliffs on which this forest lies from the east, but the waters northward seem quite calm and placid in comparison.
A pleasant breeze blows off the waters of the Trackless Sea to the north and into the forested hills of Aspenheight behind. The forest itself, consisting entirely of ancient elvish trees that might have been planted individually by the first beings to step foot on this island, is a panorama of great beauty, a gift long ago to those who live here now. These days, the druids tend these forests as lovingly as the elves before them. The forest itself spreads out to the west, south, and east, with clearly demarcated paths in each direction. A number of animals watch closely, showing signs of intelligence as they observe all travellers who trek within their lands. Mayhaps they are the druids, spying on others in less obvious forms.
The forests of Aspenheight end here, as the land falls away into the waters of the Trackless Sea to the north. Even now, a breeze blows off the crystalline waters and rustles the leaves of the trees of Aspenheight. Carefully marked paths wind into the woods to the east, west, and south, running away from any undergrowth or scattered plantings of wildflowers. A longship appears in the haze on the northern horizon, a northman vessel sailing for home on one of the many islands that dot the ocean in this region of the world.
This low tree-covered hill overlooks the Straits of Oman and a small bay that leads inland towards the scattered villages of Northern Corwell. These waters occupy most of the area to the north and west of here, preventing easy passage in those directions. Passage to the south and east, however, into the woods of Aspenheight, are not a problem, especially since druids have cleared wide paths for any and all travellers, running well away from rare plants and flowers but allowing the shade of the aspen trees overhead to block the burning midday sun from adventurers' heads. Even now, it appears that a druid observes this group, as her youthful figure can be seen between two tall aspens. As she realizes that she is not alone, she melts into the shadows and is gone.
This is a dark and threatening wood, where the trees bunch close together and vines seem to hang off of them, reaching down as if to pluck up unwary travellers and little children and eat them for lunch. Actually, the woods are not that dark and evil, they just appear that way because of the lack of light and the mist that seems to come up out of nowhere and hovers up to about waist high on a sturdy dwarf. This forest continues to the east, but not to the south, where the trees spread out some and sunlight can be seen; obviously that is by far a different woodlands zone. To the west and south, the shifting waters of the Straits of the Leviathan smash into the shore, the sounds of the waves blotting out even the eerie howling of the wolves of the Vale.
The lurking trees of Myrloch Vale seem to close in upon this area, as if nature were attempting to cut this place off from more peaceful and fun-looking lands, like the pastures and hills to the south. The trees here loom overhead, blocking out much of the light and making it difficult to see, even through the glowing mists that rise from the ground somehow. In the faint light, this forest seems to go on for quite a bit in every direction save south, where the aforementioned meadows lie. A flock of birds flies overhead, as if outsiders being here bothered them too much to hang around.
This is the edge of an inlet from the Trackless Sea, a small bay of water flowing in from the west and disappearing into the inky darkness that settles under the trees here in Myrloch. The trees overhead block out most if not all the light, and as such the only visibility in the area comes from the silver runes carved into the sides of the trees here by the venerable druids who watch over the wild areas of Gwynneth. The continuation of darkness off into the distance in every direction save west implies that the forest runs further past the line of sight.
The sounds and smells of livestock reach here, the southern edge of Myrloch, that enchanted forest that covers much of Western Corwell. The cattle, which occupy some of the grassy fields to the south, are expertly tended by the Ffolk herdsmen and herdswomen. Once out of the fields and into the forest, however, the light drains from the air, replaced by darkness, gloom, and a feeling of ancient magics scattered throughout the air. It's almost as if some legendary sorcerer walked the lands again, or had enchanted them long ago. The line of darkness extends into the distance to the north, east, and west, where the tall and stately trees continue their silent vigil over the land.
The air itself seems to darken and thicken as the treeline high overhead cuts off this area of Myrloch from the rest of the world. Light barely seeps through the canopy and barely illuminates the area, while nary a breeze can get through the thickness of the woods, allowing the air to become stagnant and quite uncomfortable. Animals stir in the stifling atmosphere, moving about quite noisily. The forest runs in every direction from here, tangled bushes and shrubbery making even those paths difficult, as if the forest were trying to draw in wanderers for evil purposes.
This appears to be the edge of a line of dark and foreboding trees that lies on the northern edge of the foul swamps of central Gwynneth. The evilness of that swamp seems to infest even here, where the trees hunch close together, blocking out both the light from above and any refreshing breeze that might come in from another direction. The trees extend each direction but south, disappearing into darkness a short walk from this spot. The sounds of nature are alive around here, indicating that while this forest does not look to be very friendly, nor is it a perversion of nature. That means druids must be about, tending the land and hunting desecraters.
The dark and gloomy air here at the southern edge of Myrloch is almost thick enough that it could be sliced, wrapped, and marketed. A foul smell pervades the air, probably a result of the festering swamp lying just downhill to the south of here, a known lair of the giantkin firbolgs who occupy this part of the island. The lack of light in the area is responsible to the thickness of the covering leaves on the trees that tower skyward. The darkness in all other directions save south probably attests to the fact that this forest extends quite a distance in all directions. A soft blue glow emanates from a few trees as runes carved into their bark let off a soft glow, indicating druidic magic is present.
This is a dark and mysterious forest, the air almost humming with ancient magics that the druids practice to keep this forest as it currently is. The air itself, however, seems to swallow up all the light, making it exceedingly difficult to see the path below. The darkness continues to the west and north, while the skies lighten to the east, as a less dense forest covers the land in that direction, seeming not nearly as sinister as the woods here. To the south rises a brackish swamp that disappears over the horizon, with a cold and gray fortress rising up out of it.
This part of the forest is cloaked in darkness and gloom, seemingly rising out of nowhere but giving this area a unique character. All around, nature continues to go about its merry way, seemingly unaffected by the atmosphere of evil and power about. To the east, the treeline breaks, with a gently flowing river and bridge in sight, and beyond that a cave in the side of some rockface. Nature seems far more cheery over there, but the land itself seems to have a different hostile presence of some sort. The forest, meanwhile, leads off to the west, south, and north, the darkness deepening as it goes.
A deep silence falls upon the central portion of Myrloch Vale, accompanying the ever-present gloom and darkness. The area itself is faintly lit by druidic runes that beckon from the trees, keeping the forest vibrant year round. In the faint glow, very little is visible, but it is evident that this forest continues for some distance in every direction. Underbrush tangles the ground, making travel difficult, and vines drape from the trees, forming thick curtains of plant life around some trees. All in all, this part of the forest looks like an ancient bastion of druidhood, here since the first elves stepped foot upon Gwynneth.
Silence descends upon the darkness of Myrloch Vale as it wanders here into a small depression in the earth, surrounded by a ring of charred stones that have piles of ashes in the center. The signs of a recent camp can be seen, and scattered pieces of camping equipment can be found around as well, but there is no sign of the traveller who used this site, nor of which direction he went. The whole scene looks spooky, as if the forest simply swallowed up someone. Looking for a way out of this evil and forsaken place, the trees seem to hunch in upon this spot. Nothing but this dark landscape awaits wanderers in all directions from here.
This appears to be the edge of Myrloch Vale, as it empties out onto a small stream to the east that runs by a series of rising cliffs that mark the borders of the elven homeland. All around the forest, however, the air appears thick and the trees themselves seem to drain the vibrancy and light out of the air. Brush-clogged paths seem to lead off towards other sections of this forest, to the south, west, and north, but they appear to suffer from a lack of use and attention, making one wonder exactly what or who does live around here and what they do for a living.
The dark forest surrounds this area, darkness and gloom creeping in from all directions and barely any light to see by. Unlike parts of these woods, there are signs of life here, as swarms of mosquitoes circle overhead, looking for sustenance in this cursed place. Narrow paths lead through the underbrush that grows thickly here, appearing as if it was trampled by some large animal. Even now, a crashing sound emanates from the brush about, and a guttural growl can be heard through the forest. Myrloch itself spreads out and about, reaching to the limits of vision and beyond.
The dark forests of Myrloch extend a distance in all directions from here, blocking out all the light above and forcing travellers to rely upon the soft blue light that druidic runes let off from trees and rocks. The ground itself is covered in rotting vegetation and a thick growth of moss. The vegetation itself, or what is left of it, seems to be trodden upon in some places, which is a sign that these woods are not fully desolate and abandoned. A sharp crack sounds from deep within the woods, making the small animals that nest here quite uneasy as they scamper into deeper hiding places.
Eerie forest stretches out all about, underneath the rich and full canopy of the ancient trees of Myrloch. Very little light seeps in through the cover above, but that is enough to see the sights around. Large clumps of tangled vines and thorn bushes lie scattered across the ground, almost uprooted as if some massive force ripped them out of the damp earth beneath. Much of the plant life on the ground here has been trampled as well. The forest itself spreads out, reaching the short limits of sight in the darkness.
The harsh cry of seagulls and the incessant lapping of the blue waters of the Trackless Sea make a welcome change from the darkness and gloom of Myrloch that lies eastward and to the south. The waters of the ocean run off into the distance to the north and west, disappearing into the haze that sprouts up many miles from the coast. As a counterpoint to this picture, the forest of Myrloch lies in the other directions, its tall trees imposing a sense of dark and quiet majesty upon the land beneath it. Barely any sounds come from the woods, which is almost enough to make one question if anything actually lives in that cursed place.
Scant light illuminates this section of the eastern border of Myrloch Vale, a dark and mysterious forest that seems at times to be deserted and untouched by anything. To the east, a broad but slow-moving stream trickles down from the rocks of a giant plateau, and merges with a river flowing to the south. Myrloch itself runs to the south, north, and west, darkening as it moves inland and away from the plateau. Underbrush clogs the ground, fighting for every square inch of space in which to grow and flourish. Some of the underbrush has been trampled down recently by some large weight, and a growl erupting through the woods makes one wonder exactly what does live here, and how it hides itself from being seen.
The forest here is rather dark, as the thick canopy of the ancient and gnarled trees overhead works to dim this area so that very little can be seen. A thin dusting of fallen leaves and other greenery dots the ground, with twigs in the covering as well, making it impossible for one to move quietly in this region. To further accentuate that point, a large SNAP comes from the distance indicating the presence of some large forest denizen out and about, probably hunting for sustenance. To all directions, the forest seems to run on forever, resulting in the fact that each direction looks like the rest of the others.
The drone of many hundreds of insects drowns out all else in this region of Myrloch, both increasing the difficulty of concentration and disorienting all in the area, the small forest animals included. Where this droning is coming from cannot be told, it seems as if insects have laid siege to this area. Further making travel and/or life difficult here is that the dark woods seem to extend forever, as in all directions the trees and the thick undergrowth run on as far as one can see (which isn't far). The only sign that this spot is any different from all the rest is the glowing symbol emblazoned into a nearby tree.
The sounds of Myrloch, which starts here and leads off every direction but west, are drowned out by the roar of the eternal ocean, one of the few forces even more powerful than the druids or the forests here. Seagulls screech in the skies overhead, searching for prey in the treetops above. The forest itself is a dark and dreary place, with low visibility and a great number of hazards including all its natural predators. To the west, one can enjoy a thousand foot plus drop into some jagged reefs already bloodstained with the insides of a shark that swam too close to shore.
The edge of the forest lies here, ending just a few steps eastward. In that direction, the legendary elven lands of Synorria beckon the reckless and the foolish, for it is well known that the elves have zero tolerance for outsiders, and prefer to do their interrogations and interviews at sword point. Even now, many sentries observe this region of the forest from the sanctuary of the top of the plateau. To the other directions, a dark and gloomy forest covers the land, mists rising to shroud most of it from the line of sight. Growls and roars come from somewhere within the woods, setting everyone's nerves on edge and making more than one frightened adventurer reconsider the wisdom of coming to this cursed land.
A narrow hunting track, slightly worn from a number of creatures treading upon it, winds its way through the forest here, disappearing suddenly as it rounds a tree. What humanoids could possibly exist to use said track is a mystery, as it appears that the only living beings here are the bugs and other forest creatures that call this wooded area home. Even now, a throaty growl erupts from some nearby bushes, sending a small flock of birds scurrying for cover in the higher branches of some overhead trees. The forest itself extends in all directions, and without any true cover from the denizens of Myrloch, where can an intruder run and hide from what must be in that bush?
The forest hunches in around here, blocking off much of the light and fresh atmosphere healthy territory should seem to have. The air is stagnant and has an odor of something decaying, as if a fresh kill were left out a few days too long for the carrion and insects of the region to get their diseased parts on. The smell itself is quite nauseating, and makes concentration and thought quite difficult tasks to perform. The forest itself seems endless, and does quite a job blocking off exit from this place, but small gaps in the clusters of trees exist in all directions.
Unlike most of the rest of the vale, this section of Myrloch is sparsely wooded, but that might be an effect of approaching the Strait of the Leviathan to the west of here. The azure waters of the Strait sparkle in the sunlight, and extend north and south along the coastline of the forest, and west as far as the eye can see. To the north, south, and east, the forest grows thicker as it moves inland, the trees bunching together in clumps and blocking many possible paths. From inland as well come sounds of animal and insect activity.
The eastern edge of Myrloch Vale is rather dark, even though the treeline ends a short distance away. This darkness is a combination of the thick canopy overhead and the mists rising from the ground seemingly out of nothing. To the east and beyond the trees is a mist-enshrouded mountain, with a creek running alongside it. That must be none other than the Elvish kingdom of Synorria, and the cave in the bottom of it either an entrance or a deathtrap. Turning focus back to the forest, it is rather dark and humid in here. Insects buzz about, looking for food, while the animals who are awake this time of day move about rather noisily. The forest continues to the north, west, and south.
The forest here seems to tingle with a faint amount of magical energy, very much evidenced by the brilliant blue runes glowing from some of the older trees that make up this section of woodlands. The trees of Myrloch Vale surround this zone on three sides, leaving the north side alone as a more sparse forest that seems less sinister but more magical than here. To the north then, must be the grove of the Grand Druid of all the Isles. That druid is not one to tangle with or intrude upon, as she probably wields enough power to incinerate the whole vale, let alone a few intruders. Myrloch spreads itself elsewhere.
This section of Myrloch Vale seems uncommonly bright compared to the other sections, but that might be explained by the glow emanating from the trees to the north. In fact, once one looks at it, the trees and forest to the north seem nothing like the ancient and sinister trees of Myrloch that lie here and extend to the other three directions. It would almost seem as if there is some sort of magical presence to the north that is a bit more benevolent in some ways. Despite that feeling, that grove to the north seems strangely deserted, as if even the animals of Myrloch fear to tread there.
This corner of the forests of Myrloch Vale simmers with unreleased magical energy that seems to have its source somewhere nearby. Other than that, the only thing of note seems to be that the forests to the north and northeast are of a type different than the gnarled trees towering overhead here and in the other directions, being those trees that make up Myrloch Vale. To the north and northeast seems a friendlier area, whose aura almost seems to be of a nice and forgiving nature. The creatures around here, however, seem to mistrust that aura and the woods to the north, and give it a wide berth. Off in the distance, the sound of running water is prevalent.
This appears to be a narrow swath of gnarled trees situated between the rather placid grove of the Grand Druid of the Isles to the west and the open lands surrounding the mountainous elvish kingdom of Synorria to the east. The trees here seem primarily to bunch together in tight clusters, almost as if they had concerns of keeping their identity against the rest of the forests. This swath of forest runs north to south, alongside the two other types of terrain previously mentioned. All is quiet in this area, too quiet for such an ancient forest that certainly should have many creatures about this time of day.
This appears to be the edge of Myrloch Vale, as it empties out onto flat grasslands and small farmsteads to the north and east. The rumble of the surf pounding against distant shore indicates that this is probably Northern Corwell nearby, a land cohabited by Northmen and the Ffolk from the south. The forest that borders this land is still Myrloch Vale, however, and the people working nearby give it a wide berth, believing the land to be haunted to a lesser extent. The ancient and slightly magical woods trail off to the south and the west, seemingly growing in strength from proximity to some central source of power.
A small wooded hill rises out of Myrloch Vale, overlooking the eastern shores of the Trackless Sea as it approaches the Straits of the Leviathan, which even now crash against the craggy rockface. This hill appears to be the sentinel edge of the ancient forest, which spreads away to the north and east from this locale. From this vantage point, a silvery lake is visible in the distance, inside a small grove that is well tended. Inside the rest of the aged forest, life goes on as normal, the sounds and smells indicating nothing out of the ordinary happening today.
This appears to be a narrow stretch of forest between a healthy little grove of some powerful druid to the east and the ocean to the west. In fact, the earth here is not packed dirt but instead rather sandy, which probably explains the sorry state these trees overhead are in. Many of them appear like they are dying slow, tortured deaths as they find nutrients a tough thing to earn from the earth. Even now, the ocean slowly eats away at what ground is left, threatening to topple trees into the water. To the east, all seems quiet, with the notable exception of a human hard at work. To the south, a low growl reverberates through the forest that also leads northward.
This appears to be the northern fringe of a small self-contained grove that sits in the middle of Myrloch Vale. The Vale, being the forest all about, is an ancient wood of gnarled trunks towering hundreds of feet skyward. These scatter about in every direction but south, where a smaller grove of younger looking trees seem carefully arranged and lovingly tended. With the forest extending in all directions out of sight, this area looks much the same. The only thing out of the ordinary seems to be a lack of sound coming from the forest about. All the animals must be asleep or something.
Overlooking the northern end of the Strait of the Leviathan, this rocky beach is home to the fringe of the forests of northwest Gwynneth. Except for the fact that waves slam into the cliffs just a scant few feet beneath, it seems that flat mossy land covered with ancient trees would not be out of place in this picture instead of the water. To all other directions, twisted and tortured trunks weave their way into a verdant tapestry, obscuring much of the forest and sheltering its animals. Even now, some of those animals must be on the hunt, for howling and roars interject their music into the melody of the woods. The forest extends to the east, south, and north.
The trees of Myrloch surround this small clearing within the woods, hiding it from the eyes of the peasant folk working fields just a short distance to the north, outside the edge of the vale. Inside this clearing is a small circle of stones arranged as if a firepit, but it seems that no fire has ever been lit here despite constant use of the rocks. A small trail wanders into the forest to the south, while the fringe of the woods continues along a general east-west line. To the north, the land clears into small fields and grasslands along gently rolling hills towards the distant coastline.
This section of Myrloch Vale seems to be little more than a small copse of trees along the borders of lands occupied by humanoids instead of untended nature overrun by animals. To the east and south, small streams mark the borders of Synorria, a land of hostile elves who shoot first and ask questions later. To the north, rolling hills and fertile grasslands appear to be prime land for the livestock of the Ffolk of Northern Corwell. To the west, trees hunch over the land, emanating a slight mist that blurs everything a short distance away and obscures vision.
Forest spreads all about from here, the tall trees blocking out much of the light and making it difficult for one to see very far. From what can be seen, this area is relatively clear of underbrush, most of it having been trampled into the dirt relatively recently, implying that some large animal is out and about in this area. The gloomy woods extend every direction except west, where the trees thin and the atmosphere lightens as the area opens up a little bit into a druid's personal grove. The only sounds here right now are the hum of insects circling about, looking for sustenance of some sort (probably a corpse from some creature's fresh kill). The forest extends in all four compass directions, with the druid's grove to the west.
The forest thins dramatically here as it approaches some of the open lands near the northern coast of Gwynneth. Instead of the vast bunches of twisted trunks that make up most of Myrloch Vale, this region is only sparsely dotted by trees, barely enough to call a forest. To the west, this thins even more, as the forest is replaced by a small grove of trees carefully pruned by the Grand Druid. To the north and south, the twisted trunks of the vale continue. To the east, grassy land replaces Myrloch Vale, and the sounds of livestock grazing contentedly can be heard.
The ocean to the west has turned this region of the forest into a giant mud pit, causing all who trod here to take extra care lest they become lifelong residents of the soil that they may grow like the enormous trees that blot out the sky overhead. This coastline extends to the north and south, rising a bit into craggy hills that overlook the Trackless Sea. To the east, the trees become less dense and healthier looking as they spread into a small grove that appears to be the home of a powerful druid. Here, even, the signs of the druids that tend this isle are obvious, as a carving in the side of one of the trees glows with a soft, blue light.
This small craggy hill juts out far over the water, precariously holding its ground against the relentless assault of the eternal ocean that attempts to drag it down into the depths. This hill is heavily wooded with thick brush clogging the available footpaths, making this area of Myrloch Vale that much more dangerous. Small trails are visible through the wood to the east and south, but anyone attempting to move in the other directions would need a boat or more to avoid plunging to their death in the icy currents or along the sharp, coral reefs. The cry of an albatross shatters the silence, causing many small animals to scurry for cover in one of many holes in the moist earth.
Towering trees soar over the murky land here, monoliths of an ancient time keeping silent sentry over the land known as Myrloch. Their thick and leafy canopies, blocking out the sunlight, work with the mists rising up from the ground to make travel treacherous in the near darkness. To the east, west, and north, these sentinels observe the passing of all on this land. To the south, however, younger and more pleasant looking trees are scattered across a small hill, marking the edge of the grove of the Grand Druid of all the Isles, a druid of fantastic power. Even through those trees, her Moonwell is clearly visible, the light from the skies sparkling off the radiant waters.
This region of Myrloch is an area of gnarled oak trees, dense enough to clog most potential paths with the craggy bark and solid wood of their bodies and blocking the way. Only to the south does a reasonable path appear, but that seems to lead into the grove of a powerful being of unknown origin from this angle. A guess could be hazarded, however, by the bright blue runes that flash out from many trees, symbols of immense power guarding a person or animal that does not want to be disturbed. This leaves only the north, west, and east as places to travel, squeezing one's form through narrow gaps in the treeline to continue traveling in this forest that seems to choke out all life within.
Waves crash against the low rockface that blocks Myrloch Vale from toppling into the Straits of the Leviathan. This rockface seems to be the edge of the forest, rising a few dozen feet above the water as it supports what appear to be a few trees too many. Tall but gnarled oaks crowd this little peninsula over the water, towering above the waves as they have since before time. To the west, small fishing boats dot the water, as the Northmen of the region earn their living to support themselves and their comrades in arms. To the east and south, trees no less old than those on this hill cover the land, taking up almost every inch of free space. Small paths squeeze their way between these trees and wander off further into the woods.
Myrloch Vale reaches the northern coast of this quaint island here, calmly accepting the low, lapping waves of the Strait of Oman that it overlooks. The trees here look no less ancient than those in any other part of this forest, once again a testament to how long this land must have been here before humans or even elves set foot upon it. Paths wind between ancient elms and oaks to the west and east, while a narrow track of trodden thorn bushes lies southward. To that southern direction as well, the howl of wolves on the hunt echoes through the forests, a haunting sound that spells doom for a stag or other choice meat.
The northern shore of the island of Gwynneth is here, standing a few feet above the Trackless Sea northward. In the distance, a small island rises above the haze of the horizon. All around here are twisted trees, warped by the unceasing demands of the environment around that attempts to destroy what has stood for millennia and more. More towering trees, most healthier looking than these ugly distortions here, are to the south, west, and east, as the forests of Myrloch continue in those directions.
This appears to be the southeast corner of a druid's grove, marked by loving care and careful pruning of the bushes and trees that make up this part of the vast forest that seems to continue in all directions. The younger trees here extend in a general arc to the north and west, walls of shrubs near their bases to serve as a fence and firebreak should the need arise. Outside this area of trees and shrubs are twisted ancient elms and oaks, towering skyward but menacing looking as they stand sentinel over Myrloch Vale, the heart of this island. The vale runs out of sight to the east and south.
This is a small copse of fruit bearing trees, not indigenous to the island of Gwynneth itself, but imported and lovingly cared for by the druid of this grove, the Great Druid of the Isles. The trees make a general north-south barrier on the western end of this region, barring passage towards the center of the grove. To the north and south, a line of bushes demarcates the border of the grove with Myrloch Vale, which spreads away into the distance to the east. To the west, beyond sight of the wall of trees, druids can be heard at work, tending the grove. One of the trees sports a large blue rune, which seems to glow with some sort of eldritch magic.
This appears to be the corner of the Grove of the Great Druid, a wall of shrubs and thorny bushes separating this zone of the forest from the wooded land of ancient Myrloch Vale to the north and east. The grove itself is made up of young and healthy trees, a sharp contrast from the ancient, craggy monoliths of the larger forest nearby. This small wooded region the Great Druid calls her own wanders off away to the south and west. Through gaps in the treeline in those directions, a small pool of glowing water can be seen, with stone figures of some sort surrounding it.
This appears to be the northern fringe of a small grove of carefully tended trees and shaped shrubbery. To the north, a large forest of aging and gnarled trees takes up residence upon the land, while to the east and west, the border of the grove wanders a short distance each way. To the south, a thick wall of trees bars passage, although through small gaps in the wall, a small hut can be seen at the edge of an equally small lake. Humanoid figures appear to be working the trees in the middle of that region.
The carefully tended grove of the Great Druid merges with Myrloch Vale here, a distance away from the ocean that can be heard a short distance away to the west. The two types of forests are as different as night and day. Myrloch Vale, to the north and west, is an ancient and untamed land of rugged trees and wild animals. In contrast, the grove seems almost tranquil, everything in a strictly defined order set by the druid who calls this place home. A line of pruned shrubbery extends to the south and east, forming an almost natural border between here and the wilderness a short walk away.
A thick line of pine trees and a low series of rose bushes form effective natural barriers herding animals and more intelligent beings alike on a very definite course through the western edge of this grove. In fact, the trees on the east side are impassable, while the shrubbery to the west has but one exit into the untamed forests beyond. Other than that, rows of rather new looking trees carefully arranged hint at a general north-south path through this region of the woods. In the distance, the sounds of humans working the earth can be heard, while a salty breeze wafts through the low-hanging boughs from the west.
A thin line of shrubbery separates this area of a small and healthy grove from the imposing trees of Myrloch Vale, which spreads out all around this site but more particularly to the immediate west and south. In contrast to the lively sounding woods about, this small grove, home of a druid, is almost quiet, with only the sounds of a few animals and a couple of humans audible at this point. To the north and east, small trails lead further into the grove, while a large wall of trees blocks any northeasterly route. A bright and radiant glow comes through the trees, probably from some massive power source of the druids.
This appears to be the primary entrance, if not the only entrance, to the central region of the grove. To the north, through that gap in the trees, lies a small hut near a glimmering lake, and two humans talking quietly near it. The female human wears the mantle of the Great Druid, while the male simply seems to be some sort of hired help. Narrow but clearly defined paths lead to the north, west, and east of here, running between trees and bushes that separate this grove from the wilds of the larger forest lying to the south.
A small hut sits here, near the southern shore of a legendary Moonwell. The hut itself is rather simple, but sturdy, although it does lack many of the conveniences of modern civilization. There are two bare pallets lying within, probably the resting spots of the two humans working diligently near the west end of this grove, one male and one female. The whole grove emits a sense of utter tranquillity and peace with nature, and also seems to benefit from the divine blessing of the Earthmother.
This is the great Myrloch Moonwell, the most powerful conduit of the Earthmother goddess' power around the islands. The Moonwell is very much like a pristine lake, glowing with an inner power and shining like a beacon to the weary and injured. The Moonwell is ringed by a dozen sturdy stone arches, magically restored from when they were destroyed more than two dozen years before during the Darkwalker Wars. A large grove of stately trees surrounds the area as well, with a gap south leading into Myrloch Vale.
This appears to be a lightly wooded region of Gwynneth, running just north of a wide stream that borders a large plateau. This forest continues to the north and west, neither imposing nor threatening. To the east, the forest thickens somewhat, but it too seems non-threatening. This place seems so quiet and peaceful that one might wonder if anything lives in the area, but then a few birds fly across around eye-level, dispelling the notion that this land is lifeless.
This appears to be rather sparse forest, well bathed in light from the skies above. The whole area seems quiet, almost too quiet, as if some terrifying beast had either scared off all the animals or sent them into hiding. This changes, however, when flocks of birds fly overhead, cutting across the sky. This light forest continues to the west and east, thins out into hills and flatlands to the north, and runs into a stream bed to the south. This stream runs along a towering plateau. The thought of what might live up there is rather frightening.
This appears to be a quiet section of lightly wooded forest in a small depression in the ground caused many, many years ago by some unknown phenomenon. In fact, this area of forest seems almost deserted as quiet as it is, but the silent movements of animals in the corners of one's eye convinces one that this place does in fact have life within it. The woods themselves thicken to the west and south, growing darker and more sinister as well, while the lightly wooded region continues to the north and west, rising up small hills in each direction. In a nearby tree, a rune glows with an eerie blue light, marking the territory of a druid.
This appears to be a lightly wooded section of forest on the fringe of the Winterglen, one of the great forests of the islands. In contrast to the near legendary forest to the east, this appears to be little more than plains that are covered in thick groupings of trees, rather than a true forest where the trees literally cover the land without much room for anything else. A warm salt breeze blows in from the north, indicating that the ocean is not that far away from here. The light forest continues to the south and west, and becomes far more sparse to the north. The aforementioned Winterglen is up a small hill to the east.
This appears to be little more than a flat plain covered here and there in bunches of younger trees (well, younger when compared to some of the ancient forests that cover this island). These bunches of trees stretch towards the east, west, and south, and thin out more towards the north where the coastline looms. In fact, a warm salt breeze wafts into the region from that direction, carrying the cries of the seagulls that float lazily over the waters of the Strait of Oman. The air also smells highly of fish. In the forests to the south, a mountain rises out over the land.
This appears to be a wooded hill overlooking the northern coast of the island of Gwynneth. Towards the north, the blue-green waters of the Strait of Oman lap at the northern shores of the land. Along those sandy beaches, there seems to be a small town with a number of fishing boats scattered in the waters nearby, Ffolkmen at their work. To the west, south, and east, light forest is scattered over the land, eventually blending into the more ancient woodlands of this island. In the distance to the south, a large mountain rises out of the woods like a bloody finger, supposedly a deadly land to the uninvited. The northerly salt breeze brings the cries of seagulls from the beaches nearby.
This appears to be little more than a grassy plain covering a swath of land north of all the forests and covering all ground to the sea. The woodlands stretch from horizon to horizon to the south, darkening all the lands beneath their grasp. A mist-enshrouded mountain rises into the midday haze from some point deep within the woods. To the north, and a lesser extent the northeast and northwest, the plains roll towards the eternal ocean a short distance away. There are few signs of life in this region, save the small fishing hamlet lying at the edge of the waters a short walk away, and the herds of sheep in the low hills overlooking that town.
This appears to be a small stretch of land rising out over the waters of the Trackless Sea that surrounds this island. This is a small region of low hills overlooking most of northern Gwynneth, a line of hills that continues to the north and west, gradually flattening out into either plains or the coastline of this island as it approaches the water. To the south, an old forest, but not a threatening looking one, takes up residence upon the land. This must be the Winterglen, one of the ancient forests that were said to be old even when the first elves stepped upon this island. A blue rune glows from the gnarled trunk of one of the nearby trees, signifying the presence of druids nearby.
These are the rolling plains and hills of northern Corwell, away from the dark and foreboding forests a short distance away to the south. All around, the land is covered with tall grass, growing wild since there appear to be few people to do anything about it. The sound of the surf rolling in against the land can be heard a short distance away, while a pleasant salt breeze brings in another sign of the nearby sea. Further along the coastline appears to be a small town of peasants, tilling small fields, tending small herds, or riding boats on the choppy waters of the Strait of Oman.
This is a grassy knoll overlooking both the great forests of the northern section of this island but also the rolling plains of Northern Corwell and the Trackless Sea which laps away at its shores. To the west, the ancient and mysterious wood known as Myrloch beckons travellers, often to their doom. It is a forest of tremendous power, as evidenced by the glowing runes etched into many of the twisted trunks. In contrast, a light but relatively lifeless forest lies to the south, not as old or powerful, but seemingly devoid of all living beings. To the east and north, the land flattens out somewhat as it runs towards the oceans, mostly the Strait of Oman to the north. Rising high above the forest to the south is a large land mass, shrouded in the mists and haze of central Gwynneth. Rumor has it that the denizens of that region are eternally hostile and will kill anyone on sight that is not one of their own.
This appears to be the northeastern coast of the isle of Gwynneth. The grassy plains and hills degenerate into a rocky shore upon which the waves of the Straits of Oman and Llewellyn crumble and collapse. Up small rises to the south, west, and north lie the fertile plains of northern Corwell, a land on which the combined people of the Northmen and the Ffolk depend on for much of their sustenance. However, some of the hardy folk still fish, and their small boats ride the choppy waters in the distance. To the distant south, large forests rise and cover the land, while to the far west, a small fishing town is visible upon the edge of the water.
This is a rocky line of small reefs just barely sticking out of the water, but thick enough to support the weight of many sentient human beings who use this as a vantage point to stare over the waters of the Strait of Oman. The line of reefs continues towards the west along a broad arc that parallels the shore of Gwynneth, while a rocky and dangerous looking beach wanders away in both that direction and to the south. Further along the coast westward, a tiny village can be seen, a small cluster of fishing boats circling in its harbor. In the distance to the south, a broad forest sprouts up, covering the land. A flock of seagulls circles overhead, looking for food or carrion to sustain themselves.
This is a small beach, rising and falling over small dunes, and overlooking the small fishing village of Codscove that stands precariously between the sea and a nearby marsh. This beach continues towards the east somewhat, ending at the edge of the Strait of Oman, which also laps against the land here. Across the waters towards the north, a small island rises out of the haze, probably the island for which this body of water is named. To the south, the land flattens out considerably and becomes covered in small homesteads and lush, verdant hills before giving way to ancient forests. A pleasant salt breeze wafts through the area, bringing with it the cries of seagulls and the odd albatross.
This appears to be the middle of a small field of crops, newly planted at this time of year to take advantage of the region's climate. The fertile land spreads around to the west, east, and south, covering the land in deep browns and shades of green. To the distant south, the trees of ancient Myrloch Vale rise to cover the land underneath their craggy boughs. To the north, the land degenerates into a mess of rock, coral, and sand, as over the next hill lies a shallow beach before the waters of the ocean. Circling in the waters nearby are a small navy of fishing boats, indicating the presence of a nearby town in the region. The smells of salt and fish dominate the air, and birds circle overhead, seeking easy targets to sink their talons into.
This is a verdant hill overlooking the small fishing town of Codscove. From this angle on the southern side of town, this village appears to be hastily and not very well built, as if the residents don't worry too much about the houses or place little value on keeping them intact. The coastline runs east-west near the village, while further inland and to the immediate west and east are fertile hills, on which livestock seem to be grazing. To the south, the hills rise and fall more, beyond which lies a monstrous forest, covering the land as far as the eye can see.
This appears to be little more than a town of ramshackle huts that almost could be blown down by a strong breeze off the waves of the ocean northward. Down a small hill lies a harbor, where a few rowboats lie untended, since most of them are out at sea, fishermen looking to feed their families from the bounty of the ocean. To the east and west, rocky beaches lead off towards the rest of northern Corwell, a small swamp to the west being the only relevant landmark. To the south, the land rises and falls into a series of grassy hills where those who prefer to keep their feet on the land tend small fields of crops or herds of livestock. The smells of fish and salt are predominant here, while the cries of the birds who live around here echo throughout the region.
This is a small patch of sandy shoreline at the edge of a small marsh along the northern edge of the island of Gwynneth. To the north is part of the great Trackless Sea, a huge body of water that surrounds and isolates this island. To the east and down a small hill is the village of Codscove, a small fishing town that has been rebuilt several times in the last few years after attacks from the northmen, legions of dead, or the sahuagin, lords of the sea. To the south lies a small valley, green and grassy, where farmers tend a small field of wheat. To the west, a small marsh occupies the land, insects swarming above the land like a plague. The cries of albatrosses reverberate throughout this area.
This is a small valley nestled between two relatively large hills of this fertile region of Corwell. In the distance to the south, near another series of small hills, is a large and dark forest, beckoning the foolish and the foolishly brave to their doom. To the north and up a small rise is a sandy beach, along the edges of the ocean, where fishing boats can be seen circling not far away from shore. To the east and west are verdant hills, the cries of livestock grazing contentedly covering up the calls of the birds that live in this region. A pleasant salt breeze moderates the temperature in this place, making sure that it is neither too warm nor too cold. In fact, this valley is very comfortable, and it's only a mystery why humans have not settled here.
This is a small hill overlooking much of Northern Gwynneth. To the east, a series of low hills and grasslands cover the region, fertile enough to support the small fishing community along the northern shores of the region. To the south and somewhat west, a quiet grove of trees stands separated from the woods that surround it, a silvery lake shining through the treeline. To the south, and to a lesser extent to the southeast, a broad forest covers the land, a span from horizon to horizon, obviously one of the great forests of these islands. A pleasant breeze blows in off a small inlet to the west, a small stream feeding into the Straits of the Leviathan to the distant west. From a nearby hill, the eyes of many hundreds of livestock stare at this location, seeing greener grass on the far side of their fence.
This is a small marsh lying along the coastline of Gwynneth, sitting where the Trackless Sea intersects with two Straits that separate the island from its closest neighbors. To the east, the land becomes rather rocky, and a broad beach arcs away to the east, towards a fishing hamlet. To the south, the land dries out and rises into fertile hills and farmland, where many of the Ffolk of the region earn the living to sustain themselves in this climate. Beyond those fields and hills lie dark forests, trees here and there flashing blue in some spots, marking the territory of the druids. To the north, the blue-green waters of the Trackless Sea seem to extend forever, before disappearing into the haze in the distance.
This appears to be rather barren cliffs overlooking the Trackless Sea that crashes upon the rocks to the south and west. This wasteland, however, has great historical meaning to these islands, for it was here that thousands of peasants under Prince Tristan Kendrick of Corwell and a unit of allied dwarves defeated an evil army led by the Black Wizards and regained control of the islands from the dark and sorcerous powers that held it hostage. Nearby, in the distance, runs the King's Road, a path that begins here, runs through the town of Llewellyn, and continues north towards the capital of Calidyrr. All around, the ground is a muddy and barren waste. Not even the powers of the Earthmother's druids have been able to make plant life spring forth from the tortured ground. The region of cliffs continues to the east, while the plains wander off towards the north.
This is a region of barren plains land running along the western coast of Alaron. Even now, the pounding surf of the Strait of Alaron eats away at the limited coastline over the next rise. To the east is more barren plains land, although in the distance both greenery and the King's Road are visible. To the south, a series of treacherous-looking cliffs dominate the landscape, an area that seems to have taken more than one unwary traveller to his death, falling vast distances into the unyielding rock and water below.
This is the small town of Llewellyn, a coastal village sitting alongside the Straits of Alaron. Even now, several boats can be seen pulling into the harbor, returning with the day's catch to feed the town. This appears to be a quaint enough place, with little out of the ordinary. Looking beyond the city limits, the Straits of Alaron appear to the west, while barren plains land appears in all other directions, a brown stain upon the land showing evidence of a lack of plant life in the cursed soil. Nearby, a door opens, and the voice of a bard can be heard from a nearby tavern.
This appears to be dusty flatlands just north of a small trading and fishing town along the western coast of Alaron. The town itself does not look very impressive, but it has a serviceable harbor and seems to handle most of the shipping for this half of the island. To the north and east, the plains roll on, mostly bare of life, although further to the east, the land appears to be a little more fertile, and plants grow there. Further off to the east, a road seems to split the ground, weaving a general north-south course towards the center of this land mass.
This appears to be plains sparsely covered by plant life, most of the area being covered by a clay-like mud that prevents grass and weeds from taking root and prospering. The general region of mud spreads in a broad arc to the south and east, the whole area looking like a brown smear, while to the north and in the distance to the east, some green shows up as plants actually find an area to thrive. To the west, the Strait of Alaron crashes into reefs lying just offshore, while to the far east, the King's Road appears to be easier travel for anyone traversing this part of the island. A small city appears on the southern horizon.
This appears to be modestly fertile grasslands rising slightly to overlook a forest just now appearing in the northwest. To the south and southeast, the plains flatten out and generally become less fertile and hospitable to plant life, as the continual smear of browns testifies to. To the east, small farms sprout up between here and the King's Road, a well-travelled path leading from here to Calidyrr, seat of the High Queen and her family. To the west, a small line of coral reefs blocks out the worst of the surf from the Trackless Sea, causing most of it to fizzle out on some rocks a couple hundred feet below the plains here.
This is a broad region of grasslands covering much of southern Alaron. In this area are mostly small farmsteads, and hills where small flocks of livestock gather and graze under the watchful eyes of peasants. The land towards the south looks unhealthy, however, as the plant life gradually disappears in that direction, leaving the plain barren as it approaches the southern coast. To the west, waves wash up upon a small coastline approaching a verdant forest to the northwest. In the distance, the King's Road can be seen, cutting a swath from Calidyrr in the north to the southern coast and Llewellyn.
Small farms are scattered throughout this region of grasslands, all formed in a protective semicircle around the small fishing village lying along the coast here. A number of distinct odors combine themselves into a more unique scent that distills itself across the wind: sweat, livestock, salt just to name a few of the more obvious ones. To the east, south, and north, this area of fertile grasslands continues, running along the coast or away from it. To the northwest, but very much nearby, is a dark forest quite distinct from the grasslands here.
This is part of the fertile grasslands that seem to make up much of the island of Alaron in this region. Foot tall weeds sprout up all over the region, easy demarcations between farms that lie a distance away from each other on the sparsely populated grasslands. To the east, the grasslands continue towards the King's Road, avoiding small villages and farms, and slowly dissipating towards the path there. To the south, the plants entirely die, wandering into a region of barren flatlands as far as the eye can see. To the west, the southern fringe of Dernall Wood, the primary woodlands of the island, begins and spreads northward along the coast. To the north, the grasslands slowly dissipate, approaching a large city in the distance.
This appears to be scattered grasslands just south of a broad road leading in a general north-south course, past a lively forest and towards a large city on the horizon. The city is probably Calidyrr, seat of the rulers of the united kingdoms of the islands, while the forest would most likely be Dernall Forest, the home of a resistance group in years past. To the south, there is a fertile series of plains, housing small farms and scattered villages that tend to livestock, shipping most of the surplus north to feed the royals. The King's Road leads off around this area, to the south and the coast.
This is a small, grassy plain overlooking the King's Road, a thoroughfare that runs across most of the southern part of Alaron. The road itself is rather well patrolled, with royal guardsmen making sure that bandits and thieves find no pickings in this zone. To the south, west, and east, the fertile area flattens out some, with farmsteads and small towns dotting the plains for miles in any direction. Glancing to the west, Dernall Forest is visible a short walk away, shielding the land between here and the coast. To the north, the city of Calidyrr sits astride Whitefish Bay, the graceful castle soaring over the rest of the landscape.
These are the fertile grasslands of Central Alaron, the largest island of all the Moonshaes. All about, small homesteads dot the land, scattered in a rather random pattern as each farmer seeks the most fertile land for his crops. To the west, south, and east, this terrain takes precedence over all the others, grassy land covered with wild growths, with some farms about. To the north, a wide dirt road leads on a general east-west path towards a large city and even more majestic castle to the northwest, probably the seat of the High Queen and her court. The road also continues to the east, makes a southerly turn, and is lost in the distance.
Fertile grasslands and small farms dominate this region of the plains of the central part of this island, running up small hills and down the backside. To the north lies the King's Road, the major thoroughfare for this region of the island, running south towards the coast and the town of Llewellyn and north and west towards the capital of Calidyrr. Even now, large parts of the road are within sight, running towards a series of barren hills in the distance. Nearby, the sounds of hardworking men at work come from a nearby farm, and the air reeks slightly of unwashed livestock.
These verdant hills overlook the heavily patrolled King's Road, the most travelled and easiest path for peasants to take when travelling throughout the southlands of Alaron. Just beyond the road is the coastline and some small fishing hamlets astride the Trackless Sea, all rather new looking as if they had just been built or rebuilt. The King's Road itself is not impressive looking, even given its name, but instead seems to be a wide dirt and mud path that wanders away towards the south and west. This region of Alaron is mostly grasslands and farms, as the Ffolkmen and Ffolkwomen work the land for what bounty they can attain from nature. The shriek of a seagull splits the rather quiet air.
This is a series of tall hills overlooking the King's Road, a generally dirt track running along the eastern coast of Alaron and the Trackless Sea. Even now, a pleasant salt breeze rustles through the wild growth of this region. To the west, south, and to a lesser extent the north, plant life covers the land, only turned aside when small farms carve themselves from the brush. These islands of civilization seem most dense in the fertile grasslands to the west, while to the south they are practically nonexistent, since the greenery seems to almost die in that direction, leaving an ugly brown stain upon the land as it approaches the southern coast and a series of rocky cliffs.
Fertile grasslands intermingle with tall hills here, covering most of this region with untamed plant life. To the east is a broad north-south path, most likely the King's Road given the royal guards walking along it. To the north and west, small farms and large pastures rise out of the brush, carving out small niches of civilization. To the south, the plant life slowly withers and dies the further south it gets, eventually leaving the land barren and the landscape rather bleak looking. To the east, beyond the King's Road, lies the Trackless Sea.
Flat grasslands cover the seemingly endless plains here, which run towards the distant horizon in every direction save east. Towards the east, a broad dirt road splits the plains just a short walk away, and beyond that comes a sandy shoreline and the ocean beyond. To the west and north, grasslands cover the broad plain, small homesteads and villages popping forth every few miles or so. To the south, the plains seem to be devoid of all life, a brown stain upon the fabric of nature as the corrupted land there before a series of tall cliffs refuses to accept the nurturing spark of life.
This seems to be a section of dusty plains, great clouds of it rising up out of the weeds with every step. This region seems rather dry, and come to think of it, the plant life here seems rather unhealthy, being a sickly brown color from here on to the distant south where it reaches a series of towering peaks. To the west, this bleak terrain continues, running towards the distant coast in that direction as well, and the town near it. To the north, the soil seems more fertile, as lively grass and wildflowers sprout up all over the place, only turned aside by farms and towns. To the east, a broad dirt road runs on a general north-south path from the coast to the horizon north and beyond. Past the road is the Trackless Sea, whitecaps rising over the glistening waves of the eternal ocean. The cries of seagulls fill the air, and many of them circle overhead, observing the coastline.
These barren plains seem almost devoid of life, the only signs of which are the small shoots of dying grass extending barely out of the ground, trampled almost to dust by many hundreds of feet. To the east, the King's Road carves a swath through southern Alaron, running on a north-south path towards the distant capital city of Calidyrr, while beyond it lies the Trackless Sea, the great body of water that isolates this island from the other Moonshae Islands. To the west and south, the bleak landscape dominates, with naught a sign of life on the cursed soil. To the north, life gradually returns to the lands, as first grass and then fertile soil and farms cover much of the area. A pleasant easterly wind brings in the odor of salt and fish from the sea.
These plains seem to be covered in a thick layer of dust and murky soil, as each footstep causes large clouds of dust to rise up and each footstep beyond that becomes difficult as the ground tries to entrap one's feet. To the west and south, this terrain continues, gradually becoming more rocky and if at all possible more barren, but definitely devoid of life. To the north, this cursed land continues for a short distance before terrain where fertile soil can be found and the growth of plants can be seen as well. That borders on the major thoroughfare of this area, the King's Road which runs from the southern coast (now in sight) to Calidyrr, seat of the High Queen. To the east, and even to the distant west, the Trackless Sea comes into sight, its blue-green waters and foamy white waves a clear contrast to the dying southlands of the island of Alaron.
The Central plains of southern Alaron here is as bleak a landscape as one can find upon the Moonshae Islands. Mud and dust cake the ground, preventing any plant life or growth from finding the healthy soil beneath, thus choking off all life in this area. This barren wasteland runs in all directions save the east, where the King's Road takes a north-south route along the eastern coast of this island. In the distance to the south, the land becomes jagged and rocky as it climbs a series of treacherous cliffs towards the Trackless Sea beyond. In the distance to the north, the King's Road disappears over the far horizon, just as some greenery appears on the land.
This is barren plains land, probably once grassland, but not anymore. The clay-like soil underfoot prevents the growth of all but the hardiest weeds, which even now cling desperately to life in the poisoned soil. Towards the south, this plains land rises into a series of dangerous-looking cliffs, which themselves tower over the ocean to the south. To the west and north, ugly brown plains cover the land, those too covered by decaying plants and tortured nature covering the land in spots. To the east, the King's Road nears its southern terminus, wandering through a series of low hills as it approaches the sea. To the north, the road disappears among the barren plains in the distance.
This is a series of towering cliffs overlooking the Trackless Sea that crashes against the reefs thousands of feet below. This area has all the feel of an old battlefield, and if rumors are correct, this is one, for this is the supposed site of the last battle between Prince Tristan Kendrick's rebellion and the armies of the Black Wizards. To the north, the land flattens out and becomes far safer, although the feel of death comes from there as well, as not a plant is in sight on the plains land. To the west, the series of cliffs continue, going through many rises and falls and tempting any foolhardy man or woman to climb in that region only to fall to their death below. To the east, the beginnings of a dirt road can be seen, leading off towards the north along the coast of the ocean. A salt breeze whistles through the area, and the cries of birds of prey echo throughout the region.
This is a series of gigantic cliffs overlooking a number of the sights of southern Alaron. To the south, the ocean pounds away at the rockface, once in a while dragging huge slabs of bedrock beneath the churning surf. To the east and west, the series of cliffs and mountains continue, a treacherous region of rocks and jagged edges. To the north, barren plains land replaces more deadly terrain, a plains land of death and destruction. Even now, no plants will grow on the cursed soil, and vultures circle overhead, waiting for something to die that they may pluck it apart for food. Even now, they eye this area of cliffs eagerly, sensing that something may die here shortly.
Jagged cliffs tower over the landscape here, tumbling down thousands of feet shortly to the south, crashing into the Trackless Sea below. This region is among the most treacherous of areas of all of Alaron, if not the Moonshae Isles themselves, as one misstep could send one plummeting to the reefs and surf far below, almost certain death to anyone. To the east and west, this line of cliffs continues, a broad arc of rockface that looks like it has seen many a death in recent times, as witnessed by vast battle scars still evident more than twenty years after a great battle was fought here. To the north, the land seems to become more fit for human passage, but the motif of death continues, as the plains covering the land are neither fertile nor green, the clay-like soil and tortured plants that can live there taking on a sickly brown color.
This region of mountainous cliffs towers over the barren plains land to the north, providing a splendid view of the region for miles around. To the south, and also to the west beyond the short reach of the rocks, the Trackless Sea pounds against the island, massive waves breaking over a series of low reefs and slamming into the side of the cliffs. To the east, the series of cliffs continues, running along the coastline until they reach a broad dirt path at the eastern horizon, a path which runs north through the plains. The plains themselves, almost directly north of here, are a tortured morass of cursed soil and twisted plants, all the same putrid shade of brown. The whole region, in fact, looks like a painting that an artist might make of some hellish world, a world where nothing could live. Those plains are to the north, and a strip of brilliant green beyond them.
Low foothills here slowly rise towards a mountainous region to the south, from which the sound of the eternal ocean and a warm salt breeze seem to come from. The foothills themselves are barren of any life, seemingly little more than overgrown piles of murky soil thrown down by some evil elder god for the sole purpose of poisoning the land. This morass continues in a broad arc to the east and west, running towards the coast each way. To a lesser extent, this wasteland runs towards the north, but in the distance the plains land seems to sprout healthy grass and shrubs. There it seems, southern Alaron truly begins, for small plumes of smoke indicate the presence of farms and villages.
Flat plainsland stretches from the northern horizon until well into the south, where it runs into a series of rocky hills and cliffs. Here, most of the land is rather barren, with a sickly layer of brown grass matching the rather clammy soil underneath. This, however, is healthier than to the east and south, where the land is entirely devoid of life. To the west, a small fishing town overlooks a sheltered cove and a large body of water beyond, while farmlands stretch to the north.
The plains land here seems equally divided between fertile greens and cursed browns, as areas of both mix together in some spots. This seems to almost be some sort of dividing point in southern Alaron, as the verdant coloring gains much strength going northwards towards the fertile plains and the browns gain domination over the southland where hills and cliffs take over the region. To the north, the grasslands show signs of habitation, as sounds of livestock come over the air even at this distance. A pleasant salt breeze rustles the grass from the west, indicating that the waters of the Trackless Sea cannot be very far away either.
This grassland is split between sections of lively plant life and sections of barren nothingness, although around here it seems the greenery is winning out. This messy looking region itself spreads in all directions, although the plains to the north actually look healthy, as opposed to here and southward which look like they have been suffering the curse of an evil god or two. To the southwest, a small fishing town seems precariously perched on a hill sitting just above the Strait of Alaron. Even now, a small tremor seems to rumble through the region, but that just might be the echo of the surf crashing along the thin coastline. A pleasant breeze with just a hint of salt blows in from that direction as well, and seagulls circle lazily in the skies above.
Fertile plains land takes root here, with copious amounts of wild grass covering much of the land and serving as efficient natural fences to separate the farms which become more frequent in this region the further north one looks. A decisive contrast to the southern plains, which appear bleak and have no signs of living beings on them, this land is fertile and green and the buzz of insects forms a cacophony of noise that threatens to drive one mad. To the east and west, this phenomenon continues, although a distant roar of some sort attempts to drown out the bugs from the west. To the north, the land becomes even more fertile, and farms sprout up all over the place, covering most of the region with their organized fields. To the distant northwest, a forest looms on the horizon, darkening the land beneath it.
Wild grass and thick shrubbery provides a thick carpet for much of this area, vastly overgrowing any attempts to contain it. In fact, the only pockets of passable territory seem to be the small tracks that shepherds use in guiding their flocks back and forth, and small firebreaks around the edges of the small homesteads of the region. Even now, the sound of unwashed cattle drowns out the pleasant westerly breeze blowing in off the Straits of Alaron. This explosion of wildlife continues in all directions from here, although not so much, as nature seems far more contained. Landmarks of note seem to be the forest to the northwest, and the barren plains in the distance to the south, a splotch of dark brown against an otherwise universally green landscape.
Thick clumps of brush and wild grass alternate with farms and small gatherings of huts in this region of the Central Plains. The area as a whole seems to be very fertile, with bountiful harvests evident on the homesteads and much plant life elsewhere. This general celebration of the best of nature extends in all four directions, although the ocean and the forest interrupt this outpouring of life to the west, while distant roads carve out space to the east and north. To the south, the verdant fields continue uninterrupted to and most likely beyond the horizon.
This appears to be the northern section of the Central Plains of Alaron, as it rapidly approaches a road to the north, beyond which a dark forest and the road are the only terrain features of the island. All around, plants grow to immense heights, providing efficient cover and serving as makeshift barriers between the farms and fields and homes and grazing spots of the peasants and their livestock. To the west, the dark forest that occupied much of the land northward has its southern fringe, sitting alongside rather turbulent waters there. To the east, and also the north, the King's Road carves out the edge of the plains, providing a convenient path for many to travel on. To the south, fertile plains seem to extend on forever.
Fertile grasslands here give way to a multitude of small farms and fields where the livestock and crops of the Ffolk thrive. Each farm is separated from its neighbor by a small wall of wild grass, tall enough to hide an army of firbolgs, and each strand as thick around as a man's wrist. Obviously, this field has been here a long time without human interference, and the strength of the plants is a testament to the power of the Earthmother over this land. To all directions, this thriving terrain continues, although in the distance to the north, a broad dirt road leads off to a distant city.
From the top of a low hill, one can see most of the Central Plains region of southern Alaron. For the most part, this appears to be healthy and green land covered thickly by wild grass and dotted with farms and villages. It is only to the extreme south that this seems to die out some, and then only a little. To the west looms a dark and foreboding forest, darkening the land underneath. To the east and north, broad and heavily travelled roads can be seen, peasants wandering up and down them towards destinations unknown, although in the distant north a castle can be seen. The sound of the ocean can be faintly heard over the sounds coming from the rustling grass. A small flock of birds circle lazily overhead, relaxing and enjoying the terrific climate.
Wildlife grows thickly in the fertile soil underfoot, covering the land in a palette of greens, running the gauntlet from dark to bright. This terrain type surrounds this area, only carved up in places by small villages and the occasional farm or two. Otherwise, nature has dominance over the land from here on southward, at least until a point where the plants die and murky brown soil is all that can be seen. To the east, the King's Road tops a small hill, rising into sight for a few hundred feet of its north and south tour of the southlands. To the distant west, a dark forest appears on the horizon. The breeze has a slight scent of salt as well, indicating that a large body of salt water is indeed near.
A carpet of lush, green grass covers the plains for quite a distance, almost literally burying most of southern Alaron beneath its presence. To the west and north, small homesteads dot the land, along with villages and area for the livestock they keep to feed themselves. To the east, a broad dirt road runs along the distant coastline beyond the bountiful plains, and both peasants and the royal guard can be seen walking it. To the south, the grasslands wither and die, as cursed clay-like soil replaces the healthy and fertile dirt here. In the south, there are no farms, villages, or plants, it just appears to be a brown smear upon the land, possibly a remnant of the presence of Bhaal when he controlled the land for a short while a few decades past. Birds of prey circle overhead that area, some heading this way looking for carrion to chew upon or corpses to defile.
Dry plains replaces the fertile grasslands to the north here, an obvious and disturbing demarcation between the healthy lands of the Earthmother and lands that were badly corrupted in the past. Even now, the few plants that grow in this soil are brown and sickly, and appear as if they would topple over and expire at any moment. To the west, east, and south, the land appears much the same as it does here, with the sole exception to that being the distant south where the land looks worse if that is at all possible. To the north, vibrant plant life dominates the land, only turned aside when a farm or village intrudes into the plains land. The harsh cries of birds shatter the silence of the air, which reeks of something rotten nearby.
Barren plains land covers the earth here, murky soil preventing the growth of healthy plants like those to the distant north. Even now, a young plant falls over into the endless sleep of death, returning to the cursed soil from which it spawned. To the east, south, and west, the terrain looks much alike, only ended by the Trackless Sea to the east and a series of towering cliffs to the south. Despite all appearances, the plants to the north and northwest are actually rather vibrant looking, and they make a thick covering on a land that seems more dominated by vegetable than man, even though large numbers of farms rise out of the greenery. A foul odor wafts in from somewhere nearby, and vultures circle in large numbers nearby, chilling one's bones and making him or her wonder why they are present here.
Barren plains land stretches as far as the eye can see, covering the earth with a uniformly ugly brown smear. Little grows in this cursed region, and even the few plants that do are sickly looking and on the verge of perishing. There is no sign why this is so, although it might have to do with the noxious odor nearby, a smell so horrible and strong that it blocks out the sea breeze that blows from somewhere nearby. To the south, the plains land is blocked by a series of cliffs, the rocky land staring out over the Trackless Sea which calls to travellers just beyond. Vultures circle the skies above, almost waiting for something to happen that they might feed.
Barren plains rise slightly towards a series of towering hills and cliffs that rise above the Trackless Sea to the south. There, as here and in every other direction from this place, the cursed soil underfoot prevents much from growing, choking off life entirely. The clay-like substance even does its best to drag down anything that walks here, but without much success, for most anyone or anything wandering these plains has the strength to pull out. To the east, the roar of surf indicates another nearby coastline. Overhead, carrion birds circle eagerly, awaiting the next death in this region.
A noxious smell rides the wind from somewhere nearby, scattering the few animals that call this desolate wasteland home. Vultures and the like circle in the air, shrieking enough to drown out the roar of the surf from somewhere nearby. All around, the land is covered in a tar-like or clay-like brown mud, stifling all potential life from growing in this region. In fact, this land seems so cursed that the desolation and the lack of life extends well in all directions, except the south where a series of treacherous cliffs rises above the rest of the land, but Death seems a common visitor even there, as a couple of corpses dangle along the rocks, left where they plummeted to their death by any of their fellows who might have been around.
Rocky foothills loom over the shattered land to the north, towering over the dead and dying land. Northward lies barren plains, so bleak that few if any plants grow there, while vultures circle eagerly overhead, calling to kin and feasting on a few corpses lying in the fields. To the south, cliffs rise up above the ocean, challenging the most brave and foolhardy to scale their heights and lay claim to whatever may lie up there. In the distance to both the west and the east lie large bodies of water, and to the west a small town lies along the coast, a fishing village barely eking out a living in this region.
Barren plains cover the land from east to west, and extend clear to the distant northern horizon, a brown and cancerous smear upon formerly verdant grasslands. Anywhere that brown exists, life generally does not, as few of nature's plants and weeds are hardy enough to survive in the poisoned soil. Even fewer animals can live in this wasteland, as the noxious smell sitting on the rather still air attests to. It comes from a corpse that must have been dead for some time, for a swarm of insects and many vultures circle its carcass in the distance. To the south, a series of rocky hills and cliffs rise above the land, and a small village lies to the west, along a sandy rise.
This is the cursed plains land of southern Alaron, covered very much with a uniform brownish shade of dirt. Nothing grows here at all, most life incapable of surviving in this terrain. The animals too have fled this land for more hospitable climes to the north, where grasslands replace this desolate reach. To the south and east, the barren plains extend to the horizon and the ocean respectively, while to the west, corruption mingles with some healthy soil as it extends towards the ocean in that direction, and the small fishing town that sits alongside it. To the north, fertile grasslands cover the plain, its many shades of green a sharp and decided contrast to the desolation here. Many hundreds of carrion birds circle in the skies above, as if waiting for a feast of unmitigated proportions.
Slightly fertile plains land is scattered here, almost evenly divided between the corrupted and barren land to the south and the fertile and verdant plains to the north. Most of this land is unused, but the larger sections of grasses is fenced off, and seems to be a grazing area for the livestock of the region. To the west and north, most of the land is green, and a number of farms and towns make themselves visible through the thick growth. To the south and east however, is barren land, a brown murk where no plants grow and no animals roam. From that direction, a noxious smell emanates, and the harsh shrieks of vultures echo across the land.
Relatively fertile grasslands provide the scenery in this region of the Central Plains of southern Alaron. A sharp contrast to the barren and cursed land to the distant south, here a small number of farms and the occasional hamlet rise out of the grasses. To the north, the land is even more fertile, as the large number of farms in that direction attests. To the east and west, the land drops slightly towards the coastline, while to the south is desolation as previously mentioned. The smells of unwashed livestock and the sounds of men working hard at a farm bring depth to this land, and the understanding that society is alive and well here.
Fertile grasslands and a multitude of small farmsteads cover the land here, mixing together in a random fashion. The many farms seem to be enjoying quite a bounty in the way of crop harvests this time of year, a testament to how well the land has recovered since the return of the Goddess Earthmother. To the east and west, and the north as well, this life continues uninterrupted to the end of one's sight, and probably beyond as well. To the south, the fertility gradually dies off, eventually leaving the plains bleak and inhospitable to any kind of life. Overhead, small birds circle the area, chattering among themselves, while a nearby breeze brings in the odors of the distant sea.
Several small farms cluster about each other in a broad arc near what appears to be the major town of this region. Their presence rising out of the thick plant life of this region shows that this area is well off, and that unlike the dark plains to the distant south, this area is alive and well. The sounds of men hard at work and contented livestock testify to the bounty and success of the peasants here, while the carpet of grass running in all directions shows that this phenomenon must continue for quite a distance. The clarion call of trumpets ride the wind, meaning that a group connected to the royal family must be nearby. From the echo pattern, it must mean that the King's Road is nearby, providing easier transit through the region than this area. The smells of salt and livestock mix together to provide a most unique scent to blanket this area.
The Strait of Alaron gently laps at the muddy soil of the fringe of Dernall Wood. This is a relatively light forest, with sunlight streaming down through the canopy relatively easily, and wide paths leading between the clumps of trees enabling rather easy travel. From nearby, a couple of birds engage in song, while the sounds of squirrels and raccoons rustling about in the brush come from a nearby location. Broad paths lead off to the north and west, while eastward lies the fertile grasslands of the Central Plains. From nearby comes the strong odor of unwashed livestock, overpowering even that of the eternal ocean.
A deep and musty smell pervades this ancient forest, which appears to sprawl for quite a distance in almost all directions. Only to the south, where the azure waters of the Strait of Alaron lap against the shores of this island, does forest not continue to the edge of one's sight. The forest itself is rather light, with only small clumps of density here and there. Clear and well defined paths lead to the north, west, and east, probably trails left over by the people who once lived here many years ago. Those people back then were bandits who were in revolution against the High King, and used these trails for thievery to feed their own coffers for their private war. Now, they are simply bygone relics from an ancient day, and serve little purpose but to ease one's way as they travel through Dernall.
This low, mossy hill overlooks a placid bay along the western coast of this island. To the south, the Strait of Alaron laps gently at the edge of the forest, which has a most untraditional shore being mostly dirt and packed mud. To the east and west, clearly demarcated paths lead off into the woods along the coastline, while an old road of some sort bypasses a burnt out chapel and wanders into the woods to the north. All about, the normal chattering of the animals and insects mixes to form quite a din, echoing through the woods and possibly hiding the movements of something more sinister. A deep, musty odor drifts in on the northerly breeze, drowning out the salt scent from the waters southward.
This is Dernall Forest, a light wood bordering on the Strait of Alaron on the western side of this island. To the south, the sea gently laps against the muddy forest floor, keeping its texture quite moist and sticky and creating a minor mud slide here and there. To the west and east, broad paths above the muddy area lead off in those directions, while gaps in the trees to the north provide access deeper into the forest. Sunlight streams down through the tree tops, leaving the area well lit. A friendly breeze brings in the musty smell of deep forest from somewhere nearby, while animals crash through the brush in work or play.
This appears to be a corner of Alaron, the shore turning sharply to the east and north here and the forest following along inland. Beyond the shoreline, the azure waters of the Strait of Alaron sparkle underneath the same sunlight that streams down through the trees, brilliantly illuminating the dark browns and greens of Dernall Forest. Under such perfect light, it is quite easy to see the small trails that lead off along the rocky coastline and into the woods. To the northeast, relatively deep into the forest, snaps come as a bear or other large animal wanders through the underbrush. From that direction too comes the smell of the deep forest, as a friendly breeze brings it out towards this region of the forest. Two squirrels skitter by at top speed, a male chasing his mate as they play on this wonderful day.
Damp soil clogs the paths underfoot as the tide flows up against a small hill and up into Dernall Forest. The wood itself is rather light, with the trees themselves not thick enough to impede movement or to group together to block out the sunlight. In the hazy light, two paths are visible, a north and south running affair that continues along the shore and one that leads east into the main part of the wood. From that direction, a musty smell of damp earth and aromatic plants comes, as well as the beautiful songs of the birds and the chattering of smaller animals.
The forest darkens somewhat here as the shore falls away down short hills to the south and west. Despite this, the area is still well lit by sunlight that streams down from above, illuminating the multitude of paths that lead out of this area. To the west and south, the forest drops some, down a hill towards a body of water that borders the forest. To the east, a small game trail works its way into the forest, around a small copse of pine trees and into darkness a short distance off. To the north, a musty smell drifts along the rather still air of the forest, bringing with it the odor of a cave. Off in that direction as well lie a number of footprints, as if a decent sized body of men wandered off in that general direction. All around, songbirds sing their daily tunes.
This is light forest, just north and uphill from a small bay bordering on the forest's southern side. The trees themselves are not grouped thickly, which allows for a lot of light to stream down and brighten the floor of the woods. Broad paths lead off in all four major directions, the southerly one running down a small hill towards the water, while the one to the north runs into a very dark area between large clumps of trees. In the distance, the sounds of a great many men can be heard moving through the forest very quietly, while from nearby a number of birds chirp away the day merrily. From nearby, the damp smell of packed earth wafts through the forest.
Light forest covers this tract of land, surrounded on all sides by more of Dernall Wood, a forest as famed for its inhabitants of many years ago as any other part of this island. Over two decades ago, many peasants and minor nobles rose up in revolution against a corrupt High King, and used this forest for a hideout. Nowadays, this forest is mainly empty, left to the animals as the peasants have returned to more hospitable climes. From nearby, the smells and sounds of the deep forest reach this locale. Broad paths leading in each of the four major directions lead off into the darkness nearby, the southerly one running down a small, muddy hill towards the ocean.
This appears to be the eastern fringe of relatively sparse forest, as it empties out onto the Central Plains just down a small slope to the east. From here, one can see a good deal of the region, most of it rather fertile and dotted with small homesteads. As well, the King's Road runs nearby, providing a quick path between here and Caer Calidyrr to the north. To the west, the forest becomes slightly thicker, and darker too as it heads away from the open lands of the plains. To the north and south, small game trails lead along the edge of the forest, bordering much of its length, and allowing travellers to wander the woods without fear of tripping on some hidden danger.
This is the eastern parts of Dernall Forest, a light wooded section of the island of Alaron. From here, small game paths lead off to the north and south, running between small groupings of trees. To the west, another slightly wider path leads into an area of deep shadows, as the sunlight in that area is unable to entirely make its way down through the sparse treeline. From that direction as well comes the smell of moist, damp earth mixed with that of nature in full bloom. To the east, the King's Road runs by this very location, making a turn from north to east as it continues towards the heartland of this island.
Dernall Forest darkens somewhat as the center of the great forest beckons to unwary travellers. Some light comes down through the trees, illuminating small trails leading in all directions. To the east and south, the forest brightens somewhat, approaching the edge and more open land. To the west and north, the forest becomes eerily black, the game trails and paths that provide guidance vanishing into the darkness. From nearby comes the sounds of movement, although whether it is from animals or people one cannot tell. The musty smell of packed earth assails one's sense of smell, its heady aroma very much a real distraction to the senses.
The air lies thick with the odor of a nearby animal lair, the musty smell of deep forest mixed with the smells of decaying carcasses used as food to feed the great carnivores of Dernall Forest. A relatively wide path leads north to south while avoiding the underbrush, a clearly used trail by many of the hunters that must use this region in their livelihoods. To the east and west, narrow trails clogged with thick underbrush make difficult trails to those directions. From nearby comes a soft light, and the sounds of many sentient beings moving about in the near-darkness.
The forest is dark here, the inky darkness eating up all the features of the landscape as one finds it hard to see more than a few feet in any direction. To the west, a narrow path winds between the trees and down a small hill towards a sparkling bay to the west. To the east and south, slightly wider trails wind their way into the featureless forest. To the north, some of the foliage around the wider paths look fire-damaged and dead, blackened trees and darkened brush lying there emitting a faint scent of wood smoke even now, well after whatever fire had done the damage had occurred. From nearby comes the sounds of a large animal or two crashing through the forest, giving one the feeling that they are far from alone.
This is a small dirt path leading along the shores of the sea to the west, running near the base of a small hill that rises towards the main parts of the forest. Dernall Forest is a rather light forest, at least in this section, that is well lit from the skies above and seems to provide little hazard. Scant amounts of underbrush make the occasional roadblock, but they are easily dodged. From deeper within the woods comes the chatter of woodland denizens up and about at this time while a favorable breeze brings in the musty aroma of the deep woods. A third path, breaking away from the shore road, leads up the hill east and into the darkness of the forest itself.
The crystal waters of the Strait of Alaron gently roll ashore along the edge of the forest of Dernall. Running along the shore of the sea is a narrow path at the fringe of the forest, lightly trod. Running between small groupings of trees to the east is another path, leading off into the murky darkness from where many sounds of the forest come. Animals are out and about in that region, many of them chattering and singing the day away. From that direction as well comes the heady scent of the deep forest mixed with that of wood smoke, an unusual pairing of smells indicating that more than a simple uninhabited forest may be ahead.
This is a small clearing within the woods, where a merrily bubbling brook starts and runs across the floor of the area. Actually, the clearing is little more than the meeting of paths running in from all four compass points, and widening around the banks of the brook. From above, sunlight streams down between the leaves of the trees, casting a fair amount of illumination on the scene. Most of the ground is clear of brush, and the paths too, although the rest of the area is rather cluttered with plant life. The paths themselves show a great deal of use, as if some sort of base were here, but there are no signs of any permanent residence from any group of people. To the west, the path wanders towards the sparkling waters of some great body, but in all the other directions, the paths lead off into darkness. A breeze carries the odor of a large animal's lair from somewhere nearby. A sudden rustling of the leaves makes one look up real quick, but nothing is there, only the wind.
This is the floor of a broad forest clearing, extending a short distance in all directions before once again reaching the treeline. A bubbling stream runs nearby, running a thin trail from northwest to southeast along the grassy area in the center of the clearing. Many footprints appear near the stream, giving one the idea that a bandit lair of some sort is nearby, but there is no sign of concentrated activity in the region where a base might appear. Narrow paths wind between the treeline to the north, south, and east, while to the west a broad trail leads away into another clearing. From nearby comes the sounds and smells of a small town, but where it is no one can tell.
The forest hunches back in around the intersection of paths here, closing it off into murky darkness as the light from above is blotted out by the thick foliage skyward. Short, cluttered trails lead off to the east, south, and north, all clotted with thick underbrush somewhat trampled by large bodies. To the west, the forest opens up into a well-lit clearing. From nearby come the sounds and smells of a city, most unusual seeing that this area should not be inhabited by sentient life from all reports. A couple of birds zip by in the near darkness, and a friendly breeze brings the odor of the deep forest, making one wonder if they ever heard and smelled a nearby campsite.
This is the edge of Dernall, looking out over the narrow stretch of land of Central Alaron between the fertile plains to the south and the great capital of Calidyrr to the north. Nearby, the King's Road runs north and south just a few hundred feet to the east, a broad and well-travelled thoroughfare between the two regions just mentioned. To the north and south, the irregular treeline continues, jutting out and cutting back in seemingly at random along the side of a small hill. To the west, a narrow twisting path winds its way into the dark forest. From that direction comes the odors one would associate with a forest, but the sounds of human voices instead of the growls and chirps and other assorted animal sounds makes one wonder just what lies in the darkness beyond.
Light forest borders the edge of the King's Road here, just on its west side and up a small slope. Beyond the road itself is a large body of water, which parallels the north-south coast. Dernall is a very light forest, the land very sparsely covered by trees here, but thickening somewhat to the west. A narrow track leads along the rim of the woods here, paralleling the great road a short distance away, mainly used by hunters and scouts probably. A wider path leads into the darkness to the west, between two rather imposing trees into the main part of the forest. The musty smell of nature comes from a friendly breeze that seems to originate in the center of the forest, but the sounds carried on the wind seem most unforestlike... the chattering of humans and the sounds of a small village come from within the darkened mists.
This grassy land is lightly covered with trees, well lit from above by the light streaming down through the treetops. This is the intersection of what appears to be two major game trails, one running north to south and the other going east and west from this locale. Both appear to receive a decent amount of use, as the large numbers of footprints indicate. From all about, the bugs and animals of the forest flit about, never completely coming into sight as if they feared something, but instead keeping to partial cover as they wander. The heavy human essence to this forest seems out of place considering the great abundance of animal life, but nothing about this forest seems quite right. A favoring breeze brings in the scent of the deep forest, while the sounds from nearby are those of the birds and the bees. Paths lead off into the darkness in all directions save east, where a small hill appears less densely covered.
Dernall Forest seems oddly dark and menacing here, all the more strange since most of the rest of the woods seemed so open and friendly. Little light comes through the treeline, barely illuminating the path, let alone much of the region around it. Two intersecting paths form a four-way intersection allowing a traveller his or her choice of exits from the region. All the paths are somehow strangely free of underbrush, looking cleared by some human hand. From nearby comes the sounds and smells of a human encampment, all the more strange since there are few signs of habitation here, whether a piece of garbage or footprints left by a wandering individual. From nearby comes the growl of some large carnivore, further setting nerves on edge, as one's eyes dart from tree to tree, looking for the ambush that must be near.
Murky darkness collapses upon Dernall Forest here, as any light that might enter the area is blotted out before it gets near. Dark paths converge and separate in this region, running off in all four compass directions. To the south, the forest opens up a little bit into a small clearing, from which a small stream starts and flows this way. To the east, the forest becomes pitch black, and the sheer volume of footsteps coming from here to there indicates that some focused activity happens there. Glancing about, one could almost suppose that bandits inhabit this deserted forest, but the sights, smells, and sounds of the woods seem rather normal for this terrain type. Heck, the breeze even carries the smells of a musty cave, barely aired out during the long stay of some large carnivore.
A small inlet off of the ocean brings crystal clear water into the forest of Dernall, forming a small pool just inside the shoreline and down a hill from the forest proper. From here, small hunting trails run along the shore to the north and south, paralleling the coastline, while another path leads between some of the trees and into darkness. The forest itself seems rather light, with only a sparse covering of trees on the land, although it does get thicker the further inland one goes. From the east as well comes the smells and sounds of the deep forest, although the large number of signs of human habitation here makes one wonder precisely who or what lives in these woods, and what they do to survive, since the signs are definitely most undruidlike.
A small corner of the island rises slightly into a wooded hill overlooking a large body of water just to the west and north of this site. This can be no less than the Strait of Alaron, the body of water running along the western coast of this island and parting Alaron from Gwynneth. To the east and north, small coastline trails run along the beach, rising slightly into the forest beyond. The forest itself seems to be a rather light affair of young looking trees running well inland. From there comes the musty smell of damp earth and large forest animals whose sounds of roaming come from inland.
Sunlight filters down through the treetops, clearly illuminating the floor of this forest, Dernall Wood. From here, wide trails slash through the underbrush between large areas of trees, leading in all four directions. To the north and west, the land drops slightly, as the trails head for muddy ground alongside a wide bay that extends past one's limited field of vision. To the east and south, the paths themselves head into areas of murky darkness, disappearing into the forest beyond that looks somewhat more threatening than here. Rather than the sounds and odors of the deep forest, the favoring winds here bring in the environment of a human encampment, wood smoke replacing musty earth in the smell sensory, and the sharp sounds of human voices overshadowing those of the birds and other animals of the woodlands.
The air seems a little hazy or smoky here near the center of Dernall Forest, as a trace amount of wood smoke filters into the region from nearby, overpowering the normal scents of the woods. The haze itself reflects off of the sunlight that streams down from above, illuminating the trails nearby leading off to all four directions. It is only the smoke that seems out of place here, as the rest of the forest seems quite normal. Birds flit about, singing their tunes to the delight of all the other animals, while bears and the like move around on their daily chores. From the south, however, the bark of human voices seems to dominate the region, giving one the impression that they are not alone here.
The air seems almost oppressive as it settles here near the center of the forest known as Dernall. The trees tower above, blocking out most of the light, but what gets through clearly illuminates intersecting paths running north and south, east and west. Nearby one of the paths is a clear indentation of a boot print left by someone, probably nearby as it looks rather fresh. The sounds of a human camp nearby accentuate that impression, and the odor of wood smoke on the wind and not the deep forest makes that impression almost irrefutable. To the east, it appears that the treeline breaks and rolls down onto an open plain.
Dernall Forest creeps right up within a few dozen feet of the King's Road here as it slopes down a broad hill towards the eastern coast. Between here and those waters is the King's Road, a wide and well-travelled road that leads northward to nearby Calidyrr and south towards the plains land that dominates that region of this island. The forest itself appears not to be rather heavy on covering the land, although the canopies of the trees do blot out much of the light from the skies above. To the north and south, a small hunting trail winds along the edge of the woods, while another, narrower and more treacherous path leads into the dark forest. The sounds of something heavy crashing through the underbrush comes from within the darkness.
Light amounts of brush cover the ground here between the trees, giving this area a look of being totally uninhabited by man. Even the narrow trail to the west looks rather unused, as the underbrush intrudes onto it as it disappears into the murky darkness to the west. To the north and south, a small dirt track circumnavigates the forest, almost parallel to the broad road a short distance away and downhill from this spot. The forest itself appears a light version of the great forests of the Moonshae Islands, mostly spruce and elm trees that are spread rather lightly across the plains land. From within the woods, a favoring breeze carries the scent of wood smoke, which makes it appear that some campers are about within the woods, enjoying a day's excursion.
Narrow trails intersect and branch away from each other, heading towards the different areas of this wooded region. Nearby, many songbirds lift their voices to the skies above from the trees around this path, while insects add their buzz circling a small carcass parked underneath a bush. To the west and south, avenues of travel disappear into darkness, lightly trodden by human feet but more heavily used by bears, deer, and the like. To the north and east, the air seems to lighten somewhat, and the treeline appears to end a distance away in each direction, towards the ocean northward and the plains land of central Alaron in the latter direction. From nearby comes the sound of something trying and failing to move silently through some thick underbrush.
The sheltering boughs of the trees overhead blot out much of the sky and winds from above, keeping the atmosphere of the forest here relatively constant and rather stagnant. Even now, the slightly disgusting smell of a decaying corpse rides the slight breeze, and the drone of a number of insects feeding on the rotting carcass comes from somewhere nearby. From here, narrow paths lead off in all four directions, the one heading south into the forest strangely receiving the most use of any of them. From that direction signs of some sort of habitation can be seen, probably a number of campers or wannabe-druids taking time to spend a while in the outdoors. To the west and north, paths wander down low hills towards the ocean, while to the east and south they just lead into darkness of the deeper forest.
Light waves roll in off the Strait of Alaron against the mossy floor of the forest here, dampening the already slippery mud and causing a small landslide towards the surf here and there. From here, muddy paths run along the shores of the water, towards the south and east and up rather dry hills into darker forest. To the side of one of these is a heavy boot, discarded by a traveller long ago and sunk deep into the ground by now. To the east and south, the drone of thousands of insects blots out the roars of the large animals of the forest and the songs of the birds alive at this hour. From that direction too comes the smell of musty earth, carried on the wind and blocking out the rather salty odor of ocean air.
The ocean and the forest of Dernall intersect here, the aqua waters holding their ground to the north and west, sending waves to brush against the coastline while the forest rises inland towards the east and south. Most of the dirt here is rather muddy, making footing slippery and precarious at best, with one false step sending the unlucky traveller out to sea and a probably watery grave. To the south, a narrow goat track rises a small hill, wanders between a small gathering of trees, and vanishes into the gloom that seems to be rising from that direction. To the east, a wider and more pleasant looking path also makes its way into the forest, but from that direction it seems that the air is far more light, and here and there signs of habitation in the plains beyond the forest are visible.
This appears to be a small copse of fir trees standing on top of this low rise, overlooking much of the northern end of Dernall Forest. In each of the four primary directions, the forest extends off to the ends of one's limited field of view. To the north and west, the ocean can be seen sparkling between and beyond the forest, while to the east the land drops some and opens out onto a broad plain near a rather large city. To the south, a hazy gloom arises from the land, blanketing the trail and the woods themselves in a deep darkness. In that direction as well are a large number of human footprints, even though this forest does not seem like the place people should be calling home.
This appears to be a moderately wooded hill, rising up to overlook both the King's Road which runs by its base and the city and palace at Calidyrr, the capital and seat of the crown for the united peoples of the Moonshae Islands. From here, the harbor at Calidyrr is visible, with part of the navy of the islands and much of the merchant marine visible, busily preparing for their next ports of call. Just south of that, the road runs along the coast and a stretch of plains land further south of it. To the north and west, this forest runs a short distance to the coast, with paths running in each direction. To the south, however, the forest darkens and spreads to cover much of the western half of southern Alaron.
The woods seem to grow rather thick here, thorn bushes and other shrubbery clogging the trails deeper into the forest. To the south, west, and north, rather narrow and rugged paths slash between the trees, darting into darkness and whatever lies beyond. From the southwest, in particular, the forest seems rather bleak and gloomy, and eerily quiet as if something or someone lay in wait for any foolish traveller to come along. To the east, a broad road runs northward to the gates of a large city, and beyond to a massive palace, the home of the king and queen of the islands. Further to the east is the Trackless Sea, the great ocean that isolates the Moonshae Isles from the rest of the realms of this world.
Dernall Forest meets the Straits of Alaron here along this wooded knoll, as the forest that surrounds this area to the east and south, and a lesser extent from the north as well spills over into the sparkling azure waters of the sea. The ground itself seems rather muddy, as the waves swamp the low-lying areas of this place. To the east and south, paths slash through the woodlands into the deeper sections of Dernall beyond. To the north and west, the waters form an impressive barricade to further movement. From inland comes the smells of the forest alive during the day: plants in bloom, the musty air of animal lairs and the unwashed odors of animals. The rather placid sounds of songbirds and insects come from that direction as well, the noise providing a pleasant distraction to the worries of the everyday world.
This is the northern tip of Dernall Forest, caught between the ocean to the west and north and the massive city of Calidyrr a short distance to the east. This point of the forest lies on a rather narrow isthmus, as beyond the city itself is another great mass of water, sparkling in the daytime sun and spanning much of one's line of sight until it disappears into the haze further out. To the south, a path leads into a thick copse of fir and evergreen trees, rather well-travelled by campers and explorers alike. From that direction as well, a favoring breeze brings signs of nature, as the damp earth of many caves beckons the curious onward. To the north, the city of Calidyrr seems wide awake, as the bustle of daily life is evident even from this distant vantage point. A broad path, the King's Road, runs in a general southern direction a short distance to the east.
This appears to be a staircase winding up the side of a tree, hidden from sight of anyone trekking down below in Dernall Forest. From above come the sounds of an entire settlement, mayhaps even a city in the treetops. Below is Dernall Forest, a light and airy woodlands area that covers much of western Alaron. From nearby, guards glare in this general direction, but assuming that anyone in Doncastle is supposed to be here, their glance quickly wanders in other directions. Below is the forest, above is the city in the treetops, supposedly a city-lair of a powerful tribe of bandits.
Crisscrossing wooden bridges soar hundreds of feet over the dirt floor of the forest below, deceptively hidden from all sight save those from up here in the city. In all four primary directions, these bridges head off towards other sections of the city, wandering towards the private residences of the bandits or towards large taverns and dining halls that line the trees. The atmosphere here seems to be that of a minor party, as the men and women here seem to have few cares, and little worry for life outside this establishment.
A wide north-south bridge intersects with a bridge that leads eastward in the general direction of central Doncastle here. Just off this bridge is a row of small houses, each one suspended hundreds of feet above the floor of Dernall Forest and hanging from strong branches that sway slightly in the breeze. This row of houses continues along the western side of this path off towards the north, while a small tavern and dining hall is south of this place. Even now, the odor of roast boar and the sounds of a wild party complete with mass amounts of drinking exude from the establishment.
A small open-air tavern lies here along a broad plank floor set just off from the rickety bridges that connect the various parts of Doncastle. All about are patrons busy partying to celebrate whatever joys are in their lives, from a new love to a successful bounty robbing travellers in the forests below. From the enclosed kitchen a short distance away, comely waitresses bring platters of roast boar and other succulent meats to the many patrons making a general ruckus at nearby tables.
A small shrine to the Earthmother, patron deity of most of the Ffolk of the Moonshae Islands sits just off the road at the intersection of these rickety bridges, right at the juncture between one path leading north and the main road seemingly running east and west. The shrine is closed at the present, the door barred to prevent thieves from wandering about inside the very holy place. To the east, larger residences of the VIP's of Doncastle, like the bandit lords and the resident mage and other such dignitaries. Towards the center of the town, a spiral staircase winds around a tree descending towards the forest below, and wary guards keep an eye on the city, quick to break up any potential fights that might arise among the rowdy bandits who call this place their home.
Two bridges join here just west of the home of Doncastle's primary wizard, forming a small but very stable platform just outside a large palatial mansion. The mansion itself is rather impressive, seemingly surrounded by a lush jungle, which obviously must be supported by the magics that the wizard employs. A full cadre of the city guard warily watches anyone who wanders near, roughly barring access to the house. The rest of this area is rather bland, as the only points of visible interest are the row of mansions continuing north of this residence here and the small shrine just to the west.
An intersecting path leading off westward across shaky suspension bridges leads away from the main bridge running north and south, appropriately dubbed 'Mansion Row' by the people of this bandit enclave. The guards very carefully monitor who comes near the mansions on this row, specifically the large one just east of here, home to the lord of Doncastle and the leader of the bandit tribes that use this town as their base to loot travellers who unwarily enter the forest below.
A small platform here marks the northeastern terminus of the wooden bridges that carry the traffic of Doncastle. To the east lies the mansion of the head priest of the Earthmother's faith for this town, while to the north is a more imposing residence belonging to one of the primary bandit lords of Doncastle. West of here is a row of small homes, many under construction as this town tries to accommodate a vastly growing population in this town's resurgence. To the south are more mansions housing the dignitaries of this town, each looking as if they were bought with the ill-gotten gains of the bandits themselves.
Two bridges intersect here, the main east-west road of the northern side of this treetop town running into another path leading off south towards the center of Doncastle and the route to the forests below. To the west and north lie a series of small homes, housing most of the people of this town in small one and two room boxes dangling from the trees. To the east are a series of large houses that are occupied by the most important people of this town, each one well guarded by a small corps of elite guards. Even now they glance this direction, alert for any trouble between the rough-and-tumble men and women that inhabit this town.
A large number of wooden and metal block-like structures dangle from the stronger branches of the large trees of this area, carefully concealed from the forest below as not to alarm any passerby with the possibility of a city up in the trees. This seems to be the primary residential district of Doncastle, a place where many bandit tribes coexist peacefully most of the time, living and loving and fighting with great passion. From here, footpaths lead across some narrow but sturdy log bridges towards other residential districts to the east and south, somewhat guarded by hardy men from the city, but more left alone in the bandit ideal of each person being responsible for him or herself. From nearby a small brawl starts, but quickly ends as other bandits break it up, each having a vested interest in keeping their comrades alive.
This appears to be the southeast tip of Alaron, staring out over the edges of the Trackless Sea that extends towards and past the horizon to the northeast all the way around a southerly route to the southwestern horizon and beyond. Even now, seagulls and albatrosses circle over the waves at a low altitude, hunting for fish to feed themselves. On land, a barren stretch of plains land starts just to the west of here, covering much of the southern half of the island as it works inland near a series of towering cliffs on the rim of the island. To the north, and underfoot, a broad road leads off along the eastern coast, following its nooks and crannies past small farmsteads and an occasional coastal cantrev.
This stretch of the King's Road rises a small hill overlooking the beaches of the eastern coast of Alaron just a short walk away to the east, beyond which lie the crystalline waters of the Trackless Sea. The area itself seems rather lifeless, with only the occasional bird dotting the sky and not a soul in sight as the nearest fishing village looks like it has been recently razed to the ground by some force. To the west, a wasteland of arid plains covers the land, with few signs of life there and even fewer signs of anything starting to grow there anytime soon. To the south, the road rises into a series of cliffs, while to the north the King's Road flattens out and runs parallel to the coast of Alaron.
A small cloud of dust rises up over the King's Road here, blown in by a rather unfavorable breeze from the west also bringing the horrid stench of the dead lands there. Here, the King's Road runs at the edge of that broad plain and right next to a rocky beach that borders along the great ocean to the east. Little life is discernible in this region of Alaron, save for the buzzards and vultures and other signs of death and decay on the lands westward. To the north and west, however, patches of green begin showing up along the plains land, bringing with it a clear indication that this whole island is not dead as it might seem from this part of it. A vulture shrieks out across the sky, and all of a sudden the air is alight with the fluttering of wings.
The road runs north and south just a few hundred yards from the crashing surf of the Trackless Sea along the eastern coast of Alaron here, separating the beach and ocean from plains land to the west. The road itself is rather unimpressive, just a broad dirt path that seems to have more importance than it should. Along the coast here and there are small houses and cantrevs, the fishing villages of the region. To the west, the plains land is brown and rather mucky, looking dead for all intents and purposes to the world, as buzzards and vultures circle overhead, occasionally diving to pick at something. Further to the west, on the extreme northerly horizon, the beginnings of fertile land and maybe a forest are visible from here.
The King's Road continues to cut a general north-south path through rather barren plains land here along the eastern coast, rising a small hill to overlook the whole region, from the cursed lands westward to the Trackless Sea which starts a short distance to the east and spans the field of view to the horizon. Little life is evident in this region, just the occasional fishing village perched precariously on the edge of the waters. To the north, the land seems to get healthier, as the colors of life, a variety of greens, replace the brown and black that make up the southern plains in that direction. The King's Road continues to parallel the eastern coast for quite a distance.
The King's Road rises over a small ridge and topples down the backside, continuing a long journey along the coast that seems to have no end in sight. From here, a large portion of the arid plains of Southern Alaron are visible, most of it rather dead and corrupted looking, simply a featureless smear of an ugly shade of brown. To the northwest, greenery starts sprawling across the land, a sign that this region of the islands is not entirely dead. The waters of the Trackless Sea sparkle from the east, beyond the coastline and the small fishing towns there, whereas the King's Road continues to the north and south.
A broad dirt road separates the rather rocky shores of Alaron from the great mass of plains to the general west, a terrain type that spreads across the whole of the south of the island. The grasslands themselves look only as if they are partially healthy, as large blotches of dead grass and corrupted earth rise out of otherwise green land. Only a few farms, manned by the most hardy of workers dots this part of the plains, most sane Ffolk preferring to work more fertile lands blessed by the Earthmother goddess of the land. To the east glitters a large body of water, the Trackless Sea, which provides a natural border to this land. From over the waves, the sharp cries of many seagulls reverberate across the breeze, echoing through the crisp, salty air.
The King's Road begins to be more heavily travelled here, with even some of the royal guards from the distant capital walking around, keeping all in order. The trail itself runs between the plains to the west and the coastline to the east, separating the farming types from the fishing types. Small fishing towns dot the coast, each with a few miles from its neighbors, their hardy populace gaining their living from the Trackless Sea which glitters beyond. To the west are fertile plains land, with farms and small cantrevs rising out of there as well, drifting gradually off to the south until the land degenerates into a blasted wasteland, devoid of all life save the vultures who circle overhead like the harbingers of doom. The King's Road runs all along the seaboard, running close to Whitefish Bay in the distant north.
This is a rather hilly region of southern Alaron, lying just to the east of the brush lands that dominate this area of the Moonshaes. Said brush lands, to the west and covering much of the southlands, are primarily fertile fields actively farmed by the Ffolkmen and Ffolkwomen who call these lands home. To the south, beyond the fields, is a scorched and blackened area of plains land, a desolate area where nothing stands. The King's Road runs alongside this area of fields, just overlooking rocky shores of the Trackless Sea as it approaches Whitefish Bay to the north. Along the shoreline are a number of small houses and villages, the residences of those peasants who look to the sea for their sustenance.
The sturdy King's Road approaches a curve to the north, as the shoreline cuts into the island at the edge of Whitefish Bay, the natural harbor that services Calidyrr. Even now, the castle that towers over the town is in sight through the mist and haze of the bay. The King's Road itself follows the coast very closely, leaving only a small stretch of rocky beach between it and the waters of the ocean. To the west, fertile plains cover the land, farms and small towns interspersed with fields and grazing pastures. To the south, the road continues to hug the eastern coast, well out of sight over a series of small ridges in that direction.
The King's Road runs right up to the roaring surf of the ocean here, turning there to run along the edge of the sea as it curves from west to south along the rim of the water. The path itself is rather boring, just a wide swath of mud and dirt carved out away from the land by the constant trod of endless footsteps. Further inland, grassy fields take over from less hospitable climes, well tilled by the hard labor of the peasantry, who use the fertile land to grow the crops vital to the economy of the islands.
A broad swath of muddy road slashes along the southern coast of Whitefish Bay, running parallel to the sandy shores that lie a few hundred feet north and downwards of it. To the south are the grasslands and fertile plains of central and southern Alaron, mostly used for farming and grazing by the hardworking Ffolk who live on the land. The path itself runs west, and east for a short distance before turning towards the south as it reaches the ocean beyond. In the distance on the western horizon is a dark forest, while to the north and through the haze, a castle rises out of the mists.
A pleasant breeze blows in off the rather calm waters of Whitefish Bay to the north, cooling this region of the King's Road somewhat as it suffers under the heat of the daytime sun. The King's Road itself is a rather plain dirt path, leading east and west near the shoreline, with only a thin stretch of sandy beach providing a barrier between the road and the waters. To the south, the sounds of work and livestock carry over the wind, echoing out of the fertile regions of southern Alaron. In the distance to the west lies Dernall Wood, a dark forest in which many bandits roam, while towards the north, the city of Calidyrr can be seen through the midday haze.
The broad dirt trail known as the King's Road runs alongside the shores of the waters of the harbor that serves the grand castle at Calidyrr, east towards the endless seas in the distance that way, and due west towards a looming forest to the west. The path itself is rather bland, just a relatively straight but muddy swath running about a hundred yards from the waters. From the south come the sounds of farms and small towns, probably from the homesteads and such that dot a large portion of the Central Plains in that direction. Looking out over the waters to the north, a gleaming castle can be seen rising above all else in the distance.
The east-west running King's Road serves as a convenient line of demarcation between the large, inhabited regions of the fertile grasslands to the south and Whitefish Bay to the north. The plains are heavily populated by honest and hardworking peasantry, who spend much of their lives raising the food on which much of the Moonshaes live, while the bay is the natural harbor that services a large section of Alaron. The King's Road is a muddy trail that divides them, about four hundred feet away from the sparkling waters, and running out of sight over some small hills to the east and towards a forest to the west. A salty but rather warm and pleasant breeze wafts off of the waters.
The King's road pivots here, turning to run along the edges of Whitefish Bay here at the northwestern end of the Central Plains. Directly to the west, a short distance away up a small line of hills, lies a dark forest, the woods of Dernall, which house a large and powerful group of bandits according to local rumor and tale. To the south, the Central Plains, a fertile grasslands area, provides employment for many peasantry and the lifeblood of much of this island. To the north and east, the broad trail known as the King's Road continues, a mostly dirt and mud path that runs north and east from this location. In the distance to the north, the city of Calidyrr towers over the isthmus on which it sits, and its proximity is probably responsible for the increasing number of royal guards patrolling around here.
The King's Road here runs north and south along a narrow neck of land rising a small hill between Dernall Wood to the west and Whitefish Bay to the east. The road itself is little more than a well-worn trail, with deep cart tracks visible as this road is used a lot to transport goods back and forth from the southlands to the capital and harbor at Calidyrr, even now visible to the distant north. A brisk wind blows off the bay to the east, bringing a gradual cooling of the area here, and the odor of salt and fish with it. To the south, the path descends a small hill and heads towards the plains lands of southern Alaron.
The King's Road tops a small rise and spills over the backside, meandering on its north-south path between the Central Plains over the southern horizon and the palace at Calidyrr, rapidly approaching to the north. The road itself serves as the thin border between dark Dernall Wood, famous for its tribes of bandits, and Whitefish Bay, the natural channel and harbor that separates the capital city from the ocean beyond. Even now, small merchant vessels of the Moonshae Islands sail around the harbor, dropping off goods and passengers, or picking them up to take to ports of distant call.
The King's Road follows a narrow path just east of the Dernall Forest here, perched between the bandit-infested woods and Whitefish Bay. The road itself is a rather bland dirt path, wider than most walking paths, particularly in this region of the countryside, and rather heavily patrolled. The patrols themselves are probably due to the proximity of Caer Calidyrr, the spectacular castle from which the High Queen rules over the peaceful lands of all the Ffolk. The road itself seems to lead north to that location precisely, while travelling south out of sight and over the horizon in the other direction.
The road slides down into a small depression in the ground, slightly muddy as it drops below the sea level established by the waters to the east. Those waters, mostly a harbor serving the port city of Calidyrr, even now are filled with a large number of vessels, many of them recreational but a few displaying the flag of the kingdom, indicating their use as a merchant fleet. The city which those ships call home is along the King's Road to the north, whereas the path also runs south. To the west, a short but steep hill rises up into the forests of Dernall Wood, a dark and spooky forest.
The King's Road begins to rise a hill towards the north, all as it approaches the palace and city of Calidyrr rapidly approaching from that direction. Even now the pennant representing the Kendrick dynasty can be seen flying proudly above the great palace, symbolizing the current residence of the High Queen of the Ffolk. Other terrain features are present and no less spectacular. A dark and eerie forest, Dernall Wood, lies up a rise towards the west. The forest seems rather deserted, but local rumor and the occasional tale mark the place as a known region of bandit activity, and to be avoided if possible. To the east lies Whitefish Bay, a sparkling body of water that serves as a calm harbor to the city mentioned earlier, and serving as the largest harbor of all the islands. The King's Road itself runs north and south, dropping somewhat as it heads out towards the Central Plains of southern Alaron, and is heavily watched by a strong cadre of armed guards.
The King's Road runs along a narrow ridge just overlooking the harbor east of the city of Calidyrr here, north to the gates of the capital and south towards the lands of southern Alaron. The harbor itself is rather calm, with merchant vessels of Ffolk and Northmen alike mingling along the shores. The city itself is a glittering array of buildings, all surrounded by a towering stone wall with a lone gate at the end of the road. To the west lies a heavily wooded region, most likely the forest of Dernall where bandits are known to hold at least one mighty stronghold. To the south, the King's Road descends the ridge and runs along a series of flatlands near the bay.
The King's Road ends here, between the northern edge of Dernall and the west gate of Calidyrr. The road itself starts here and runs along a narrow ridge to the south and down some hills into the flatlands, all running along the western edge of Whitefish Bay. To the north, the land rises into heavily wooded hills and ridges, towards the Fairheight Mountains and the earldom bearing the same name. To the west lies the Trackless Sea, a sparkling body of water separating the islands from one another. Walking by are a few guards, waving to passers by and making sure that no one gets out of control or starts picking pockets along this road.
This is the sturdy west gate of Calidyrr, one of two access points into this, the capital city of the Moonshae Islands. The gates themselves are plain but strong wood anchored firmly between the towering stone walls of the gatehouse. Numerous guards watch the gate, carefully controlling access to this city. From here, the King's Road starts just outside of town, running south towards the south of Alaron, while a hunting trail leads into the hills to the north, the earldom of Fairheight. The Street of the Lone Wolf heads eastward into town, running into a dense residential district.
This is a rather busy intersection within the city of Calidyrr itself. To the west of here is the main gate, the only access point to the city or to the rest of the island on this end of town. To the east, the Street of the Lone Wolf heads off towards the center of town, running into a rather dense district of houses and apartments. To the north and south, a cobblestone road runs alongside the stone walls protecting the city. Most of those roads are rather clear of all distractions, with only guard barracks along the way to break up an otherwise monotonous trail.
This is a narrow road running through a dense residential district. The road itself heads east through a series of houses and apartments, occupied for the most part by merchants and the rest of the middle classes who live here within the city. In the distance to the east appears to be an open square, somewhat of a gathering place for the population. To the west, the road seems to intersect with a north-south avenue, and then continue up to the main gates of town, where a guard post takes over the area, controlling access to the rest of the island.
This is a dense residential district, seemingly overflowing with the homes and workplaces of a number of merchants and other skilled laborers like artisans and blacksmiths. The Street of the Lone Wolf runs a paved pathway to the west towards more residences. To the east, the roadway vanishes into a teeming crowd of people in the public square of this town. A couple of guards stroll here and there, keeping order and shooing dangerous looking people away from unattended stalls and buildings.
This is a large square situated at the intersection of the two major roads of Calidyrr. Most of this square is covered by carts and stalls selling almost every sort of good imaginable, from simple things like fruit to weaponry, or even exotic fabrics from distant lands. Too, the variety of people is just as great as the variety of objects available, ranging from the slim Ffolk to rather brawny northmen, to even the occasional slender Llewyrr elf. Roads lead out of the square in all directions, mostly to residential districts, but also a route to the docks to the east.
The road here is a rather filthy cobblestone affair running between rows of shanties and warehouses heading into the dock ward. That ward is to the east; even now the piers and harbor are in sight past the teeming crowds of that section of town. To the south, a stately inn rises above the streets, very much conspicuous by its cleanliness. To the west, the road opens up into a broad square that sprawls over much of the central section of the city. A fresh, salty breeze blows through the block, clearing out the stench of stale goods rotting in the nearby warehouses.
This narrow cobblestone lane runs between a number of tall, stone structures as it makes its way towards the dock ward eastward. Even now, the piers and various ships moored at them are in sight in that direction. Between here and the piers, another road crosses this one, running north and south past the rows of warehouses that comprise the district. To the west, this neighborhood shows little change, with a few residences and a stately inn mixed in along the aging buildings holding goods for the kingdom. A chill, salty breeze cuts through the area now, making one shiver in the cold of the area.
East-west Street of the Lone Wolf crosses Harbor Road here, forming a small square of cobblestone under which a lot of traffic seems to cross. To the east is Calidyrr harbor, the main seaport of all the islands, handling most of the passenger and cargo traffic that enters or leaves this region of the world. Even now, ships make ready to depart for the Sword Coast, among other lands. To the north and south, Harbor Road runs between rows of warehouses and also some guard barracks, since patrols at the harbor region are rather frequent and firm. To the west, the Street of the Lone Wolf bisects the town, heading into a district of warehouses and residences.
Ships are boarding here for the return trip to the main land of Toril.
This intersection marks the northern terminus of Wall Road, so named since it parallels the outer western wall of the city of Calidyrr. Just to the north lies the southern walls of Caer Calidyrr, the majestic palace symbolizing the leadership of the islands. Palace Road starts here and runs east, through a rather lavish residential district that appears reserved for the very wealthy and foreign dignitaries. A small cadre of guards alertly watches the property around here, probably hired as extra protection by the elite to keep their holdings secure from the occasional pickpocket seen wandering down the street.
The towering stone walls of Calidyrr's outer defenses shield most of the road from the outside world. In fact, the wall makes an efficient western barrier to the continuation of the city. Wall Road here runs north and south through a small neighborhood mostly comprised of essential buildings, from granaries to guard barracks. Needless to say, a heavy guard presence is indicated by the occasional patrol passing through. To the south lies the main gate to the city, while to the north lies the southern walls of grand Caer Calidyrr, the palace from which the royal family rules the islands.
This is a rather sunny lane running alongside the western wall of Calidyrr. To the north lies the heavily guarded main gate, controlling access to the rest of the island of Alaron as well as to the rest of the Moonshae Islands in a fashion. To the south lies the southern walls of the city, where another road begins and runs east into another district. Most of the buildings here are controlled and owned by the city itself, whether a small guard barracks or a couple of official buildings like the city hall. A couple of scruffy looking fellows scramble out of the way as a couple of guards march down the street towards new posts, or on some general patrol.
This is the southwest corner of Calidyrr, a corner separating two distinct districts of the town. To the north lies Wall Road, running along the western border of the city through a section that is mostly government-owned and used. To the east lies the first of a series of small temples and shrines. Even now the first of a large number of places of worship of the Earthmother Goddess are in sight in the distance to the east. All in all, a sense of general peace lies over this area of town, even more evidenced by the lack of guards that patrol this region for troublemakers, which also are conspicuously absent.
This intersection lies just south of the gatehouse to the castle on the hill to the north. Northman's Way runs south through a commercial district and then into the market square of the city, visible even through the milling crowds now on the streets. To the east and west, Palace Road runs through lavish housing groups and well-appointed townhouses and apartments occupied by vacationers and visiting diplomats. A small number of guards stands here grimly observing the goings on of daily life in Calidyrr, stepping in now and then to help someone or breaking up a small squabble or minor crime with a sturdy hand.
This appears to be the commercial district of the city, with many small shops jutting out part way into the street. Above the stores appear to be cramped residences stacked almost to get as many people into living space as possible with little regard for comfort. Large crowds jostle people as they move about, often heading south towards the city square. To the north appears to be a large gate leading into the gardens in front of the palace where the royal family lives and directs the affairs of this quaint realm. A couple of guards are interspersed throughout the crowd, keeping order and accosting any thieves or pickpockets looking for easy pickings in such an area.
Northman's Way runs here through the center of town, just south of market square and comprising a small part of the commercial district. Even now, large crowds patronize the stores set up here on the western side of this road. To the north lies the market square, where a majority of the city's business takes place every day, people from all parts of these islands trading goods with visitors arriving from the harbor. To the south lies Moonwell Avenue, the road on which the temple district lies. To the east rises the Inn of the Black Boar, known throughout all the Moonshaes for its good food and hospitality. Its door swings open to the east, bringing the sounds and smells of good times out into the roads.
Moonwell Avenue and Northman's Way intersect here, bringing a bit of life to this otherwise silent street. Moonwell Avenue is a generally quiet section of town, running east and west through the southern section of town between a large number of diverse shrines. To the north, a busy road runs through the town's commercial district, with many shops apparent in the bustle of the crowds approaching Market Square. A warm breeze blows through the streets, touching one's soul and warming one's body as it carries the sounds of chanting and praying.
The imposing obstacles of Whitefish Bay to the east and Caer Calidyrr's walls to the north blockade travel in both directions from here. Palace Road runs parallel to those outer walls, starting here and heading off west towards the main gatehouse visible in the distance through the milling crowds. Down that way appears to be lavish apartments and townhouses, the property of the wealthy and homes appointed to diplomats and other important personages. To the south, the squalid dock ward occupies most of the way, with piers along the ocean and taverns and warehouses on the western side of Harbor Road. A small cadre of guards keeps watch from atop the palace walls, making sure no trouble begins in this fair city.
Harbor Road runs a rather bumpy but straight course north and south along the waterfront of Calidyrr. To the east lies the harbor, and a large number of occupied piers. Even now, the sounds of Northmen and Ffolk, as well as hundreds of other nationalities of humans, echo from the moored ships. A warm breeze also blows in from that direction, bringing along with it the invigorating odor of the open sea. To the west lie a number of squalid structures, mostly used as warehouses to store durable goods, but also a small number of taverns and other drinking establishments patronized by sailors and other lowlifes. A small handful of guards moves along the street as well, prodding some to move along. To the south lies the main docks, and a large avenue crossing Harbor Road, while to the north, the towering outer walls of majestic Caer Calidyrr are clearly visible to the naked eye.
This is a rather poorly maintained road running along the waterfront of Calidyrr and the harbor known as Whitefish Bay. To the east lie the placid waters of that bay, serving as a safe harbor to bring in trade to the Moonshae Islands. To the north and south, Harbor Road runs along the piers, most of which are currently occupied by ships loading and unloading to some extent. A heavy guard presence is indicated by the constant patrols marching along the street, moving drunkards along and stopping fights, as well as making sure that nothing ill comes to the visiting merchants and marines. Along the west side of the street are some warehouses and the occasional grubby tavern, serving only to give sailors a place to blow their cash. To the north and south, streets seem to intersect this road, leading west into town.
The temple district meets the city docks here as Moonwell and Harbor cross one another here in the southeast corner of town. To the east lies the open waters of the ocean, and Calidyrr's safe harbors. A few ships line up at these distant wharves, good only for loading and unloading cargo. To the west, Moonwell Avenue leads into a series of shrines, with some devoted to almost every immortal deity imaginable that might be worshipped by the humans of these islands. A small cadre of guards keeps watch over the area, monitoring to see that poachers and thieves don't cause any trouble with the visiting sailors.
This appears to be close to the western end of Palace Road, with the western walls of Calidyrr nearby at the intersection of Wall Road. Palace Road runs through a lavish residential district to the east, heading towards the gates to majestic Caer Calidyrr, which towers even now over the rest of the city and the sturdy stone walls to the north. A small barracks occupies a small building near the townhouses on the southern side of the road, and a couple of guards stroll around the area making sure all is in order on this day. A warm breeze blows down the street, washing one's cares away as he or she basks in the terrific weather Calidyrr seems to be enjoying.
This avenue runs by a series of townhouses clustered together on the south side of the street, rather nice looking and occupied by visiting diplomats from distant realms. To the west, this district continues until it bumps up against the western walls of the city, while to the east Palace Road intersects another street just south of the main gate of the palace whose outer walls form the northern side of this road. Guards march up and down the road, maintaining order and providing protection to the average citizen strolling along this pleasant street. One of them turns and smiles at some children playing in the yard of one of the houses, who wave and shout in return.
Palace Road runs through a residential district here, paralleling the south wall of Caer Calidyrr, the majestic palace from which the royal family rules all the kingdoms of the islands. To the east the housing continues, fancy townhouses and apartments mixed in with opulent mansions of the rich and famous that live in Calidyrr. To the west, the gatehouse of the palace sticks out into the intersection of Palace Road with a route that leads south into the center of town. Even now, some of the guards gaze this way, making sure none of the low class rabble drifts in from the wharves in the distance to the east, and in other ways keeping order over the town. A warm breeze blows down the road from the east, bringing the pleasant salty smell of the ocean with it.
This east-west boulevard parallels the sturdy stone walls that mark the outer perimeter of Caer Calidyrr, the palace from which the High Queen rules the diverse kingdoms of the Ffolk. The road itself is well lit and maintained to the point of meticulous repair, mixing in well with the lavish mansions of the upper classes located along the southern end of this street. To the west lies more of this upper crust residential district, as well as housing for diplomats and other VIPs that might need residence within the city. To the east lies the waterfront, a section of town that looks rather filthy and forgotten by the people who live here. A small squad of guards move down the street, checking that nothing adverse happens in this region of the town.
This quiet tree-lined lane parallels the southern wall of Calidyrr. The road itself seems to lead through the city's temple district, as small shrines and places of worship seem to be just about every other building along this stretch. It seems fully half to two-thirds of the buildings are devoted in one sense or another to the goddess Earthmother, the patron deity of these islands. To the east and west, this road continues, a rather easy trail towards other sections of town.
This quiet tree-lined lane continues past a large number of shrines set up in whatever space could be found from them, each one as diverse as the deity that they are honoring. Other than that, this is an east-west thoroughfare along the southern walls of Calidyrr. The road itself is rather quiet, with few people around to cause any commotion in what appears to be a holy region of the city. Too, there is a distinct lack of guards, as it seems to be out of place for either some sort of police presence, or for any lawbreakers to populate this region of the town.
This is the Inn of the Black Boar, the primary choice of stay for short-term visitors to the city of Calidyrr. Over in one corner stands the innkeeper, who directs the running of his establishment, from making sure guests get enough to eat with their meals to handling reservations and checking guests into rooms. To the north lies an exit onto the Street of the Lone Wolf, the main artery of this city running between the west gate of town and the harbor to the east. Westward lies an exit onto the commercial district known as Northman's Way. From both directions come the sounds of a midsized city alive and at work.
Moonwell Avenue runs east and west here, paralleling the southern wall for the most part in this area of the city. Just to the south is the largest and most massive shrine to the goddess Earthmother on this island. Not a building, but instead a glowing pond of milky, white water is this shrine, surrounded by a series of small pillars and statues. Even now, a couple of minor druids are kneeling at the side of the pool, seeking guidance and blessings from their chosen deity. An awesome feeling of peace and tranquillity settles over this area, and even the guards and ruffians leave this place alone, sensing that neither trouble nor any show of force will be tolerated here. A warm breeze blows in from the piers to the east, cleansing the smells of the city from this area.
This appears to be the eastern terminus of Calidyrr's temple district. On both sides of the street are shrines devoted to Tempus and Talos, the favored gods of the warlike Northmen. To the west, Moonwell Avenue continues past a number of other shrines, including a majestic Moonwell shrine devoted solely to the goddess Earthmother. The whole street has a peaceful aura on it, as neither guards nor ruffians are present. To the east is the dock ward and harbor region of the city, and even now ships of many nations can be seen moored at the piers.
This is the majestic Calidyrr Moonwell, one of the few pools of milky water receiving the benign blessing of the goddess Earthmother. Very few are permitted entrance into this, the most holy of any shrine devoted to that deity. A feeling of utter tranquillity settles over the region, cleansing the spirit and providing guidance to the followers of the goddess. To the north is a narrow tree-lined lane, part of the city of Calidyrr.
This is the blocky outer gatehouse of the palace of Caer Calidyrr. This building is little more than a slightly over-glorified guard barracks in and of itself, with room for a couple of guards to relax and have some fun while they serve as the outer defense of the castle and royal family. To the south, one exit opens up into the city of Calidyrr, at one of the major intersections of the northern end of the city. To the north, the lavish courtyard and gardens of the castle beckon visitors and travelers to relax and unwind in the safety of the palace grounds.
This is the central portion of the gardens of Calidyrr. To the east and west lie a lavish display of druidic might, with all sorts of exotic flowery plants strewn about here and there and kept alive by magic and the grace of the goddess Earthmother. To the north, beyond the gardens lies the castle itself, a shining wonder towering over the city of Calidyrr. To the south lies a low, blocky building that appears to serve as a barracks or gatehouse. Even now, a couple of guards stare lazily in this direction, making sure nothing foul is transpiring inside the home of the royal family.
This is the western end of the gardens of Calidyrr. Those gardens start here with arrangements of flowers in colorful arrays and continue to the east, past the blocky gatehouse and off towards the far walls of the castle. That castle itself rises a small hill to the north, looming over everything in sight and casting long shadows over the city of Calidyrr. To the north appears to be the main courtyard of the palace, with its main entrance out of sight behind all the pottery. A couple of citizens wander here and there, admiring the beauty of the gardens and relaxing in the tranquillity of this area.
This is the western end of the grand courtyard of Caer Calidyrr. To the east continues the stonework that starts here, although it does show a bit of tarnish and disrepair. The area is largely unoccupied, just a guard or two staring at this location as he scans the grounds he is duty-bound to watch. To the east lies the front gates of the castle, also rather heavily guarded by significant manpower. To the south lies the beautiful gardens of the castle, a sign of the blessing and benevolence of the goddess Earthmother who keeps the various exotic plants alive and thriving.
This is the central courtyard lying just in front of the great palace at Calidyrr. The courtyard looks to have suffered from some disuse, as maybe it seems there hasn't been an awful lot to celebrate around here for a couple of years now. To the west and east, this courtyard continues, showing just as much neglect on each end as it does here. To the north are the front gates of the castle, leading into a massive hallway that serves to connect most of the lower level of the castle. A couple of guards wander here and there, making sure that all is in order.
This is the eastern end of the grand courtyard of Caer Calidyrr. Most of the area is covered by broad stonework, poorly kept up though by the moss and weeds here and there appearing through cracks in the stone. To the south lies part of the lavish gardens of the palace, gifts from the druids of the lands and a sign of the favor of the goddess Earthmother on the present ruling family. To the west lies the main entrance to the castle, guarded now by a couple of stern looking young men whose sole interest is to prevent harm from coming to the royal family. To the east and north lie tall stone walls, unclimbable by any and closely watched by more guards to make sure those walls aren't used in any way against any law.
This is the eastern portion of the gardens lying in front of and below Caer Calidyrr. Most of this area is covered by colorful arrangements of exotic flowers of one form or another, many not native to this region of the world but instead cultivated by druids friendly to the throne. Various townsfolk wander through the area, awed by the beautiful panorama. To the west lies a blocky structure situated between the gardens and the rest of Calidyrr, providing the only access to and from the town itself. To the north lies the main courtyard of the castle, presently unoccupied since the kingdom has no need of it for some ceremonial purpose.
This is the main hall of the majestic castle overlooking Calidyrr. This is a room that seems to run almost endlessly to the north, towards a distant set of double doors, and also a bit to the south, before vanishing beneath a stone arch and out into the courtyards of Caer Calidyrr. To the west and east, the hall runs a short distance until it too runs into large, oaken doors. Through the slightly open doors to the west, the servants' quarters can be seen, with a few of the off-duty ones lounging there even now. To the east comes the smell of roast boar, which must comprise the menu for tonight's meal. Next to the kitchen lies a spiral staircase, heading up into the upper reaches of the castle and towards the main watchtower.
This is a mid-sized room with all sorts of junk sprawled around the area. A number of beds take up most of the space, with only a large semicircle of area near the doors on the eastern wall clear of most of the clutter. From the look of this room, and the occupants inside, this is probably the servants' quarters, not only because of the general simplicity of this room but from the women in maids' uniforms chatting quietly in one corner. Despite all else, this room has a rather homelike feeling to it, making one want to settle in and join the staff of Caer Calidyrr. There are no other visible exits besides the doors into the main hallway.
This is clearly the kitchen of the castle, not only indicated by the working chef in the center of the room slaving over some feast for the royal family, but by the presence of other food preparation related items. Assisting the cook in his duties are several venerable servants who look like they've worked with the man a long time, helping him with his duties. The room itself is very clean and superbly organized, further a testament to the cook's skills. To the west, a doorway leads out into the main hall of the castle. There are no other exits to this room.
This is the northern end of the massive hall of Caer Calidyrr. To the south, the hall seems to stretch to the limits of one's vision, disappearing into the courtyards and gardens of the palace beyond. From here, the library and the combination dining hall/banquet room are both visible to the east and the west, respectively. To the north stand a couple of rather burly guards who observe all who progress to and from the throne room to the north. To the south lies the rest of the main hall, including stairs up to the second floor of the palace and doors to the kitchen and servants' quarters.
This appears to be the overlarge banquet hall of Caer Calidyrr, mostly used as a dining hall since there are very few celebrations, even in a kingdom like this. The hall extends a long way from north to south, with a huge wooden table running down the center of the room and bisecting it. To the west, large windows overlook the city of Calidyrr and the southern reaches of the Fairheight earldom, while to the east doors lead back into the hallways of the castle itself.
This is the quiet library of Caer Calidyrr, well stocked as a legacy of the late Princess Deirdre who used this room as her personal retreat from the rigors of palace life. Books on almost any conceivable topic can be found here if one were to look long enough through the musty shelves. For the most part, this room is left alone, empty and quiet since few of the people who live here have the time or inclination to study the outside world all that much. A doorway leads to the west out into the halls, while curtained windows overlook the bay and harbor to the east.
This is the front half of the majestic throne room of Caer Calidyrr. This part of the room is mostly empty, with but a few guards observing those people who are standing here awaiting audience with the royal family. The room is mostly solid stone, with panoramic windows on the east and west side of the room overlooking the city of Calidyrr nearby. At the northern end of the room stand two massive thrones, as well as a couple of other chairs on a raised dais, probably the seats for the High Queen, King, and their advisors when court is in session, which does not appear to be the case now.
This appears to be the northern end of the throne room, and most definitely the end that receives more regular use. A raised stone dais occupies a large part of this end of the room, with two large thrones and several other well appointed chairs occupying it. To the south lies the other end of this great hall, complete with elite royal guards whose only purpose is to maintain the safety of anyone in this chamber. The sun shines through some windows on the east and west sides of this room.
This is the luxurious upper hallway of Caer Calidyrr, a fortune of finery and other stuff strewn about here on the second floor of the castle. To the north, south, east and west all are solid oaken doors, leading into private chambers of various people who live here in the palace. In one corner lies a stone stairway leading both down and up. Above come the sounds of the wind whistling through the city, so it's probably a watchtower up there. Downward would probably lead to the main part of the castle itself.
This bedchamber appears to be mostly unused by its appearance. Rather than having a number of items symbolizing its occupant, the drawers and shelves of this room remain mysteriously blank, but unlike the other guest chamber on this floor, it appears to be assigned to someone by the unknown runes carved into the doors on the western wall of this room. A large, glass window overlooks the harbor and Whitefish Bay along the eastern end of this city. That window seems to be the only significant feature of this room.
This appears to be among the quietest of rooms here in the second floor of Caer Calidyrr. From its orderly appearance, and the knowledge one has of the royal family, this room is probably the chambers of Keane, the royal wizard. The scattered books and parchments on the desk in one corner serve only to back that viewpoint. Most of the rest of the room is left unoccupied, with the lone exception of a couple of placid paintings hanging on one wall, depicting scenes of nature for the most part. A large double door lies within the east wall; it leads out into the rest of the castle.
This appears to be the master bedchambers of Caer Calidyrr. A large double bed occupies a good section of the room, pretty much in disarray as the servants may not have gotten to cleaning up here yet. In one corner of the room, large double windows look out upon the Fairheight Earldom and its lush forests, clean and pristine under the midday sun. Along the southern wall is a large double door leading out into the hallways of the castle. Other than that, this room is very much nondescript, with nothing of note to even the most discerning of explorers.
This appears to be the primary guest bedchamber at the castle. Softly lit by a number of candles set around the room, the room exudes qualities of luxury and comfort to whomever stays here. A light feather bed lies along the southern wall just beneath a small window overlooking the city above which this castle stands. To the north lies a large double door, leading out to the rest of this castle, although why one would want to leave such comfort as this chamber behind is a mystery in and of itself.
A brisk wind whips past the balcony overlooking the lands of Alaron for a very long distance in all directions here. This is the castle watchtower, used by guards mainly to get a birds-eye view of what is transpiring in the nearby lands, and also as a useful way to monitor the harbor and Whitefish Bay for any problems in that area. A couple of stern looking guards occupy sheltered posts staring out over the land, their posts insulated from the chill wind that is a genuine threat to freeze any careless observer. A narrow staircase leads down from the center of the tower into the castle itself.
This appears to be a narrow hunting trail heading up into the mountains to the north, the Fairheight Earldom reigned over by a loyal subject of the High Queen. To the east and west, the hilly land vanishes into the darkness of encroaching forest, which in itself is rather eerie looking outside of the fact that firbolgs and trolls are known to reside within the region, a threat to travelers everywhere. To the north, the path itself rises into the hills as it nears the mining towns near the earl's residence.
The narrow hunting track that serves as a road for Fairheight takes a sharp turn from east to south as it heads towards the center of the island of Alaron and the Ffolk kingdom located there. In the distance above the treeline of the mountainous areas is the shining city of Calidyrr, the seat of power for the diverse peoples of the Moonshae Islands. To the north and east, the region is plunged into dark forests, which serve as good hiding spots for the firbolgs and trolls that are brigands upon this region of the world. To the west, the trail climbs ever higher into the hills, heading towards a couple of plumes of jet black smoke indicating some sort of residence in the distance. The cries of a wolf pack on the hunt reverberate through this valley, haunting but wonderful music in and of itself.
The trail takes a sharp turn along the broad side of a rather steep hill here as it stops running south and begins heading away to the east. To the south and west lie dark forests, as much feared for their pitfalls as for the various creatures known to be hiding within them. Along the trail to the north is both a sturdy stone structure, home to the earl of Fairheight, and a mining town very much carved out of the forest. The trail runs between a large swath of forest out of sight to the north, but turns again shortly to the east, heading towards the southern lowlands of the island.
The hunting track runs through a stretch of rocky hills here, twisting around various obstacles in its north-south path. To either side, the land falls away into dark and foreboding forests, cries of wolves and other animals echoing from within it and grunts of more humanoid figures coming from there as well. To the north, a short distance away, is a large manor house standing on the west side of the trail, probably the residence of Earl Hanrald Blackstone of Fairheight. Across the road from his manor lies a small mining town, inky black clouds of soot and smoke rising up from within it to color the sky. To the south, the trail continues along a mountain side and turns towards the east.
The narrow trail runs by populated Fairheight here, with a proud manor house standing on the west side of the trail and a small mining cantrev just across the road from it, spewing black smoke into the sky from the various industries that the mined ore feeds. To the north and south, this trail continues along the ridge lines here, winding its way between the dark forests of the region. To the east, and beyond the town, another trail winds up a hill towards a lake in the distance. The lake is unusual that it glows with a milky white light, even when it is in total darkness. To the west and downhill is the northern part of the Straits of Alaron, the inlet separating this island from Gwynneth.
The trail starts downward as it heads to the north, working its way out of the most mountainous regions of the island of Alaron. The Fairheight earldom is as well known for its mining wealth as it is for its dark and foreboding forests which bracket the trail to the east and west. From the forests come a number of hostile sounds, whether they be a pack of wolves on the hunt or the grunts of various humanoid bandits working their way between the trees. To the south lies both a manor house and a small town, but other than that civilization appears to be rather absent from this region.
The winding trail curves again here, heading off eastward towards the far reaches of Fairheight, and south up into the mountains towards the mining towns producing the inky black smoke rising up into the sky there. Also visible to the south is a large manor house poking out of the foreboding forests that are on either side of the trail. The forests themselves don't seem all that much of a threat, but the creatures rumored to be hiding in the darkness probably are. To the north, the land flattens out into broad plains, representing the lands of the barbaric Northmen of Olafstaad and Gnarhelm. Those plains extend as far as the eye can see, pushing out into the Trackless Sea that surrounds the region.
The hunting trail winds along the foothills of the Fairheight Earldom, just north of the mountains and just south of the lands of the Northmen, staunch allies of the Ffolk. Light forest covers a lot of this region, not quite as evil looking as the dark forests on the upper slopes to the north, but still capable of hiding a couple of bandits and the like. The lands to the north are little more than flat steppes, rather barren of life as the Northmen pay little care to them outside of natural territory. In the distance to both the east and west, the Trackless Sea is visible at the edges of one's field of vision. The hunting trail continues north and west from here.
The beginnings of a rather rustic road are here, leading south into the hilly regions of Fairheight, which rise beyond that into mountains and a general area of mining villages. To the east and west, the land forms an isthmus of light forest between areas of the Trackless Sea. To the north, the lands of the Viking-like Northmen start, flat and rather barren of life, serving only as a buffer between themselves and the Ffolk who populate most of central and south Alaron. A small patrol appears on the northern horizon, apparently just some sentries and outriders doing a border check on the region.
This is the northern fringe of the forests that cover the mountains of the earldom of Fairheight. Most of the area is blanketed in pools of shadow, which serve only to reduce visibility to close to zero. To the north and east, the forest dies out, and the land becomes the arid steppe lands of Gnarhelm, one of the kingdoms of the north. To the west, a road winds its way through some hills to the west, heading towards the main section of Fairheight. To the south, this dark forest continues. From that direction comes eerie growls and sounds of other creatures, it is clear that one is not alone in these woods.
The dark forest seems to close in upon this area, the densely packed trees not only cutting off all light but making movement difficult through the sparse gaps in the forestry. Only to the west does there seem to be any range of light or room to move, as a clearing of some sort seems to be the indication from what can be sensed in that direction. To all other directions, the dark and spooky forest continues, growls and muttering echoing from the inky darkness. In addition, a large footprint seems to be firmly depressed in the ground, from a creature of enough size that it's rather apparent these woods are dangerous.
This appears to be the eastern edge of the Fairheight Earldom, sitting just astride the border of Gnarhelm to the north and falling away to the Trackless Sea to the east. Like most of the rest of Fairheight, this is more dark forest running along a low ridge line, lit only by light seeping through the dense line of trees or coming through from clear areas around. Narrow trails appear to have been carved out of the woods to the south and west, by what or whom it cannot be told, but it's something clearly strong enough to move aside a great deal of plant life with little trouble. A growl echoes from somewhere, causing all present to peer around, hoping something hostile isn't about to jump out and eat them.
This is darkening forest running along the eastern coast of the island of Alaron, the fringe of the regions of Fairheight. This forest is very dark and threatening, almost as if by sinister nature it wanted to gobble up travelers and never let them go. Humanoid footprints in the clay-like soil encourage this impression, giving one the idea that very large and tough bandits are about. To the west, south, and north, this forest continues, the darkness only barely pierced by the light from the skies above. To the east is a long drop into the Trackless Sea for those unwary enough to travel that way.
This is a very dark region of the forests of Fairheight, running along a low ridge that borders the southern side of a sheer cliff. In the dim light from druidic runes and scant daylight, the trees themselves appear to be packed in dense clumps, choking off many of the routes one could take to escape this place of darkness and fear. Throaty growls emanate through the underbrush, and the shuffling of something almost human comes from nearby too, indicating that one is never alone here.
This is a corner of the dark forests just within sight of the mountainous road through Fairheight. From ambush points here, both the keep of Fairheight's earl and the mining town which he oversees as part of his duties are visible. The road itself is both west and north of here, although it is obvious that it makes a couple of turns in between, to be headed the way it does. The land here is rather rocky, making footing even more treacherous in the dark forest as it approaches a tall hill to the southeast. Also visible are large boot prints in the soil, further heightening one's sense of unease, as the bandits who prey upon the region must be near if the boot prints are any sign.
This appears to be the brightest part of the dark forests of Fairheight. For one thing, the sky is clearly visible through breaks in the treeline, as a path of some sort runs from the mining cantrevs to the west, east and up the large hill towards a local lake, which even now glows in the sunlight. The path itself is rather primitive, being little more than an area of forest clear of brush, but it's a clear demarcation from the rest of the forest. To the north and south, the forest itself darkens, and sinister noises come from each of those directions, of cries of dismay and growls of triumph.
This appears to be a dark forest on the northeastern side of a bowl-shaped depression, nested between a hilly series of ridges to the west and south, and downhill of a rise to the northeast. Footing is rather treacherous on the very uneven ground, and the bloodstains on the rocks indicate that more than one unwary traveler has met his or her death here, although from the environment or from the obvious signs of bandits in the region it is unknown. The forest runs to the north and east, surrounding the hill to the northeast, while a well-lit road runs along the ridge line previously pointed out.
This is a very dark and narrow gorge, nested in between a tall hill to the north and a series of ridges to the south. Most of this area is covered by rather large trees, which only serve to impede travel, block out the light from above, and hide the brigands and such that use this area as their lairs. The hill to the north is rather sheer, and probably not climbable in its present condition. To the east and west, dark forests cover the land, with narrow hunting trails leading between clumps of trees, and heavy footprints etched into the ground along them. A rather rocky, but safer road lies southward, just beyond the treeline.
Wolf cries and grunts from various humanoids reverberate through this part of the forests of Fairheight. Only to the east does this dark forest not run along out of sight, since the land drops off into the Trackless Sea in that direction. However, to every other direction, as with here, dark forest covers the land, not only making travel difficult but hiding the bandits that infest this region and cause many problems for travelers. In the faint light that seeps down through the cover of the trees, various humanoid footprints, mostly larger than those of humans, can be seen etched into the damp soil, and the sounds from the nearby underbrush hint that one is not alone here.
This is a dark, tree-lined cliff staring out eastward over the seemingly endless waters of the Trackless Sea. This cliff itself is covered in numerous trees, mostly bunched together as to constrict movement and darken the whole of the area. The forest itself continues north and south, along a rather unsafe path wandering close to the lip of the cliff, threatening at any moment to drop those who walk it into the sea. To the west, the backside of a sheer hill impedes movement in that direction, with no obvious way to climb it at all.
The forests of Fairheight are a bit more sparse than the spooky and dark and dense woods to the north and west here. Here, the land runs towards a steep cliff to the east and south that descends several hundred feet into the roaring surf of the Trackless Sea. Staring out across the waters to the south, the city of Calidyrr, home of the High Queen and her family, is in sight through all of the haze, while to the east the waters extend clear to the horizon and past it. To the west and north, the forest grows thicker and darker, and well-trodden paths indicate an intelligent presence in this region.
The dark forests of Fairheight surround and envelop this region of the island of Alaron, its dense groupings of trees darkening this area and making travel quite difficult. In addition to the lack of space in which to move, the ground itself is rather rocky, and the absence of much light makes it hard to see one's way for more than a few steps at a time. Through a break in the trees to the west, a road is visible winding along a ridge line, an area where it is generally easier to make one's way. To every other direction, paths have been pretty much carved through the trees, mostly by sheer numbers of humanoids pressing their way through one after another. Who those humanoids might be, and their purpose in such a place is quite unknown.
This appears to be but a corner of the great forests of Fairheight, mostly a dark woodland area covering much of northern Alaron. To the north, the forest continues, with but a narrow trail leading between two dense copses of trees into the large part of the woods. To the west lies a road, and beyond it more forest. Even now, few travelers occupy that road, seemingly in a hurry to move on to what must be safer lands. To the south lies the entrance to the capital city of Calidyrr, and the King's Road beyond it, while the land drops off into the ocean to the east. A northman's ship appears on the horizon there, heading to the northwest and towards where he must call home.
This appears to be the southwest corner of Fairheight, just a small spot of light forest sitting downhill from the main road running through this mining region of the island. To the west and south, large bodies of water dominate the landscape, a sea of azure sparkling from here until it disappears into haze over the horizon. To the north and west, the land rises sharply towards a path, which even now looks rather unsafe by the shadowy figures which dart between the trees on the far side, keeping a close eye on the road.
Dark forest covers this land here, a small vale running along the western coast of the island of Alaron and the earldom of Fairheight. The forest itself is rather dense, serving to make travel difficult between the obstacles and the lack of a path. To the west and south, steep cliffs drop off into the ocean, which leads from here to the horizon and beyond. To the north, a narrow trail has been carved out of the underbrush, originally enough by some large tree having been uprooted by some massive force, while the main road through this mountainous region is to the east. From the occasional break in the treeline above, a thin plume of gray smoke clouds the sky.
This appears to be a dark stretch of woodlands, lying just west of the main road through Fairheight and just east of the Straits of Alaron to the west. For the most part, this forest looks untouched by civilized hand, given the lack of paths and the absence of cleared underbrush. In fact, only the occasional print of some sort in the ground indicates that someone has been here before. In the rather dim light that the treetops allow through, it can be seen that this forest region continues to the north and south.
A narrow trail connects this area to the backside of a large manor house just to the east beyond the edges of the forest. Other than that, this is nothing but dark forest, with little sign of habitation by anything beyond whatever sort of creature made the large boot prints in the ground. To the west, the land drops off sharply, before ending in a massive cliff tumbling hundreds of feet to the roaring surf below. To the north and south, a narrow trail has been beaten out of the brush of the forest to enable access to the rest of the woodlands. The howl of a wolf splits the silence of this forest.
Dark forest continues to cover a wide strip of land running north to south here along the western coast of the earldom of Fairheight. The trees are very tightly packed together, cutting visibility to a minimum and making travel rather dangerous in and of itself. To the west, the land drops close to one thousand feet into the raging ocean below, the waters of the Straits of Alaron crashing into the rockface. To the east, the trees break, and a trail winds its way through the mountains, before forest continues on the far side. A grunt comes from a nearby shrub, and it's obvious one is not alone in these woods.
This appears to be the northern fringe of the lands of Fairheight. This is mostly dark forest, which starts here and continues to the south, with rocky and dangerous grounds flattened here and there by the steps of some large humanoid figure. To the east lies a mountainous trail leading through the heart of the earldom, lying under the open, but smoke-lined sky. Westward lies the eternal ocean, while to the north lies open, flat plains land, home of one of the many Northmen kingdoms of the islands.
This appears to be a grassy plateau, surrounded on three sides by a rather sheer rockface that plunges thousands of feet to the woodlands below. West of here, a rocky trail leads a treacherous but passable route into Fairheight itself. This plateau holds the one major landmark of the region, the great Moonwell of Fairheight. It's a sparkling pond of milky, glowing water blessed by the benign powers of the Earthmother, and as such holds great spiritual value to the druids of the islands. A snowy white hawk flies overhead, almost as if keeping an eye on the place.
This is gently sloping grassland, heading downwards towards the north and to the open sea in the extreme distance beyond that. Given the dark forests and rising hills to the south, this is probably the southern end of the lands of the warlike Northmen upon the island of Alaron. Most of the land is rather bland and boring to look at, simply being open plains extending as far as the eye can see. This land also continues to the east, while to the west the Straits of Alaron impede foot travel in that direction.
These are the southern grasslands of the Northmen, the edge of the kingdom of Olafstaad. This area appears sparsely populated at best, which is really not much of a surprise given that the Northmen look to the sea for everything. To the north and west, this continues, the land sloping downhill slightly in each direction. To the south, the land rises sharply, into hills and mountains covered by dark and eerie forests from which grunts and howls emerge. In the distance to the north, a small cavalry patrol appears, riding this way but then turning back inland towards whatever settlements might exist in that direction.
Broad grasslands spread out and about from this location, leading to the horizon and beyond in every direction. Other than that, there is little to say about the Northman kingdom of Olafstaad. The occasional small village dots the land, but most of the warlike people of this kingdom probably live near the sea and disregard this part of their territory. Only the tracks of the occasional outriding patrol indicates that this area is ever visited. A couple of birds circle lazily overhead, the only signs of life in this particular spot.
This appears to be the meeting points of the Northmen kingdoms of Olafstaad and Gnarhelm with the Ffolk lands of Fairheight. This is mostly level terrain, grass covered plains leading away to the north, east, and west, although the land for the most part to the east appears a bit more fertile and used by its inhabitants. To the south, dark forests and rising mountains cover the land, with plumes of inky black smoke indicating some sort of industrialized village within. A small patrol of riders appears on the horizon, doing little more than scanning for anything seriously out of the ordinary.
This appears to be grassy plains land, sloping slightly downward towards the north and west as it heads deeper into Olafstaad. A small village appears in the distance, one of few signs that the Northmen even inhabit this land. Other than that, very little is noticeable about the land. If this land were used at all, it would be for grazing purposes only, as the lands of Olafstaad seem to lack the fertility for farming as do the plains to the east, the lands of the kingdom of Gnarhelm. This bland territory extends as far as the eye can hear, and the silence is only broken by the occasional howl of the wind.
This appears to be more grasslands like most of the rest of the territory of the Northmen here on the northern end of the island of Alaron. A small village dots the landscape here and there, and some herds graze on the plains, but other than that there is little sign of habitation or interest of the land by the people who control it. The area is strangely silent, and only the occasional lowing of some livestock or the howl of the wind breaks the tedious nothingness.
This appears to be a small hill in the center of the northern region of the island of Alaron. From here, one has an excellent view of both the steppes of Olafstaad, which are strangely deserted for the most part, and the fertile grasslands of Gnarhelm, whose inhabitants indulge in the occasional homestead to make something of their land. Small cavalry patrols appear on both horizons, most likely sentries and outriders insuring that no foreign force invades their lands, even though the Northmen and the Ffolk have been at peace for twenty-five years. The howl of the wind seems to drown out any other noise that might be echoing throughout the region.
This is a small rise overlooking the central portion of the lands of the Northmen, erstwhile allies of the Ffolk. This is mostly plains land, used for grazing by the citizens of Olafstaad who occupy the western end of this section, and for farming by the men and women of Gnarhelm, whose kingdom begins just the eastern side of this ridge. To the north and south, the border continues marked very little if at all, only by the occasional sentry post. A couple of villages dot the plains, and even some individual settlements given wide berth by others, but other than that this is rather quiet and boring.
This is the semi-fertile steppe lands that comprise the majority of the kingdom and lands of Olafstaad, one of the great kingdoms of the North. This land runs generally south and west, comprising the western half of this peninsula on the northern end of Alaron. To the east lies the kingdom of Gnarhelm, which is mostly indistinguishable from this land except that its peasants are more apt to use their land for farming than for grazing. A small patrol appears in the distance on the northwest horizon, leaving a small village in that portion of the land to make a cursory check of the inland area to make sure that all is well with the citizens and that nothing is truly amiss.
Grassy plains land spreads out in all directions from here, making up the lands of the kingdoms of Olafstaad and Gnarhelm. This plains land leads as far as the eye can see, only broken up by the occasional series of ridges rising slightly above the flatlands or by scattered villages that are the only sign of Northman civilization. Most of this land shows signs, however, of occasional usage, mostly as grazing posts for the herds of the people of this region. In the distance are a couple of cavalry riders, probably sentries and guard types of the kingdom, whose only job is to make sure little is out of order.
Grassy plains land extends as far as the eye can see, with a slight downward slope to it as it trails off towards a rather large town in the distance to the west. Other than that town, most of the plain is rather empty, with only the sparse house, village, or herd of livestock breaking up the monotonous terrain. As such, this region comes across as being almost unpopulated and uncivilized, but that may only be because its people believe in making their living off of the sea, and they trust their southern neighbors who do not share that same view. In the distance on the eastern horizon lies a series of low hills, and the signs of some farmsteads, but who they belong to is unknown.
This appears to be grazing land for the herds of Olafstaad, used only by those Northmen who do not use the sea to earn their living. The region itself shows few signs of human life, just the occasional peasant with his herd, or a small patrol serving as militia and scouts overlooking the lands. To the west, in the distance lies a large city, probably the population hub of Olafstaad, whereas to the east lies Gnarhelm, another of the kingdoms of the North, whose peasants farm rather than tend livestock. The terrain is strangely quiet, with only the sounds of the wind to break the silence.
Sloping grasslands cover the majority of northern Alaron, like this region of grazing lands here. These grasslands extend as far as the eye can see in all directions save north, where the sparkling, azure waters of the Trackless Sea beckon the eyes and dreams of all the peasants of the kingdoms in this region of the Moonshae Islands. To the east, south, and west the plains spread, however, sparsely populated and only lightly patrolled by the Northmen who hold control over the region. Also of note to the west is a rather large village sitting on the horizon, visible only now by the small trails of smoke rising into the clear skies above.
This appears to be a small village near the northern coast of Olafstaad. All about spread massive steppe lands, mostly suitable for grazing for those who do not use the sea for their livelihoods, which disqualifies most of the Northmen. Just a bit downhill to the north lies the coastline of the Trackless Sea itself, the blue waters of the ocean sparkling under the clear skies, while to the west lies the capital of Olafstaad. A distance to the east, fertile fields, ably tilled by other Northmen peasants makes the western fringe of Gnarhelm. The lands are quiet, save the endless moaning of the wind blowing off the sea.
This appears to be a small depression in the earth, but overall part of the vast plains lands that make up northern Alaron and the kingdoms of Olafstaad and Gnarhelm. The ground here is a bit scorched and blackened as if a fire here was a rather recent occurrence. To the west and south lie rather barren grasslands, not suitable for farming but instead used by peasants for grazing moderately sized herds. To the east, the citizens of Gnarhelm use the land to tend small fields of crops. In the distance to the north, and down a sloping hill lies the Trackless Sea, its waters glittering under the clear skies.
This appears to be the northern edge of the island of Alaron. Even now, a small slope heads downwards into the waves and waters of the Trackless Sea, which extend a long distance to the north until it is swallowed up by haze near the horizon. To the west and south lie the arid steppes of Olafstaad, used for small villages and grazing pastures if at all by the mariners of the North. To the east lies the kingdom of Gnarhelm, whose lands are far more fertile and suitable to farming. On the eastern horizon appears a small patrol, wearing the colors of its kingdom and simply checking to make sure nothing is amiss in this region.
This is the northern coastline of Alaron, an area where the semi-arid plains of Olafstaad meet the Trackless Sea. The plains land itself spreads out to the east, south, and to a lesser extent the west. Mostly unused, except for space for villages and sentry outposts in itself, the land can almost be said to be abandoned in some spots. To the north and somewhat to the west, the azure waters of the Trackless Sea sparkle under the clear skies. A kiss of salty wind blows in off the ocean, cooling the area considerably.
This appears to be the northwest corner of Olafstaad, the plains land stopping here as the Trackless Sea begins here and continues as far as the eye can see. The plains themselves run east and south of here, towards a couple of small villages and one major city sitting a distance to the south. Most of the land is unoccupied for the most part, although an occasional patrol wanders through it on routine duty. The Trackless Sea itself is a rather normal ocean, simply surrounding the island and running towards the horizon before disappearing into the haze. The plains themselves are silent, save the eternal moaning of the wind passing through.
This is a stretch of grasslands lying along the plains lands near the northern coast of Alaron. Most of the landscape is rather empty, the Northmen tending to leave inlands alone in their pursuit of mastery of the sea. To the north and west, the land descends into a sandy beach, bordering the Trackless Sea there. To the east and south, a couple of small villages occupy the land, and in other spots herds of cattle can be seen tended by the peasantry of the region. Most of this land appears to be rather unthreatening, but one who knew what the denizens of it were like would not hold that opinion. In the distance appears a small patrol, probably simple outriders or militia.
This is grassy plains land lying at the edge of the coastal flats of northern Olafstaad. The grasslands spread all about, lightly populated and used for grazing if at all by the people of this land. Only a few small villages and huts dot the region, although a large city appears on the distant coastline to the southwest. In the distance, a mounted patrol appears, heading north to south along some ridge line or canyon edge cutting a dark line across the lands to the east. A salty breeze blows in from the north, keeping the air clean and carrying the cries of the birds from the sea.
The land is flat and grassy here, lying just east of a rather large town sprawled on the western coastline of Alaron. From the looks of the city, it appears to be the capital of the kingdom in which one now stands. The rest of the landscape is rather dull, with only a small series of huts or the occasional herd of cattle breaking the monotony of flat and rather barren grasslands. The winds whistle in from the north, bringing with them the clean, salty scent of the ocean, and the cries of whatever birds might be circling there.
This appears to be one of the outer sections of the capital of Olafstaad. Most of the buildings here are simply wooden houses, sturdy enough to hold up to the elements, but not tended with the loving care or overly well kept like houses seen in other cities. In the distance to the west appears the Trackless Sea and the Straits of Alaron, as well as the docks and wharves of this city. To the east, north, and south are mostly grasslands, rather plain and barely used by the people. A couple of burly Northmen wander by, partially drunk at least, clapping each other on the back and talking rather loudly.
This is a wooden dock and a dirt road running by it on the western coast of Alaron, in the capital city of the Viking realm of Olafstaad. The city that sprawls from here towards the south and east is rather plain and medieval, and neither overly well built nor exceptionally kept. A number of spectacular and extremely seaworthy boats line the docks, manned by very competent looking sailors who make the sea their life and love. To the north, sandy beaches run up the coast until it too intersects the ocean, and grasslands run inland from these beaches, mostly uncivilized and left to any landlubber who feels like using them that is a citizen of this realm. A couple of burly guards wander by without sparing the city much of a glance, instead looking to the sea as if all danger were coming from there.
This is rocky coastline skirting the western edge of Olafstaad as it stares out into the semi-open Trackless Sea to the west. In the haze in that direction rises another land mass, although whether it is part of Alaron or not cannot be told at this distance. The coastline itself takes an eastward turn just to the north, at the northwest cape of Alaron. To the east lies steppe lands, rather barren from overgrazing by the cattle of the Northman peasantry and lying almost abandoned except for the occasional wooden house. To the south lies a broad village and port situated in a rather strategic location based on the reefs now visible at the low tide.
The coastline of Alaron corners here, turning south and east as it overlooks the edge of the Trackless Sea. The ocean entirely surrounds the island on the north and west sides, flowing to the horizon until it disappears in haze, and sparkling under the clear skies of the region. The land itself is flat and somewhat grassy, although it is barren enough to prevent a lot of use from it. Those few peasants who are hardy or stubborn enough to work the land tend to use it for residences and grazing only. A small naval patrol sails by to the north, watching the seas for pirates or the Claws of the Deep.
The plains land here continues to slope downwards to sandy beaches and a rocky shoreline to the north, before it vanishes beneath the azure waters of the sea to the north. In all other directions, the land is mostly flat and shows some signs of use by the Northmen, although not more than for housing given the nature of the residents of the land. A couple of herds of cattle graze on the open land, and here and there sentry patrols are visible, but it is clear that neither the peasantry nor the ruling class of Olafstaad consider any threat that might arise to come from inland. A salty breeze blows through the region from the north, rising off the whitecaps of the Trackless Sea and cleansing the air.
Flat grassy plains land dominates the northern region of Alaron, like it does here in the outer reaches of the land of Olafstaad. To the north and west, the land slopes downhill towards rocky beaches and the crystalline ocean. To the east, the land runs as far as the eye can see, largely unused and uninhabited by the peasantry of the Northmen as it runs towards a series of low ridges in the distance. To the south a large but rather rustic city settles on the land, having the look of both capital and seaport (not in that order) for the warlike Northmen. A small patrol wanders near the city, making sure no ruffians or any people of that sort are around, tending to the security of the Northmen.
This is the southern portion of the docks and piers that make up the western end of the capital of Olafstaad. A large number of burly men move about, both loading and unloading ships as well as partaking of the various taverns and shops that line the dirt avenue running north to south along the coastline of this island. The Trackless Sea itself borders the town on the south and west sides, and in the latter direction the waters disappear in the haze that appears on the horizon. To the east and north, this city continues, while beyond the city to the southeast appears dry grasslands, mostly unused by the peasantry.
This is the southeastern portion of a rather large Northman city, unique in that it actually appears to have sturdy and semi-permanent structures in it. For the most part, this area of the city is dominated by a palace-like building, the place where the Northman king rules over his chaotic subjects as much as is possible. To the east and south lie broad plains land, mostly nondescript and only lightly used by the people. To the north and west lie the rest of this city, and beyond that the Trackless Sea, glittering underneath the clear skies overhead. A clean breeze blows in from the west, carrying with it the sounds of both the ocean and of work being done at the nearby piers.
This is dry grasslands just east of a rather large Northman settlement, for the most part abandoned and unsettled. Dust clouds rise into the air with every step, indicating the extreme overworking of the land by its populace. To the north, east, and south, this terrain continues, dry and dusty and also rather unused by the peasantry. In the distance to the east, a small mounted sentry patrol rides along a series of ridges, although what threat might come from that direction is quite unknown. A stiff breeze passes through, doing little besides stirring the air.
A stiff breeze passes over the flat plains land here, mostly dry steppe land used for little more than grazing where a herd can find a good spot. The plains continue in all directions, sloping slightly downward towards the west where a sandy beach lies at the foot of the Trackless Sea and the Straits of Alaron. To the north of that lies a mid-sized town, probably the largest settlement in the land of Olafstaad. Most of the plains here are rather unused, which would seem unusual except for the stereotype of the Northmen who own it.
This appears to be flat steppe lands sitting smack in the middle of nowhere, also known as the Northmen kingdom of Olafstaad. The land extends as far as the eye can see, mostly unchanging and rather dull in its decoration. A couple of small villages lie here and there, and a herd of cattle grazes every so often, but other than that nothing seems to be moving on the landscape. To the far south, a patrol seems to be moving across the land, a border patrol or militia or some other such security measure.
Broad steppe lands dominate the landscape, extending from horizon to horizon in all directions here in the central portion of the land of Olafstaad. To the east, a low series of hills seem to serve as some sort of border, separating this land from another Northman kingdom. Most of this land is used for grazing if at all. In the distance to the west, a mounted patrol moves along some demarcated path, observing the goings on of the people here.
Flat grasslands occupy the whole of the northern section of the island of Alaron here, making up the Northman kingdom of Olafstaad. Here and there, small towns and villages dot the plains, and the herds of some of those peasants roam the steppes of this land. To the south, the land slopes upward slightly, as it approaches a series of hills and forests that darken the land beneath them. To the east is a low line of hills, serving as some form of natural border. A few mounted Viking-like warriors ride along the ridge, observing the land and making sure all is in order. The cries of cattle reverberate across the region.
This appears to be a slightly sheltered depression in the earth, lying on the northwest side of a series of hills that mark the borders of the Northmen lands of Olafstaad and Gnarhelm with the Ffolk realm of Fairheight. Most of the land is flat and somewhat grassy, although it shows signs of overuse by ranchers and cattle herders that work this area. A small village appears in the distance, little more than a few houses clustered along the edge of a small rise to the west. To the north, signs of population are almost nonexistent, the plains appearing rather empty. Only a small force of militia riding through the land shows any sign that it is possessed by someone.
Flat grasslands mark the southern section of the Northman realms here, mostly idle and inactive as the peasantry sees little purpose to gathering food from the flatlands. To the west, the land slopes downhill towards a rocky beach and beyond to the sparkling waters of the Trackless Sea, where even now a handful of longships are visible. To the east and north, the plainsland continues into the distance, with only a village here and there breaking the monotony. To the south lies the realm of Fairheight, an earldom under the flag of Calidyrr.
A gentle breeze blows through this area of plains land, very much dry and barren from what appears to be extreme overuse by the herders of Olafstaad. For the most part, this seems to be the general terrain type for the near distance in all directions save west. In that direction, the land slopes downhill to the nearby sea, which then extends well into the distance before disappearing into the haze. To the south, a forested region is visible in the distance, and the land rises before it into a series of mountains. Most of this land seems rather unoccupied, and the general lack of noise from peasants or their work seems most disturbing.
A brisk wind blows off of the choppy waters of the Straits of Alaron to the west, causing great clouds of dust to rise from the arid steppe land that makes up most of the northern end of this island. This plains region extends well to the east before rising into a series of low hills. To the north and south, the coastline runs in a general straight path, extending south towards Fairheight and north towards a good sized Northman town. Other than that town, there seems to be little sign of habitation in this region, and only the sounds of the ocean break the eerie silence.
The beach gets a bit rocky here as it progresses from north to south, working its way towards the forested hills looming on the southern horizon. To the west lies the Straits of Alaron, the normally placid body of water that divides this island from a number of others. Even now, a peninsula of land is visible through the haze in the distance westward. To the north and south, the sandy beach continues, a bit treacherous to travel but posing no significant danger. To the east lies a plains land region, sparsely populated and used mostly by the peasants of the area to graze small herds of sheep and cattle. A couple of small patrols are also visible making their way across southwestern Olafstaad, ensuring the security of the people more than patrolling for actual danger.
This appears to be a corner of coastline, the shores turning from south to east as they approach the realm of Calidyrr and the earldom of Fairheight to the south. The land itself also slopes gradually but visibly upwards in that direction, rising into steep, forested mountains in that direction. To the north, a generally rocky shoreline marks the edge of Olafstaad as it spills into the aqua waters of the Straits of Alaron. On those waters now sail a few sturdy longships, the favored vessel of the Northmen. To the east, and inland, lies a region of semi-fertile grassland, mostly used for grazing purposes or for the occasional settlement, but not overly employed by the hardy peasants.
Broad grasslands make up most of this region of Alaron, extending well into the distance northward and eastward. To the west, the land slopes downwards towards the ocean, which even now glitters underneath mostly clear skies. To the south lie a range of forested hills, looking more inhabited than this region of landscape. Most of the plains are rather unused, with only the occasional village or settlement to interrupt the monotony of open plains. A light breeze blows over the steppes, but it does little to otherwise change the environment.
A warm breeze blows off the Straits of Alaron and the rest of the ocean to the west, moving the air over the sandy beaches of the west coast and towards the plains land of Olafstaad to the east. The beach itself is rather moist from the recent high tide, and runs southward along a general straight line, rather rocky but safe enough to travel. To the east, the plains land is rather boring to stare at, mostly empty with the occasional exception for a village or a herd of cattle led by some peasant. To the north appears to be some mid-sized city, complete with a complicated wharf system that indicates an active seaport.
This appears to be the eastern side of some small hills that run south through the central portion of the Northman kingdoms. To the north lies the dark and gloomy Trackless Sea, a bit choppy under brisk winds and slightly foul weather. To the east lies fertile grasslands, though they lie dormant given the people who populate the area. South and west of here lie more fertile lands, but they too lie dormant, and seem almost barren.
This appears to be a series of low but fertile hills comprising the western border of the land of Gnarhelm as it intersects Olafstaad. To the east and south, this area continues, mostly flatlands that appear very fertile and even see some use as fields tilled by hardworking peasants. To the west lies another series of steppe lands, not nearly as fertile, and like this region only seeing sparse use, but for grazing. To the north lies a rocky cliff region, which stares out over the ocean. A brisk wind whips through the region, chilling any who dare stay out in the open to face it.
This appears to be a broad plains land area, seemingly fertile from the look of the topsoil and the occasional farmstead that dots the plains to the south and east. Most of the land, however, seems to be rather abandoned, the hardy men and women of the north preferring to look to the sea for their living and livelihood instead of some simple pile of dirt. To the west, a low series of ridges divides this kingdom from the realm of Olafstaad, which appears to be a less fertile land more suited to grazing than anything else. In the distance to the north, the land drops as it approaches some large body of water. A small patrol of men and horses crosses the land to the south, keeping an eye on things and generally lending a hand to those peasants that might require it.
This appears to be a line of grassy ridges cutting across the lands of the North from north to south. Most of the region within view is flat and grassy, of varying degrees of fertility and used only sparingly by the Northmen who call these kingdoms home. Other than the occasional home or village, there is little sign of habitation across the empty steppes, although a small patrol of some militia does keep an eye on things. A warm breeze blows through, stirring the air but producing little relief from the elements otherwise. The cries of some bird of prey split the air.
This appears to be the southwest side of a series of low hills dividing two distinct regions of plains land making up the kingdoms of the North lying upon this island. The hills themselves appear rather fertile, as if they were part of the grassy regions to the east that appear to receive light use as fields where they are used at all. The plains to the west, and also to the south are rather barren, and also generally unused, although a couple of small villages are visible here and there. Other than that, the terrain is rather plain and uninteresting from horizon to horizon, just the occasional peasant sweating out a living on the land instead of at sea like most of this culture performs.
A couple of narrow ridges poke their way through the range of low hills that marks a general north/south path here, dividing the two kingdoms of the North that reside on this land. To the east and north lie Gnarhelm, while the south and west are where Olafstaad lie. The only difference between the two appears to be in how the land is used, and how fertile it is, with more tillable land east and grazing pastures to the west. Most of the steppe lands appear to be left unused, most of the Northmen preferring to live by the sea and harness it to earn a living. A small patrol snakes its way across the land, although there appears to be little threat to defend against. The wind falls silent, leaving one feeling eerily alone on the hills.
Fertile grasslands spread in all directions from here, lightly farmed by the occasional peasant whose dwelling is visible upon the ground. The soil seems to be rather rich in nutrients necessary to sustain a rather healthy farm, but the hardy folk who live here seem more inclined to leave it alone. A line of ridges appears to the west, running generally parallel to the coastline just visible to the east of here, down a long run and past a mid-sized village. A slight wind disturbs the area, but quickly passes, leaving the region to bake under the clear skies that seem to dominate this land.
This appears to be rather fertile area lying just uphill of a shoreline that is a short distance north and runs westward from there. Despite the richness of the soil, however, few peasants appear to be around to use it, as most of the Northmen who live in the region prefer to make their livings off the sea as their ancestors have done since time untold. As such, this explains the rather sparse population on this plains land, and the even sparser signs of the land being used. To the southeast lies a small village, probably the largest community in Gnarhelm. The ocean is visible to the north and east in the near distance, a bit choppy given the rough winds buffeting the region these days.
This appears to be a fertile stretch of plains land lying just south and west of a region of cliffs, which themselves border a rather turbulent Trackless Sea. Despite the richness of the topsoil, there appears to be few peasants working this area, using the land to bring forth their livelihoods. Instead, most of this rather fertile region lies idle, with few signs of life other than the occasional village or farm in the distance. Instead, the seas to the north appear to be filled with boats of all sorts, the Northmen preferring to use the ocean to earn their living rather than the land. Brisk winds buffet this region of land, driving all but the most hardy of travelers to cover, and also probably responsible for the state of the ocean.
This seems to be a cliff region overlooking the azure waters of the Trackless Sea which even now sparkle under the clear skies. This is a rather windy place to stand, as the breezes coming off of the waters are rather strong. To the west and south, a large region of grasslands marks the main part of the kingdom of Gnarhelm, extending well into the distance and over the horizon, sparsely populated if at all from the small number of dwellings on the plains. To the southeast in the distance appears to be a small flotilla of boats, each bearing the markings of some Northman crest, sailing towards the haze on the eastern horizon. Other than that, one has the distinct feeling of being alone here.
This appears to be a fertile plains land area rapidly sloping downhill towards the east, where it meets the open waters of the Trackless Sea. In fact, most of this region appears rather fertile, although to the north, a series of cliffs borders more of the same body of water that surrounds this region of the world. Despite its seeming wealth of resources, this area is not heavily populated by the Northmen who claim it. Instead, it appears this land is almost lifeless given the rare signs of civilization. Only the small patrol snaking its way through the distance southwards gives any indication that this land is even cared about by its owners.
This appears to be a rather rocky beach stretching out a bit into the ocean before disappearing beneath the waves. The land itself seems rather unsuitable for much of anything besides a watch point of the ocean. To the west and south lie grasslands that cover northern Alaron from horizon to horizon, broken only occasionally by a small village or farm occupying some small portion of the land. A fresh breeze blows in off the waves, bringing the sounds and smells of the open sea, as the incoming tide rises, starting to cover more of the beach.
This is a grassy region of plains land lying just southwest and a slight bit upwards of the Trackless Sea in sight to both the north and the east. Most of this land is rather unoccupied, although a village does lie a short distance away, visible by the trails of smoke rising above it. The grasslands themselves cover much of the kingdom of Gnarhelm, sloping upwards to the south and west. In the distance to the south appears to be a fair sized port city lying in a sheltered cove of the kingdom. From there, a small number of mounted riders issue, heading westward in some sort of patrol or search mission.
This appears to be a rocky beach just stretching out into the Trackless Sea that surrounds this region on its eastern and northern sides. Covering the beach appears to be a collection of scraps from a nearby shipwreck, mostly just the broken shell of the longship that must have hit the reefs to the east. Despite that, however, it appears that few sailors of the Northmen avoid this part of the waters, as a couple of their naval vessels are in the waters now. To the west, the land rises slowly but inexorably, into a grassy plain that lies largely unused by the peasantry of the region. The only sign that the land is even owned by someone comes from the smoke from a village rising over the area, and the small mounted patrol making its way around the borders of Gnarhelm.
This is a rough and rocky beach bordering the western side of the Trackless Sea. Looking out over the sparkling waters, several longships of the Northman fleets are visible, although what they are doing over the waters is unknown. To the west, and also somewhat to the north and south lies a broad series of plains that extend across all of the visible portion of this island, sloping uphill to the south mostly. The plains are rather abandoned, given that few of the people of the North are inclined to choose landlubbing over battling the sea for their livelihoods. A short distance to the south appears to be a small port city, and the importance that it seems to exude would indicate it is a major town to the men and women of Gnarhelm.
This appears to be the eastern tip of a grassy region that covers a large part of the kingdom of Gnarhelm. Despite the seeming fertility of this region, there are few signs of habitation on the open land, only the occasional village or farm, and one patrol working its way across the plains. A short distance uphill to the south lies a mid-sized city, a port by its looks and arrangement from this vantage point, and probably the capital as well given its size as compared to other towns visible on the grasslands. Other than that landmark, there is little of interest in this area of Alaron. A brisk wind blows in from the north, cooling this area some and sending small objects tumbling about.
This appears to be sandy coastline running north and south along the eastern coast of Alaron. To the north and west lie a broad flatlands region, grassy and very fertile, but unused by the majority of the land's peasants. Only the occasional sign of life is visible in the distance in either direction, just the odd structure breaking the monotony of the flatlands. To the south, and up a small hill lies a rather large city for this region of the world. It looks to be a port of some sort, given the visible structures and the small fleet of boats in the sheltered cover near it. A brisk wind blows off the seas, chilling any observer to the bone and bringing with it the salty smell of the water.
This appears to be a broad stretch of plains land, grassy and fertile, and spanning much of northern Alaron. This plains land seems to extend in a broad north and south arc from horizon to horizon, between the coastline to the east and a range of low hills and ridges to the west. Most of this plain is rather unoccupied, with only a few of the hardy folk that live in this realm working it and gaining their sustenance from there. To the southeast lies a port town in a sheltered bay, rather important looking from the large number of burly men who mill about the docks there. Further to the east lies the sparkling waters of the Trackless Sea, choppy today as a result of the high winds buffeting this area of land. The cries of seagulls and other birds echo across the skies.
This is a grassy region of land lying just west of a mid-sized town, and just east and south of a small line of ridges that seems to divide the northernmost stretch of Alaron in half. Most of this plains land is empty, with only a small farm or town here or there to indicate the Northmen hold any interest in it. Instead, most of the warlike people are concentrated in coastal towns that dot the waters to the east, many of whom are now out in their majestic longships plying the waters of the Trackless Sea. To the south, in the distance, appears a dark forest, while the areas north of here just seem to be an extension of the grasslands beneath one's feet now. The winds are rather fierce here, driving all but the most hardy of travelers to cover.
This appears to be a region of sloping plains land, dropping towards the north and rising towards the forests on the southern horizon. The land itself is a mix of low hills and grassy plains land here, somewhat fertile although less so than the areas to the north. As a result, there is little activity here, just a couple of isolated huts and peasants dutifully working the lands around them, bringing forth what fare they can from the grounds. To the east lies the waters of the Trackless Sea, a drop of a couple dozen feet from the lands here onto a series of coral reefs. The ocean runs from there to the eastern horizon, where it disappears into the haze.
This is a rather unstable cliff perched precariously over the rushing waters of the Trackless Sea that surrounds this area on its southern and eastern sides. The waters themselves are rather fierce today, driven by a chill eastern wind into the rockface, tearing away great chunks of it with every smashing wave. To the north and west, a broad stretch of plains land encompasses one's whole field of view, fertile and grassy but unoccupied for the most part. Only the rare small village or sentry patrol gives any indication of life in this land. To the south, on the horizon, looms a range of low mountains, dark and forested by all appearances.
This is the southern portion of a broad flatlands region, grassy and fertile and gently sloping downwards towards the north. Most of the open plains seems strangely abandoned, given the wealth of riches in the soil. It appears that only the rare peasant takes to farming these days in this region of the world. To the west and north lie a line of ridges and hills, branching off towards the north and flowing south meeting the dark and forested hills in that direction. To the east, the Trackless Sea starts a short distance from this spot, rather windy and turbulent today from the strong winds that can be felt even this far from the shores.
This appears to be a small and sheltered cove along the coastline of Alaron, nested protectively between a forested region to the south and west, and a wide swath of plains land to the north. Despite the surrounding terrain, the winds coming off the waters to the east are something fierce, threatening to sweep away anything not tied down tightly. In the distance to the north, a patrol of sorts appears on the horizon, mounted and heading this way as if they sensed trouble to their lands.
This is the southern terminus of a low line of hills that extends due north from here until it meets the horizon line in the distance. To the east of those hills lies fertile grasslands, and west of it less fertile steppe lands, both of them similar in that they are mostly abandoned (like this chunk of rock here). In fact, there are few signs of habitation by the Northmen on their lands other than the two patrols snaking their way through the distance and the occasional village or residence visible on the open plains. To the south, the land becomes covered by dark forests, rising sharply into mountains that appear to be more lived in by the dark plumes of smoke coming from within or beyond.
This appears to be a narrow ridge line running along the central portion of Northern Alaron, separating the kingdoms of Olafstaad and Gnarhelm. To both the east and west of the ridge line, which itself runs north towards the horizon and probably beyond, are flat plains land, slightly sloping towards the north. Most of the plains are empty despite their fertility, the hardy men and women of the North simply preferring to earn their living from the waters of the ocean than from simple dirt. Only the occasional residence gives any indication that the Northmen hold claim on this land. Towards the south, a dark forest covers the land, which gradually rises into tall mountains blocking the view of the land beyond them.
This is a broad arc of plains land covering most of the kingdom of Gnarhelm, which itself occupies the eastern end of this part of Alaron. To the north and a bit to the southwest spreads fertile grasslands, somewhat used by the peasants of the kingdom, but mostly lying empty and abandoned. The only sign that most of this land is cared for are the various patrols seen traversing the land on various routes, mostly to maintain the peace. To the west lies a series of low hills that divide this land from Olafstaad, while to the south lies the Ffolk realm of Fairheight, a land of mountains and forests. A salty breeze blows in from the east, cooling the area that has baked under open skies.
This is the eastern side of a line of low hills that runs gradually north and south here in northern Alaron. In every direction but west, the grasslands of Gnarhelm lie before travelers, a region where the travel is easy and the population is relatively low, given the tendency of the men and women of the North to look to the sea for everything. To the west lies a number of small ridges and hills blocking this realm from Olafstaad, another of the nations of the North. A light wind blows in from the northeast, cooling the area some but not otherwise having much of an effect. A distant patrol appears on the horizon but spares this area hardly a glance.
This is the eastern slopes of some small hills and ridges that mark the western border of Olafstaad. To the north, east, and south lie fertile plains, lightly tilled by those peasants who choose not to use the ocean like their brethren. Other than that, there is little sign of life on the open lands, leaving the whole region with a look of abandonment. Over the hills to the west are more flatlands, looking very much the same as those on this side, lightly used and rather empty. The wind falls still here, but the open skies clearly carry the echoes of various birds circling some distance to the east, over a mid-sized settlement.
This corner of the hills and ridges of northern Alaron overlooks most of the northern end of the kingdom of Olafstaad. Like the areas visible to the east and southeast, the land to the north is flat and grassy, sloping downward a bit to the north. Despite the seeming richness of the soil and land, very few of the people seem to use it overly much, leaving the plains looking abandoned as if some calamity had passed. Only the occasional residence, and the dust from some distant patrol give any indication that people live here. To the west lies another Northman realm, also flat and grassy but not as fertile. A light breeze stirs the air, and the cries of some bird echo across the air, but the plains remain empty outside of that.
A broad stretch of grasslands occupies most of the line of view from the northern horizon clear to the southern horizon, a stretch that narrows quite a bit around here as it runs between the coastline and a grouping of low hills. The ocean lies to the east beyond the coastline, sparkling under clear skies and a bit choppy under moderate winds blowing east to west. The line of hills is rather low, marking a border between Northman realms. Despite the seeming fertility of the soil, there are few peasants out and about working it, instead a small flotilla of fishing vessels works its way through the Trackless Sea. Only the small patrol kicking up dust in the distance indicates the presence of sentient beings on the plains.
This is a grassy stretch of plains land, extending a large distance to both the west and south, and running towards the rocky coastline and cliffs to the east and north. Most of the grasslands lie empty, and the monotony of empty steppes are only broken by the rare village or residence. Only staring out past the cliffs onto the blue waters of the Trackless Sea can one see signs of life in this region of the world, with large numbers of Northmen longships plying the waves in a variety of pursuits. A brisk wind blows off the waters to the east, doing much to cool this region baking under the midday skies, but the lands are eerily silent, with nary a sound heard above the wind.
This is a mid-sized town, complete with docks lying in a sheltered bay along the coastline of Alaron. From the looks of the burly men about, this is most likely the capital of Gnarhelm, kingdom of the North. To the east and south lie the choppy waters of the Trackless Sea, oddly stirred up by unseasonable winds that make naval travel difficult for all but this seafaring people. To the west and north are fertile grasslands, but they lie mostly empty given the culture of this race to depend on the sea for everything and anything. A small patrol makes its way along the docks before heading into the town proper.
This is the northeast coast of Alaron, bordering the Trackless Sea which extends to the horizon both northwards and eastwards, vanishing into the haze underneath dark storm clouds in the distance. To the south and west are plains and grasslands, mostly dormant given the nature of this seafaring culture. In fact, the only signs of life in this land are the occasional patrol making its way across open steppes. A line of hills to the west and southwest are the only feature that breaks up the monotony of the terrain, while little can be heard above the howl of the north wind.
This is the southwestern tip of craggy Oman's Island. To the west lie the open waters of the Trackless Sea, while to the south is a calm strait of water dividing this island from another visible through the haze to the south. East and north of here the terrain rises towards the center of the island towards a towering peak and a tall plateau. The island lies abandoned now, although from what it is not sure. The wind blows in off the ocean to the west, a calm and comforting breeze that soothes the soul.
This is the western coast of Oman's Island, this specifically being a rocky shore staring west out over the Trackless Sea. Most of this island, at least what one could see, is hilly and rather devoid of life. To the east rises a tall plateau and a towering mountain with a snowcap at its rim. Other than that there is little to say for this chunk of rock. There are few signs of life on the island itself. A breeze blows in from the west, and the cries of a couple of circling seagulls reverberate through the air.
A small inlet in the rocky coastline of Oman allows some water to flow up and into a small pool on the beaches here, but otherwise this region of the coastline is remarkably similar to those north and south. A breeze blows off the ocean to the west, bringing with it the salty scent of the sea, and cooling this area slightly. To the east, the land starts rising towards a towering mountain in the center of the island, notable for the snowcap at its top, but other than that there is little to distinguish this area from the rest of the island. Nor are there any signs of habitation for that matter.
This is the northwestern corner of Oman, staring out into the open seas to both the north and the west. Those sparkling blue waters cover all, from horizon to horizon until it disappears into the haze common to this region of the world. To the east and south rise highlands towards the center of the island, a towering plateau and a massive mountain, notable for its cap of snow year round. There are few signs of habitation on this island, mostly broken huts and such from a long ago culture when the Northmen used to use this island as one of their bases of attack on the Ffolk. Now there is little left to show they were ever here.
This seems to be the northern side of Oman, a rocky coastline winding east and west between the ocean to the north and cliffs to the south. There are a couple of gaps in the rocks permitting passage to the highlands to the south of here. A calm breeze blows off the waters to the north, bringing some relief to the parched areas of this coastline but serving no further purpose. The island on the whole is abandoned, but there are signs of new inhabitants of the region, including the gruff shouts of something coming from somewhere nearby.
This is a sheltered part of the beach on the northern face of Oman, staring out towards the endless reaches of the Trackless Sea to the north. The beach itself is rather rocky and nondescript, and runs east and west along the edge of the ocean. To the south, the land starts rising towards a tall plateau and a towering peak covered year round with snow. The only things of note on this beach are the shattered hulls of a couple of longships that look positively ancient, a sign that sentient beings once lived here but no longer. Despite the fact that this island looks abandoned, some strange grunts can be heard on the favoring breeze, maybe this island is still inhabited?
A warm breeze blows from the north, off the ocean and stirring the air of this lonely beach. A coastline runs east and west, rather regular on the edge of the Trackless Sea which occupies everything north of here, from horizon to horizon. To the south, a small gap in the cliffs on the southern portion of the beach allows access to the highlands of central Oman. Most of the beach looks rather lifeless; in fact, there appear to be no signs that anyone or anything lives on these islands anymore. There are only scraps of items left from the Northmen who inhabited this island many years ago.
This is the northeastern corner of Oman, staring out into the choppy waters of the Trackless Sea that surround this island on its northern and eastern sides from this location. A warm, salty breeze blows in off those waters, stirring the air of this lifeless beach. To the southwest, Oman rises into a series of highlands capped by a towering peak with a beautiful snowcap. Like this beach, and the rest of the island within view, it lies abandoned now, shunned by any of the cultures that once called it home. There are no signs of life, just the endless moaning of the wind as it crosses the region.
These are the eastern shores of Oman, once the home of a bustling community now wrecked and abandoned by the Northmen who resided here. Now this is little more than a rocky shore, sloping upwards to the west where the highlands of Oman dominate the island, in particular a monstrous plateau and a mountain top rising even above that. There are few signs of life in this broken land, but there are signs of new and recent inhabitants in this area, as some of the wreckage and scraps look far more recent than the upheaval of twenty years ago. The wind falls still suddenly, and the silence suddenly seems rather hostile.
A slight breeze blows east to west across this abandoned stretch of Oman, this specific spot being a rocky shore lying eastward and below the highlands of central Oman. The shoreline runs mostly north and south along the western edge of the Trackless Sea, rocky and a bit damp from the falling tide. There are few signs of civilization in this region, just the leavings of some hidden culture and the discarded relics of old settlers who have chosen different shores for their conquests. A grunting or groaning type sound echoes out of the highlands to the west, and fades among the winds, leaving the area to fall silent once more.
This is the southeast beachhead of Oman, staring out into the calm waters of the Straits of Oman to the south and the choppy waters of the Trackless Sea to the east. The beach itself is rather rocky, and shows little signs of use beyond the one game trail that appears well trod. To the northwest rise an area of highlands, capped by a massive peak covered in snow. It is from there that any sounds emit, hinting that something lives in the hills, something that wants to remain hidden for some reason. A wide but abandoned road leads westward along the shore, headed towards some sort of citadel.
This is the southern shore of Oman, rocky but passable. A narrow road leads along the edge of the hills east and west, towards the eastern end of the island one way and towards an old and decaying fortress the other. To the north lie the hills, the forerunners to the highlands of central Oman. There are signs that something lives in those hills, as large footprints have trampled some of the wild growth of that area. Beyond the hills is a towering mountain, sitting near a tall plateau. A grunting sound comes from that direction, although who or what it is from no one can tell.
The Straits of Oman flow upwards into a deep harbor at this part of the coast of Oman's Island, in front of a once-proud citadel. The Iron Keep fell twenty years ago to marauding forces from the sea and has since been abandoned, falling into severe disrepair as the Northmen have left this island to whomever else wants it. The sandy coastline runs east and west along the northern rim of the Straits of Oman, a placid body of water dividing this island from Gwynneth, seen through the haze on the southern horizon. Beyond the keep northward lies hills and other highlands, looking as empty as the fortress here, but echoing some quite unabandoned sounds.
This is part of the southern shores of Oman, looking abandoned and unused in the twenty or so years since the Northmen left the island for other lands. To the east lies a ruined fortress, somewhat collapsed upon itself and mostly decayed to a point of being uninhabitable any further. Towards the center of the island are highlands and a towering mountain with a snowcap, in and of itself looking pristine like the day it was formed from creation. From those regions come the sounds of grunts and howls, indicating that there is still life on this island, although what form it takes is quite unknown.
This is a line of dark hills, overgrown with all sorts of tangled underbrush that makes walking a difficult exercise at best. To the south and west lie rocky beaches overlooking different stretches of ocean, while to the east and north the land rises into a tall plateau. Strangely enough, this seemingly abandoned island sports life, as the small settlement nested between several hills indicates, well hidden from any shoreline or ocean vantage point. A few humanoid like beings live there, probably trying to remain hidden from prying or hostile eyes. They seem not to give this spot a second glance.
This is the northwestern corner of a large plateau, sitting just west of the famed Icepeak, largest mountain in all of the Moonshae Islands. From here, one can see a long distance in any direction on a clear day, mostly the waters of the Trackless Sea to the north and west and east, and all the way to the north shores of Gwynneth and the lands of Corwell to the south. Also from this point of view, one can see a community of hill giants or related beings in a protected part of these highlands nearby to the southeast, where they have a small camp set up by a crystalline lake. The giants themselves appear to be nonthreatening to anyone or anything in their present state.
This is the north slopes of the Icepeak, the tall mountain named for its snowcap. Legend has it that this was once the prison of some powerful firbolg demigod in years past, but now it is simply an ordinary mountain with a large pile of rubble at its base. To the north lie rocky beaches before the endless waters of the Trackless Sea, and east and west lie more highlands. From nearby, a giantkin sentry glares down at this location, but seems rather disinclined to do anything about what he sees, if anything.
This is the eastern region of Oman's highlands, mostly hills leading up to the edge of the great plateau that makes up the central portion of this island. From here, one can stare out over the waves of the ocean to both the north and east for a long distance, until the haze blocks out the horizon line. To the south and west lie the rest of this highlands region, split in half by the gargantuan Icepeak. A small community of humanoid beings makes a camp in the center of this plateau just next to a glistening lake, but they look rather harmless, and seem rather inclined to leave the rest of this island alone. One of them starts some sort of eerie chant, but what its significance might be is unknown.
This is the southeast section of Oman's hills and highlands, overlooking much of this island and a large part of the whole region of the Moonshaes. From here quite a bit can be seen, from the communities of the Ffolk on northern Gwynneth to the distant south, to the Icepeak just west of here, to the far reaches of the Trackless Sea to the north and east. Most of this highlands region is rather deserted, with the lone exception of the small firbolg encampment near a lake on the south side of the Icepeak. To the east and south are empty shores long ago left by the Northmen who once inhabited this island. The cry of a lone hawk echoes through the skies.
This is the southern face of the great Icepeak, nestled in the center of the highlands of central Oman. Nearby lies a small firbolg encampment on the edge of a crystalline lake, rather peaceful looking. In fact, the giantkin show no signs of hostility or any sort of aggression towards anything, they have only the appearance of wanting to live here in solitude away from the rigors of a world that might wish them harm. From here, most of southern Oman and even the Straits beyond are visible, with the rest of the island consisting of hills and rocky beaches to both the west and east. A chill wind blows off the summit of the mountain, bringing with it a rather eerie howling noise.
This is the northwestern rim of Snowdown, the smallest of the realms of the Ffolk. To the south and east lie most of the rest of this forested land, which sits just above the waves of the Trackless Sea. For the most part, this is an unoccupied land, just one small city visible through the trees to the southeast, and a couple of druids to tend the various groves of this land. The howls of wolves on the prowl, either on this island or on a nearby one through the haze, reverberates across the skies.
This is the northeastern corner of Snowdown, staring off into the infinity of the swirling waters of the Trackless Sea both east and north. This island is rather small, no larger than the largest cities of the realms mayhaps, and is mostly covered in light forest. Through the trees to the south, a small town, probably the only town of this island, is visible perched on a ridge near the ocean as well. The forest also continues to the west, and the flash of a blue rune from a tree alerts one that druids probably prowl these woods.
A small cantrev nestles protectively along a small ridge overlooking the waters of the Trackless Sea surrounding this tiny island. To the east and south the waters cover everything in sight, flowing from horizon to horizon, although in the distance to the east another land mass is visible through the haze and mist. This cantrev itself is a very small village, no more than a couple dozen homes and businesses. To the north and west, the forests of Snowdown beckon to travelers and the like, and are well-watched by the druids of the region.
This is the southwestern end of Snowdown, staring west and south off into the endless reaches of the sea. Little can be said about this part of the island outside of the fact that it is light forest. Clumps of trees are widespread, allowing easy walking access, while carefully pruned shrubs and underbrush are spaced to demarcate paths to the east and north. Through the treeline to the east lies a small city, while more forest is to the north. For a moment, it looks like a druid is standing on one of the paths, but when one turns back for a second look, he or she is gone.
This is a lightly wooded fringe of Moray, sitting on the northwestern coast of the island. Like the surrounding areas to the east and south, there are a number of trees here, but not enough to either block out the light from above or impede overland travel overmuch. To the north and west are the choppy waters of the Trackless Sea, extending from here to the horizon line and probably much beyond that as well. A salty breeze blows in off the waters, cooling the woods somewhat and stirring the leaves of the trees.
This is the western coast of Moray, lightly wooded like most of the rest of the island. Unlike a lot of the other forests of the Moonshae Islands, this one seems rather peaceful and very much unthreatening. Wide paths have been carved through the underbrush by the druids who tend this island, permitting easy travel to and from the various parts of the island. To the west, the Trackless Sea occupies the whole of the land from horizon to horizon. A distant howl echoes from the forests, and is quickly joined by another... a wolf pack must be on the hunt.
Light forest covers this part of the western end of Moray, mostly a wooded coastal area watching the calm waters of the Trackless Sea. The ocean itself spans the whole of the area west of here, from north to south, and horizon to horizon. The light forest covers most of Moray, narrow trails carefully cut through the wooded lands by the druids to both ease travel and protect the wildlife of their domain. There are few signs of habitation in this part of the island, just a circle of scorched stones indicating that a druid uses this spot as a frequent campsite.
This is the southwestern tip of Moray, forested land running east and north of here along the two coasts of this island. Most of the island, like this part of it, is light forest, wide trails wandering between copses of varying trees. Organized and carefully pruned plant life lies to the side of the trails, obviously well tended by the few druids that call this place home. While the forest seems to cover all the land in sight, the ocean covers the rest, on both the south and west sides of the island. The blue waters of the sea are rather calm, with just the kiss of a western breeze stirring it slightly and cooling the lands a bit. Other than the wind moving through the trees, all is quiet.
Light woodlands skirt a sandy beach here, climbing a small rise and vanishing inland towards the north. The forest itself follows the east-west line of coral reefs sticking out of the water about a hundred feet offshore, those reefs both acting as a breakwater and calming the local waters enough for the occasional swimmer who might have wandered down from the small villages undoubtedly inland. The waters themselves extend to the southern horizon and probably beyond, without hint of another land in sight. A small flock of birds circle lazily overhead on the light breezes, chirping and singing as they pass the time.
Light forest covers the southern coastline of Oman, rising a small hill to the north and heading inland as far as one can see through the various groupings of trees and other plant life. Wide paths have been cut along the shores to the east and west, and along the ridge line inland to the north, each permitting easy access to the rest of the island. Signs of druidic work are about, from runes glowing on trees to carefully pruned shrubs and flowers of incredible beauty. A breeze blows in off the Trackless Sea to the south, which extends all the way to the horizon without hint of another land mass beyond it. A white hawk circles the skies overhead, its shrieks reverberating across the air and the waves.
The coastline of Moray turns from east to north here, cornering the waves of the Trackless Sea which wash onto the tree-lined beaches eternally. That makes the soil rather wet and marshy, but shows little adverse effects beyond that. To the north and west lie more of the island, mostly covered in light forest and other assorted plant life. Wide paths are cut through the underbrush, allowing one easy travel to the rest of the island and helping to ensure that groupings of plants and flowers lie undisturbed. The air is rather still here, and very much silent as well. A robed figure vanishes through the brush suddenly, as if she were never there, probably one of the island's druids tending her forest.
Light forest covers this section of the eastern coast of the island of Moray, the coast running north to south along the edge of the Trackless Sea and the Straits of the Leviathan. A cool breeze blows off the choppy waters, making the climate of this region rather pleasant. The forest heads inland to the west, with a wide path carefully cut through the underbrush by the druids of the land as much to ease travel as to protect the precious plants of their groves. Even now, it appears one of those druids is stealthily making his or her way through the trees in observation of something. Paths also run along the coast to the north and south. In the distance to the north appears a small town that almost magically springs from the woods.
Here lies part of the light forests of Moray, hugging the eastern coast of the island and lying just south of the main (and only) city of this island. The forest itself is rather sparse in this section, and travel is easy even given that the druids have cut paths for travelers to use. To the east lie the waters of the Trackless Sea, here serving as a dividing point between here and the isle of Gwynneth a short distance across the Straits of the Leviathan. A couple of seagulls circle overhead, occasionally diving towards the ocean to pluck some item that catches their fancy, but other than that this seems quite the normal forest.
This is the northeastern corner of Moray, home to the seaport and only major city of the island. The city looks rather rustic in appearance, as if the residences and such hadn't been upgraded in quite a long time, even if they are in good repair. To the south and west lie the rest of the island, mostly light forest and the like. To the north and east lie the blue waters of the Trackless Sea and Straits of the Leviathan respectively, with a land mass in sight in the haze to the east. A couple of birds circle overhead, riding the warm, salty breezes from the north, lazily passing the day.
This part of the northern coast of Moray stares out over the waves of the ocean towards a distant land mass visible only in breaks in the haze around the northern horizon. The occasional wave washes up on the floor of the island, pretty much a light forest that starts here and covers every land mass in view. Broad paths have been allowed to foster between various shrubs and groupings of flowers, allowing travelers to use the forest for recreation and the such and at the same time preventing them from damaging the wildlife or the environment overmuch. Even now, the shouts of a couple of children undoubtedly enjoying nature echo through the air. To the east and west, the coastline continues, and in the former direction lies a small seaport town.
Forested hills overlook the Trackless Sea to the north and the rocky coasts of this island to the east and west. The forest itself is rather light, but is very well tended and kept up by its resident druids. Even now, one of them is taking a peaceful walk through, slipping between trees until she is out of view. The forest appears to occupy everything within view to the south, although it seems very non-threatening. A salty breeze blows off of the ocean from the north, cooling the area somewhat and providing relief from the heat and rigors of the daytime. A couple of birds circle overhead, enjoying the wind as well.
Light forest covers this spot, spreading quite a distance in all directions. Between the trees to the north and west, paths lead to the coasts of this land, leading right up to the water's edge before stopping. To the east and south, paths simply disappear into the woods, being careful to avoid any rare plants and the like of the woodlands. From all signs, there is a strong druidic presence here, not only keeping the forest clean but safe as well, since there are few signs of the predators that normally haunt such a place. A warm, musty breeze finds its source from somewhere nearby, stirring the air and sending a couple of birds flocking to find quieter places to nap.
Light forest covers the land, sparse enough to permit light in and for one to see his way as he travels this land. Paths are carved through the underbrush in all four major directions, the southern and western ones leading to the coast of this island and the other two heading inland. Unlike many other forests, this one seems non-threatening and even to a point friendly, as there are few signs of the hostile element present in other forests of the Moonshae Islands. A white hawk circles the skies overhead, almost as if it were keeping an eye on all travelers in this part of the island. It lets off a loud shriek, but still circles overhead anyway.
Light forest covers this section of Moray, flowing on the backside of a line of ridges to the south that are the preamble to a rocky beach. Coastline is also visible to the east, where the calm waters of the Straits of the Leviathan are visible. To the north and west lurks quiet forest, most unlike many other woodland regions that seem to bustle with life. Instead, this seems to be a quiet and peaceful place, well tended for by the druids like the one standing in the shadows nearby. Noticing unwary glances from nearby, he quickly vanishes from sight, leaving one to ponder which direction they wish to take.
The forest here is rather sparse, with a large gap in the treeline in the middle of this spot almost forming a small clearing of sorts. In the center of the open area is a ring of small stones, looking as if to have received regular use as a firepit of sorts, probably for one of the local druids. The forests extend in all directions, although they break shortly to both the north and the east, where the coastline and edges of a small village are visible. To the south and west the forests extend for a distance before view is blocked off. A warm breeze blows in from the east, making one feel rather pleasant and almost at home in this forest. A couple of birds lazily take wing overhead, chirping and singing and passing the day away.
A brisk northern wind blows over these rugged hills, which serve as the edge of the island of Norland. This is one of the grandest kingdoms of all the North upon the Moonshaes, as the large number of proud longships sailing a short distance off in the Trackless Sea indicate. The hilly region extends to the south for a long distance, and to the east for a lesser one before encountering a forested zone. From nearby, a small patrol sporting the colors of Grunnarch the Red, king of all Norland, crests a nearby hill and turns to the east, most likely returning home after a long day.
A chill wind whips across these hills of western Norland, chilling any viewer or tourist to the bone and driving even many of the hardy Northmen who work this area in one capacity or another away. These hills are rather barren, although there is enough life here to sustain small herds of cattle as many of the hardy men and women of the North tend. This region of the hills continues north and south on the eastern edge of the Trackless Sea, and also a short distance to the east before the forests of eastern Norland take hold of the land. That ocean to the west is presently rather turbulent, probably a result of these winds which might be a sign from their chosen deities, or just a late season storm.
A brisk northern wind whips through these hills, driving many to cover and leaving only the most hardy, for example Northmen, standing here to bear the brunt of the weather. These hills are rather barren, and as such show few signs of civilization. Only a couple of huts here and there, braced to withstand the elements that ravage this region, indicate a Northman presence. To the west, the waters of the ocean are stirred up, crashing again and again into the rocks just offshore. To the east, a dark forest covers much of Norland, while the hills run north and south. The cry of some avian predator splits the silence of the skies.
A chill wind blows through these barren hills, whipping past isolated houses and through valleys from north to south. Other than those residences, there is little sign of the citizens of Norland, most of them preferring more habitable climes like those of the forests to the east. To the north and south, this line of hills continues, dangerously exposed to the wild weather of this part of the world, while to the west lies the ocean. Even now it is rather turbulent, showing the effect of the weather. Looking about, there are no other living beings in view.
The strong north winds blow across these barren hills, sending clouds of dust flying everywhere, cutting visibility down some. Very little of note is evident in this land, just a couple of sturdy residences where tough peasants raise small herds of sheep in between whatever else Northmen do. To the east, past another line of ridges, lies a region of sturdy forest, extending to the edge of one's field of view and probably beyond. To the west lies the waves of the Trackless Sea, covering the whole of the western field of view. The rush of the brisk winds are the only sounds that can be heard.
This is a hilly region in the southwest of Norland, overlooking the Trackless Sea in two directions. This area appears windswept of any loose objects, as there is no light brush or such that normally marks such a region of hills. Curiously absent as well are signs of residences, whether towns or even isolated houses of individual peasants. To the east, over the next line of hills, is a forested region, covering most of eastern Norland from this vantage point. A small flock of birds circles the skies above, riding the winds and shattering the silence with their shrieks.
This is the hilly southern coast of Norland, staring out into the waters of the Trackless Sea to the south. Those waters are rather rough, a result of the strong winds whipping through this region of the world. In the haze on the southern horizon, another land mass is visible. To the west and north of here, a hilly region covers the land, lightly populated and used for grazing purposes by the occasional peasant. A forest lies to the east, covering the eastern half of Norland until it too reaches the oceans beyond.
This is a windswept region of southwestern Norland, a hilly region lightly populated and seeing only sparse use by the peasantry. The hills themselves continue in all directions but the east, reaching the blue waters of the sea to both the west and the south in short order. A light forest covers the land to the east, running between here and rather calm waters on the eastern horizon, and seeming rather nonthreatening. A small patrol of sorts appears on the northern rim of one's field of vision, making its way slowly through the hills in some sort of sentry pattern.
This is a barren, abandoned, windswept region of the kingdom of Norland, made up of a line of ridges running north and south along the center of this island. A chill wind sweeps through this area, further accentuating how hostile to man this place must be, and probably a main reason behind the lack of habitation in this area. To the west, over the next line of hills, lies the turbulent waters of the Trackless Sea, extending well into the distance before vanishing into a bank of haze. To the east lies a region of forest, and beyond that looks to be signs of a mid-sized Northman city and a citadel of sorts. A couple of birds circle in the air, riding the breeze, but remain eerily silent.
Barren hills lie here, making up most of western Norland, lying mostly in two parallel lines of ridges heading from north to south. The hills are very much abandoned, with only a few homes here and there in the valleys between them indicating signs of civilization, being individual residences. To the west and beyond the second ridge line lies the turbulent waters of the Trackless Sea, stirred up by the same, strong, northerly gales that whip through this part of Norland. To the east lies forested land, and a mid-sized town beyond it, that town showing signs of being a major capital of this land, probably the home of the king, Grunnarch the Red. Outside the wind, the world is silent.
This is a line of ridges extending north to south here in northwest Norland. Most of the hills are rather barren, having been swept clean by the strong winds that blow through from the north, and grazed clean by the occasional herd of cattle kept by the Northmen of this region. In the distance to both the north and west lie blue waters of the open sea, which extend to the horizon until they are lost in haze. To the east lies a light forest, covering the distance from here to the eastern horizon, and probably the rest of this island as well.
A brisk northerly breeze sweeps off the ocean to the north and whips through this region of hills in northwestern Norland. The hills themselves are very much barren, and show few signs of life or civilization. Only the occasional structure nested between lines of ridges in safe valleys indicate a presence from the men and women of Norland. Even now, a line of burly people issue from one such building, starting a sentry patrol towards the south. To the east lies a light forest, covering a lot of the eastern half of this island, and beyond that lies more of the open sea.
This is wooded ridge land, standing just south of the open waters of the Trackless Sea. A wind blows off those waves, chilling the area considerably as it sweeps through these woods. The forest itself is rather silent, and there are few signs of any sort of life. To the west lies a series of open hills, in two general lines of north-south bearing. The silence is broken by the shriek of some avian predator, circling somewhere nearby, although where is not certain given these trees. The forest continues to the east and south.
This is an area of light forest, sitting along a series of small hills that run north, east, and south of here. The forest continues in those directions as well, strangely quiet but in a nonthreatening manner. Unlike most of the other forests of this land, there appears to be no signs of a druidic presence. To the west lies a series of ridges, running north and south parallel to the west edge of this forest. On top of one of those hills are a few mounted riders, probably sentries and outriders of the realm of Norland, making sure that their western frontier is secure. From that direction as well comes a salty breeze, rustling through this forest.
This is the western fringe of light forest, standing under the skies over the island of Norland, kingdom of the North. The forest itself is rather quiet, although in a friendly fashion as if there was nothing inside it, and not as if some foul monster lurked behind the next tree. Unlike the other forests of the Moonshae Islands, there is no sign of a druidic presence. To the west is a double line of ridges, running north and south about a couple hundred feet apart from one another. A wind blows off those hills and towards this forest, warm and salty and invigorating.
This region of central Norland shifts slightly under a slight breeze, blowing west to east across the ridges to the east. This area is mostly light forest, running across a series of low hills running generally north and south from this spot. The forest itself continues north, south, and east of here, and a line of hills lies to the west. Those hills, much like the ones this forest sits on, run north and south. Along those western hills lie a couple of isolated houses and assorted other buildings. The air is eerily silent, although there is no sign of imminent danger about.
Light forest covers this section of Norland, a hilly region a short walk to the north of the Trackless Sea that borders the southern side of this island. Most of the forest is rather light, allowing the skies overhead to be clearly seen and permitting rather easy travel over the ground. A slight breeze blows through the trees from the south, having little effect but to stir the loose plant life of the area. To the east and north, this forest continues, running into the distance until visibility is blocked in each direction. To the west lies a series of hills, open unlike this region and sparsely populated by the peasantry of Norland. Even now, some of them are out taking care of rather mundane daily tasks.
This is a wooded region of southern Norland overlooking the choppy waves of the Trackless Sea to the south. Like the waters of the ocean, this area is feeling the effects of the gale force winds that seem to blow up out of nowhere in this region of the world. The forest continues north and east along lines of hills and ridges, rather treacherous to walk but not overly threatening. These hills continue also to the west, but without the accompanying forest, instead showing some signs of habitation and irregular use.
Light forest covers much of this southern coast of Norland, set on the end of a line of hills that extends in all directions from here. The air is rather quiet outside the breeze blowing in off the waves of the ocean to the south, and the rest of the forest seems eerily still as well. The forest extends in all directions save south, ending in a short distance to the west and east, one at a line of barren hills and one at the placid waters of the Straits of the Leviathan. To the south lie the white-capped waves of the Trackless Sea, reaching straight to the horizon and the haze there. A couple of seagulls dart across the skies, hastening to some other location.
This is light forest comprising much of this region of Norland, scattering in all four compass directions at least for a short distance. To the east and south the trees break onto shallow beaches before the aqua waters of the oceans, while to the west is a line of ridges beyond the forest. To the north, the wooded area extends for quite a distance, although signs of habitation are evident here and there via carved paths or sentry outriders of the Northman realm. The forest is mostly quiet, with only the distant howl of a wolf to echo throughout the stillness.
This is the central part of the forests of Norland, lightly covering the land along this line of hills running north to south. The forest itself seems to extend in all directions from here, ending a short distance to both the west and east, whereas there is no such end in sight to the north and south. Nearby to the northeast appears to be a sizable encampment or town of Northmen, in the middle of which is a stone keep, home of some powerful lord of the island of Norland. Other than that, there are few signs of anything out of the ordinary here, as there are no sounds to echo through the woods, nor does the wind blow.
This appears to be a forested rise near the eastern shore of Norland, also located very near the main city of this island. The forest itself is rather light, spreading into the distance to the north, south, and west. Beyond the trees to the east are the placid waters of some sea or strait, although very little of it is visible past Norland town. The going here is rather easy, with some sort of path cleared to allow travel westward, and the forest is sparse enough to not present a hazard in any case. A slight breeze disturbs the peace of the area, but dies quickly enough, leaving the forest eerily still.
This is light forest of northeastern Norland, scattered along a series of low ridges comprised in a general arc from north to south. Through breaks in the treeline to both the east and south, the rolling waters of the Trackless Sea are visible, rather calm despite the moderate winds blowing through this region of the world. To the west, the trees also break in a short distance, onto an open region of hills lying mostly unused by the populace of Norland. The sounds of a few animals echo through the forests from the south, but other than that this place seems rather quiet and still.
This is the forested northern coast of Norland, staring out north into the endless reaches of the ocean. A brisk wind blows off the waters, chilling this part of the island considerably and blowing away any loose brush. To the east and west this coastline continues, running through a series of ridge lines that seem to run north and south across the island in many places. To the east the ocean meets the Straits of the Leviathan along the eastern coast of this land. To the south the forest continues, rather light and permitting easy and safe travel to the rest of this island. In the distance to the south, a couple of brawny warriors skulk through the woods.
This is the wooded northeast corner of Norland, staring into the waters of the sea both north and east. To the north, the ocean is a bit more choppy, moving under the strong northerly winds that sweep through here and continue towards the rest of the island, while to the east the waters lie calmly between here and the island of Gwynneth. Here, west, and south is light forest, with only sparse clumps of trees standing here and there, allowing the light from the skies above to diffuse down and show any travelers where the risky patches of ground are. In the distance to the south, it appears some sort of port is visible along the edge of the island, but one cannot be sure from this poor vantage point.
This is light forest sitting just north of a rather important city, probably the only major city of this small kingdom. The forest itself looks rather harmless, generally sparse and cut in a way to permit easy travel through it, even if there are no signs of the druids that hold sway over the woodlands of the other islands of this realm. A couple of Northmen wander nearby, probably sentries and the like for the stone citadel rising above the treetops to the south. The forest itself continues to the south, around the city, and also to the west, whereas to the north it reaches the edge of Norland. To the east lies a calm body of water, stretching to the horizon where it gets lost in the haze.
This is a broad coastal village sitting just on the western rim of the Straits of the Leviathan, the broad channel of water dividing this island from distant Gwynneth in the east. The town is rather primitively built, with more effort spent for both the port, which is rather nondescript, and the towering stone citadel in the center of town. Above the castle flies the flag of the great Northman king, Grunnarch the Red, whom even now stalks his town directing the labors of his people. Surrounding the town on three sides is light forest, not overly difficult to pass through but running into the distance in every direction from here.
This is a forested ridge overlooking the calm waters of the Trackless Sea to the east. Most of the ridge is rather quiet, as the forest seems almost lifeless in its own way, and definitely nonthreatening. A calm breeze blows off the waters, cooling this area some as it bakes under open skies. The woods continue west and south, running to the edge of vision and probably beyond, as the various copses of trees tends to cut vision down some. To the north lies a mid-sized Northman town, as well as a castle in the middle of it, probably the capital city of Norland. On the waters to the east, a Northman longship swiftly sails past, heading for home with some sort of treasure or plunder.
This is light forest covering much of the eastern half of Norland. From here, the forest continues north, south, and west, running to the edge of one's field of view, lightly covering the land but not making travel difficult. The woods themselves are rather quiet, although in a non-hostile way, as there appears to be little sign of anything unfriendly pouncing out from somewhere to rip one's throat out. To the east lies the Straits of the Leviathan, a placid channel of water lying between here and Gwynneth, visible barely through the haze on the southeastern horizon. To the north in the distance appears to be a Northman encampment. Even now, a couple of sentry riders spur their horses and depart inland on some patrol.
This is the southeastern tip of Norland, a forested ridge overlooking both land and water from this vantage point. The ridge extends to the north, and a secondary ridge branches west, heading inland and further into the light forest that seems to cover it. The forest is rather quiet at the moment, as there appears to be no sign of any living creature lurking within. To the east and south are the aqua waters of the Trackless Sea, flowing and ebbing with the daily tides. A warm wind blows out of the south, bringing with it the salty odor of the open sea, and warming this area a little more than the sun already has. In the distance to the west, a couple of brawny warriors are visible, slowly heading this way on some sort of patrol.
This part of the archipelago is little more than a couple of rocks and reefs sticking part way out of the turbulent waters of the Trackless Sea. To the south and east lies the main part of this chain of islands, mostly rocky and definitely uninhabited these days. Rumor has it this place is haunted, and from the look of things, it just might be. A strong northerly gale whips past, chilling the rocks and anyone standing there. A slight whirlpool forms in the waters just to the north.
This is a low, rocky beach sitting just astride the turbulent waters of the ocean to the west. In that direction, and also to the north and south beyond it, the waters seem endless, isolating this stretch of lonely rocks in the middle of seeming nowhere. To the east lies a couple of craggy hills and ridges, rising out of the water, but now abandoned like this shore here. The remains of a number of huts lie here, burned to the ground by some unspeakable evil force. No one has returned to claim these islands, and there must be a clue as to why somewhere.
This is the southwestern edge of the Korinn Archipelago, little more than a rocky beach sitting just above the line of water, growing and shrinking as the tide changes the wave level. A brisk wind blows out of the north, sweeping much rubble down this way and eventually into the water, where it is lost forever. To the east and north rise a series of small hills in this small area of island, many of them torn and damaged. The island seems strangely bereft of life, with not even a bird nesting or roosting anywhere.
This is the southern shores of Korinn, a series of rocks simply lying on the south side of the main ridges of this region of the world. To the south is the turbulent ocean, shifting under the relentless force of the northern gales that even sweep through here. Along the beach are a few fragments of a former civilization here, burned and crushed by a relentless force and now left to whatever desires to occupy this haunted place. The air is strangely silent, as if nothing living was here to witness or reside.
This appears to be the high point of this chain of rocks, looming above the rest of this region and giving one an excellent view. Most of the rest of this chain of islands that extends a short distance in every direction has little to say for itself, with burnt husks of residences and such being the norm, and any people who were around having long since fled for more hospitable places. A stiff wind blows out of the north, sweeping a lot of loose rubble before it and driving it away, and exposing a small cave. From within the cave comes the sounds of something, although what or who it is cannot be told from here.
This is a small series of coral reefs lying just above the water at the present high tide, providing one a place to stand or rest but not a comfortable one at that. To the south, east, and west, rocky land rises out of the waters, looking as inhospitable as this place here. There are few signs of life around here, and even the birds stay away from this place. A brisk northern wind blows over these islands, its roar drowning out any other sounds that might signal something.
This appears to be the northeastern tip of this region of the world, little more than a couple of rocks poking out above the whitecaps of the incessant waves. The waters themselves are driven by a northerly gale that sweeps past and serves to help diminish these islands further by eroding their stone. To the west and south rise ridges and hills, high enough above the waters to survive in safety. A couple of broken boats lie along those shores, probably the remains of whomever used to live here. The tales say this place is haunted by something, and the lifeless rocks seem to uphold that view.
This is the eastern edge of these series of rocks, forming gradually into a cove that must have served as the harbor for the people who used to live here at one time. To the west rises a highlands region, although it too quickly tumbles down the backside back into the waves of the eternal ocean. To the north and south too lie the ocean just beyond more rocky beaches. A couple of ruined dwellings, burnt husks of houses, are the only landmark on this beach. What destroyed them and how is rather unknown, but their remains are a good sign that no one came back to rebuild.
This is a rocky ridge line jutting out of the water at an odd angle just a couple hundred feet away from the main shoreline of the Korinn Archipelago. To the north and west lies the main part of the island chain, just a couple of hills with crumbled and abandoned residences at its base. A brisk northerly wind chills this area, driving a cloud of pebbles and dust off the mainland and this direction, making it difficult to see. The waters of the ocean make for a monotonous view of the rest of the landscape in all directions.
This is a dark cave lying just at sea level, as evidenced by the ebb and flow of the waters in one corner of the cavern. The inky blackness is rather oppressive, and sinister in nature as well. From the shapes of the markings around the cavern and the strength the creator of them had to have had, this room might be the reason for why this island is abandoned. Some unspeakable evil must lurk here, and if it's not hidden in the darkness now, it must be out hunting, a shuddering thought indeed.
The waters here are rather placid, sitting on the western edge of the harbor of the city of Corwell. The waters of the firth continue north and east from here, peaceful and barely touched by the kiss of a westerly breeze. To the west lie the open waters of the eternal ocean, gently rolling waves moving north to south, while on the western horizon lies a couple of islands. To the south lies southwestern Corwell, in particular a mid-sized town with a lavish castle proudly rising above it.
The calm waters of the main harbor for the island of Gwynneth sparkle under the open skies of this region of the world, and sit rather placidly, allowing for easy travel by boat. To the south lies the coastline of the fair island, overlooking farming areas and the occasional small town. To the east, west, and north lie the rest of the harbor, barely moving but for the hint of a slight breeze out of the west, creating some small waves. A couple of birds circle overhead, lazily observing all that is below.
This is the eastern edge of the harbors of Corwell, lying just astride the myriad of roads along the shore of the firth. To the west and north lie the remainder of the placid waters of the bay, rolling slightly under the kiss of a seasonal breeze. To the south lies the fertile lands of southwestern Corwell, mostly farmed as it trails inland. To the east lies the great town and castle of Corwell, generally quiet from here.
This is the northeastern corner of Corwell Firth, the wide harbor that serves the capital city of the island of Gwynneth. Given its protected nature from the hostile elements of the open sea, it is understandably calm, with barely a wave moving under the light breezes that favor this region of the world. To the west and south lie the rest of this bay, calm and visible for miles. To the north of here lies land, a dark forest of sorts, while the fields of southern Corwell near the great castle are eastward.
This is the northern half of Corwell Firth, the deep and placid bay that serves the western half of the kingdom of Corwell as a harbor. The bay itself is rather calm, stirring only slightly underneath a passing breeze. To the east, west, and south the bay continues, its blue waters beckoning to longships and other merchant vessels of all types. To the north lies a dark forest, one of many that lie upon the island of Gwynneth.
This is the western edge of the placid bay that serves as the harbor to the major cities of western Corwell. Blue waters sparkle under the skies, and small waves move across the bay, guided gently by a light breeze. To the east and south the bay continues, while choppier waters of the open Straits of the Leviathan are west of here. To the north lies a corner of dark forest, one of many that lie upon this island.
This channel of water runs along the western coast of Gwynneth, a coastline which trails off to the north from here. To the east lies the dark forests of Oakvale, rather haunted looking in and of themselves. To the north and south lie the rest of the Straits, trailing into Corwell Firth to the south in the near distance. To the west is open ocean, choppy under a strong western gale blowing up, making travel difficult in that direction.
The Straits of the Leviathan are rather choppy here, influenced strongly by the strong western winds whipping through and over into Gwynneth. That majestic island lies to the east, shrouded by dark forest in this location that blocks view of what lies beyond. To the north and south continues this body of water, named for the sea-borne child of the Earthmother goddess who fell in the war against the Darkwalker some decades ago. To the west lies the open sea.
This appears to be a slightly sheltered cove along the coastline of the isle of Gwynneth, lying near the forests of Oakvale along the west side of that land. The waters are rather still, although they do shift underneath the westerly winds that even now blow through here with some force. To the north and south lie parts of this strait, continuing its journey along the coast. To the west lie the waters of the open sea, rather turbulent under a storm that the winds must be coming from.
This is a calm bay sitting along the edge of the coastline of Gwynneth, along the edge of the dark forests of that land. The area is eerily quiet, despite the birds who circle overhead on the brisk westerly winds that move through. To the east and south lies the mainland, dark and blocking visibility more than a few hundred feet inland. To the north lies the main parts of the Straits of the Leviathan, while open ocean is westward.
The waters ebb and flow here just off the coastline of Gwynneth. A small ridge of coral sticks up out of the water, barely visible at this high tide. To the north and east lies the forests of Corwell, dark and gloomy, and looking as if they are rather hostile to intruders. To the west and south are placid channels of water, not stirring much despite the presence of a goodly wind from the southwest. Beyond that lies the open sea, where a longship of the Northmen nations is visible.
This is a quiet strait lying just off the coastline of the island of Gwynneth. To the north lies the mainland itself, which is forested here, although it is rather dark and scary looking. To the other three sides are sparkling blue waters, glowing under the skies overhead. The waters are very much calm here, only skimmed by a slight breeze from the southwest. A couple of colorful fish swim near the surface, but then dart away to deeper and safer waters shortly thereafter.
The coastal waters of the ocean run along the forested beaches of Corwell here, turning from east to south as they follow the edge of the land. To the north and east is the land itself, rather mundane but dark and threatening in its own way. In the other directions, calm waters continue, touched by nary a breeze and lying still under the nearly clear skies. In the distance to the west is the open seas, and the southern tip of an island lies in the banks of haze there.
The lonely waters of the eternal ocean lap against the shores of Gwynneth to the north, moistening the dirt of a thick and dark forest lying there. The waters are mostly calm, ebbing and flowing just a bit and not reacting much to the very light winds that blow through. Calm waters are also east and south of here, continuations of the Straits of the Leviathan. To the west lies open sea, more turbulent than this sheltered channel.
This is a narrow channel of water between two of the islands of the Ffolk, with the lesser land of Moray to the west and the island of Gwynneth to the east of here. Both lands are covered with forest, dark forests on the mass to the east, while lighter groupings of trees are westward. To the north continues this placid body of water, barely touched by the swirling breezes. To the south are the open waters of the Trackless Sea.
This is the middle of a narrow strait of water separating two islands. The lightly forested Ffolk kingdom of Moray occupies the smaller land mass to the west. Eastbound are the dark forests of the kingdom of Corwell, looking far more threatening than Moray. To the north and south lies the continuation of this strait. A slight breeze blows around in circles here, causing a light disturbance in the waters but no more.
The dark land masses of forested island loom on both the east and west sides of this body of water. The Straits themselves are a rather peaceful place, nested between those islands and barely stirring. The waters themselves run from the north to the south, a safe channel for the merchant and war vessels of the allied kingdoms of this region of the world. The forests on either side look a little bit dark and eerie, though no threats to anyone out here are visible between the boughs.
The semi-open waters of this strait here run between two islands, the large and dark forests of Gwynneth to the east, and the northeastern tip of Moray to the west. Moray seems a rather nondescript little place, covered in light forest but not having the evil look of the woods to the east. The Straits run north and south from here, a bit choppier to the north as the open sea prevents it from having more protection from the winds that sweep in from the west.
Open waters swirl about here, disturbed somewhat by westerly winds that send waves washing up onto the shores to the east. Other than that dark and wooded land mass, there are no immediate obstacles around here. To the west lie a few coral reefs, just north and offshore of another small island. To the north and south of here, this strait continues, rather placid as it follows Gwynneth's coastline.
A strong wind blows from the northwest here, over this strait of water and further to the south along those waters. Other than that, is this a calm region of the sea, running along the western coast of the kingdom of Corwell. That coastline is mostly wooded, a rather interesting looking forest running inland as far as the eye can see. To the west are the waves of the open sea, while to the north and south these straits continue. A couple of aviary forms circle the skies, but remain quiet, as if observing only.
This is sheltered water along the coastline of the forests of the western half of the island of Gwynneth. The forests themselves seem rather ancient, and exude a slight magical aura to those who have the proper ways of sensing them. Other than that, there is little to say about the land. The waters of the Straits of the Leviathan lie in the other directions from here, stirring a bit under the western winds blowing through the Trackless Sea.
These are shallows just off the western coast of the island of Gwynneth, making up the body of water known as the Straits of the Leviathan. A couple hundred feet out to the west lies a broad coral reef, clearly above water and a picture of natural beauty. It contains this channel to a north and south path, rather calm unlike the ocean beyond to the west. There, the waters are more heavily influenced by the heavy winds blowing out of the west, whipping up the ocean into a region only fit for skilled seamen. To the east lies the forested coastlines of Gwynneth, one of many wooded regions of that land.
This is a small bay just off the coastline of the island of Gwynneth. To the south and east lies that coast, made of forests and low ridges riding the edge of these waters. Light winds shift the water a little bit, although not enough to make these waters dangerous to the unwary. To the north, this bay continues carving out part of the coast, while to the west lies the open sea, its choppy waters extending to the horizon without trace of any other land.
This is the northeastern corner of a small bay carved out of the coastline of Gwynneth and the forests of Myrloch. The woodlands to the north and east are rather dark and haunting, and exude some sort of mystical aura that cannot quite be placed. To the south, as with here, are the placid waters of the Straits of the Leviathan, scarcely moving under the steady western winds that blow through this region. To the west lies the primary part of the Trackless Sea, which occupies everything in view in that direction.
This is a small inlet along the coastline of western Corwell, bordering a dark and magical forest to the east. Even now, the forest lies dark, a looming bastion of some strange power, represented very ably by the druid standing on the shore and staring this direction. To the north and south, as with here, this body of water is calm saltwater, barely moving despite the presence of a moderate westerly wind. To the west, the seas get even more turbulent, as the open and unsheltered waters shift under the attack of nature.
These are rather sheltered waters running along the coastline of a rather large island to the east. That island is heavily forested, and that forest itself seems not only dark, but haunted in its own way, although what from is a mystery. To the north and south, these calm, aqua waters of the Straits of the Leviathan continue, shallow here along the shoreline and easily travelled by many. To the west lies the open sea, although an island is visible to the northwest, another forested land.
This is a narrow channel of water, running north and south of here between a pair of forested lands. To the east lies Gwynneth, and the spooky forests of Myrloch, magical in their own way and generally left to the animals. To the west lies the Northman kingdom of Norland. There are few sounds echoing through the skies, and even the wind is silent here. The only thing of note is the small seaport in the distance to the north on the western island, and a couple of longships are visible in that direction.
A calm northerly breeze pushes through the stagnant air of this body of water, which really is little more than a thin channel separating the islands of Norland and Gwynneth. On each side, on those land masses, are forests, a dark and foreboding one to the east and a light forest to the west, thinning out as it heads inland. There is little more to say about either island. To the north and south, this channel continues, calm and sheltered waters which are very convenient for the sturdy vessels of the Northmen to use when sailing the myriad of islands in this area of the world. A couple of hawks lazily circle on the breezes, quietly observing the world about them.
The northwestern end of the island of Gwynneth looms to the east of here, along the eastern edge of the Straits of the Leviathan. Those straits start here and run south between Gwynneth and another forested land, Norland, to the west. The waters are rather calm here despite the presence of strong northern winds blowing through. To the north lie the open waters of the sea, continuing to border Norland, and very choppy and turbulent under the effects of the wind.
These are placid coastal waters lying just off the hilly coasts of the land of Corwell. Those hills are covered by thick groupings of trees, the magical forests of Myrloch Vale which run inland from here. Those lie to the south and east of here. To the north, the waters narrow as they approach a secure inlet of water running along Gwynneth's northern coast, while to the west lies the open sea. Both are a bit less motionless than the calm waters here, disturbed by the gales driving through from the north.
The waters of the open sea lie quietly here, barely stirring despite facing a very strong north wind whipping out of the open waters. To the south lies a forested coast, dark and hostile and covering the land entirely. These waters lie along the low coastline, following it to the east and southwest as it turns in those directions. To the north and northwest lie the open ocean, rather dangerous to travel as it is highly affected by the previously mentioned winds.
These are the quiet waters lying just off the forested coastline of northern Gwynneth. The forests themselves seem rather unusual, exuding some sort of aura that one can't quite put a finger on what it does. To the east and west, these calm waters continue, the sheltered Straits of Oman, named for the island of the Northmen that it runs by further to the east, though not yet in sight. To the north lies the open sea, choppy under the strong northwesterly winds blowing through the region, the first of many gales that will sweep through in the next few weeks. A couple of longships are visible in that direction as well, but other than the wind, all is silent.
This is a sheltered inlet along the northern coastline of the island of Gwynneth, lying at the northern edge of the forests of Myrloch Vale. Those forests are south of here, dark and mysterious and looking like a land not meant for humans to tread. To the east are open grasslands, the northern region of the kingdom of Corwell. To the north and west are calm, aqua waters, light waves dancing across it as a breeze blows through. A perfect white hawk flies overhead, circling the skies and shrieking across the empty air.
The calm aqua waters of the Straits of Oman flow along the western edge of Northern Corwell, flowing north and south from this point in a rather lazy fashion. The waters barely stir, not even overly affected by the strong winds whipping out of the northwest of this place. To the east is a region of plains and fertile grasslands, making up the northern rim of Corwell's hegemony. To the northwest lies the open sea, rather choppy, feeling the full effects of the late season storm upon them. Through the haze to the northeast lies the island of Oman, once a great kingdom of the North.
This is the northwestern tip of Gwynneth, sticking out just a bit into the shallows here along that coastline. The Straits of Oman are deadly calm here, to the point that not even the winds from the northwest affect it any. To the east, this body of water narrows, entering a narrow channel between this island and that of Oman to the north. To the northwest lies the open sea, a bit wild today under those gales, while grasslands of Corwell are south.
This is the narrowing of the channel known as the Straits of Oman as it heads from west to east here, approaching the looming mass of the island bearing the same name to the northeast. To the south and southeast, on that edge of this strait, lies the grasslands and fields of northern Gwynneth, the largest island of all the Moonshaes. The waters themselves are rather calm and still, with only small waves disturbing the peaceful tranquillity of the aqua field. To the northwest lies the open sea, buffeted a bit by strong winds. Here and there, one of the Northmen's longships are visible.
This is the narrowest part of the Straits of Oman, running between two masses of land on the northern and southern horizons. The waters here are nearly blue, and scarcely disturbed at all. A small port lies on the southern landmass, probably the only Ffolk port on this stretch of water. To the north lies the island of Oman, little more than craggy beaches that show no sign of any civilization. To the east and west, the waters continue, widening dramatically to the west.
The Straits of Oman narrow dangerously here, as the islands on either side of it are no more than a few miles apart at this point. The waters themselves are a pleasant shade of green, and rather calm given that the lands block out most of the winds. This body of water continues to the east and west, widening some in each direction. To the south lies Gwynneth, a fertile island of grasslands in view, while to the north lies Oman, and the monstrous Icepeak topping the hilly land there.
The Straits of Oman are rather placid here, scarcely touched by the calm easterly winds blowing through. The waters are a wonderful shade of aqua, very pleasing to the eye and easy enough to sail upon, as the few fishing boats here indicate. To the east, the waters widen, as a bay in Gwynneth's coastline cuts away to the south. To the west, the straits narrow dangerously, as the rocky island of Oman cuts into viable sailing waters. A couple of seagulls whisk by, just a couple feet over the waves as they swoop through on their flight.
This is a wide bay cutting deep into the coastline of Gwynneth. That island has land mass directly to the west of here, fertile grasslands and plains regions approaching a seaport in the distance. Most of the land lies slightly occupied by hardy peasants and the like. In the distance to the south and east, across the smooth waters, lies forested land, rather light and friendly looking. The main part of the Straits of Oman lie to the north, and the craggy island of Oman just beyond it. The air lies stagnant, and rather quiet too, which is rather discomforting to veteran adventurers.
This is the middle of an area of calm waters sitting along the northern coast of the island of Gwynneth. The lands of northern Corwell kingdom lie to the west of here, lightly tilled by honest and hardworking Ffolk. To the south and east, the waters continue, running into forest a short distance in each of those directions. To the north, the bay continues, emptying out into the main part of the Straits of Oman in the distance. Beyond that, a rocky island rises out of the haze.
This is the southwestern corner of the great bay cut into the northern coast of the island of Gwynneth. To the west lies grasslands and plains land, ably worked by the peasantry of Corwell. To the south lies a light forest, much like the one across the waters to the east, but of different types. The bay runs towards the northeast, barely stirring under the kiss of a light wind wafting through the region. A couple of aviary figures circle overhead, possibly druids observing travelers through their lands, remaining eerily silent.
Calm, blue waters lie here, forming the southeastern corner of an inlet of water carving out a section of the coastline of the northern end of the kingdom of Corwell. To the east and south of here lie light forests, covering the land in those directions as far as the eye can see. Across the water to the west is a region of plains land, while to the north the bay continues for some distance.
This is the middle of a broad bay of water, sitting rather calmly here even given the moderate northerly breeze. The waters continue in every direction save the east, terminating a bit to the west and south, while opening up into the main section of the Straits of Oman to the north. To the east lies the forest of Aspenheight, a place of pastoral beauty blessed by the elves who lived upon these lands long ago. A white hawk circles the skies overhead gracefully.
Moderate northeastern winds buffet this area of the bay, sitting along the north coast of Gwynneth. To the east lies a light forest, unoccupied but rather harmless in its looks. Even now, a druid or two wanders between the trees, before they disappear into the distance. To the south and west lie the calmer parts of this bay, carving out a section of the coastal lands. To the north lie the choppier waters of the Straits of Oman, but by no means dangerous, at least evidenced by the skill which the two longships visible there are sailing. The silence of the air is split by the shriek of some avian predator nearby.
This is the middle of the Straits of Oman, running between the pristine lands of Gwynneth to the south and craggy Oman's Isle to the north. The southern land appears to be light forest, and the northern, rocky shores appear just as uninhabited as that woodland. To the east and west, this narrow strait makes its journey, lightly shifted by the favoring winds from the east. To the east as well, the strait opens up, dumping into the open sea. A small bay lies to the southwest of here.
This eastern end of the Straits of Oman passes between the tip of the island of Oman and the forests of northeastern Gwynneth here, opening up into the vast emptiness of the Trackless Sea beyond. Neither island looks to have much in the way of human habitation, in fact both regions look downright deserted. The waters here are clear and rather undisturbed considering the strength of the wind blowing out of the east, causing whitecaps in the oceans beyond. A small inlet of sorts is visible to the southwest.
The Straits of Oman near their eastern terminus here running between some woodlands to the south and the open seas to the north. A gale blows up out of the northeast, one of the sudden storms that all seafarers fear when plying the Sea of Moonshae. To the northwest rises the craggy face of the island of Oman, and the towering Icepeak looming above it, but the island itself looks to no longer be settled from all appearances. The moaning of the wind is only topped by the shriek of some hawk or falcon reverberating across the empty waters here.
The northeastern tip of Gwynneth is visible here, the wooded knob of land jutting out slightly into the calmer coastal waters. The Straits of Oman are here and lead westward, while to the east is part of the Straits of Alaron, another placid body of water separating a few of the Moonshae Islands. There is a light breeze blowing out of the northeast, steady enough to cause some waves in the open sea to the north. In the haze to the northwest, a rocky piece of land looms. The air is rather silent, save the moaning of the wind.
The calm, crystalline waters of the Straits of Alaron glisten here, sitting under the open skies and rising and falling with the tides and the northerly winds cutting through. To the west of here lies the island of Gwynneth, in this part rather forested and wondrous looking. To the other directions, the calm waters of the Sea of Moonshae spread, dividing the land of humanity here. To the east through the haze is another forested island, the land of Alaron. A small number of white birds flutter overhead, shattering the silence with their calls and shrieks.
This is the western side of the Straits of Alaron, named for the island that is shrouded in fog and haze to the east. This body of water is rather calm, feeling only the kiss of a light breeze across it, stirring it to rise and fall slowly but gradually. To the north, south, and east, the blue waters cover all within view. To the west, a hilly shore leads into a lightly wooded forest, the trees of Aspenheight. A druid wanders between the trees, protectively watching over her domain, and is gone before one can blink.
The shriek of a hawk reverberates across the open skies and waters of the Straits of Alaron here, drowning out even the howls of the northern gale that whips through. The waters of the straits themselves are rather tame when placed in comparison with those winds, but sizable waves do ebb and flow here. The waters continue north and south along Gwynneth's forested coastline, and east towards the distant island of Alaron, which also appears overgrown with forests from this vantage. A longship of sorts sails by that coast, tacking into the wind on its way home.
Mid-sized waves ebb and flow, washing up on the shores of Gwynneth to the west or simply shifting back and forth here along the Straits of Alaron. That shore to the west is rocky and sandy, and borders forest on almost every side. The Straits themselves are a mass of blue-green water, more green than blue in fact, that run along a general north and south course from here. To the east, the waters cover most everything in sight as well, although another island rises out of the haze in the distance.
This is the western edge of the Straits of Alaron, brushing up against a sandy shoreline to the west of here. That shoreline marks the eastern edge of the island of Gwynneth, and is surrounded by forest on its north and west sides. To the east, north, and south, the calm waters of the Sea of Moonshae surround one, rather placid, ignoring the winds from the northeast. In the haze in that direction is the island of Alaron, barely visible from here. The water in that direction stirs and froths a little bit, as if something was surfacing and/or submerging.
Gentle aquamarine waves flow and ebb east to west here, alternately washing up along the sandy shores of Gwynneth on the west side, or rolling out to sea in the other direction. The waves are rather light, considering the strong easterly winds blowing through the Straits of Alaron, a wind strong enough to blow away loose objects. To the north and south the straits continue, though they are far wider to the south as the island of Alaron fades away, over the horizon and out of view. A couple of longships flying the flags of Northmen kingdoms appear on the southern horizon, tacking into the wind as they head for some safe harbor.
The gentle rolling waters of the Straits of Alaron lie here, as well as carving a wide path to the north and south of here, lying along the eastern edge of the lands of Gwynneth. That land is mostly forest, although a swath of sandy beach precedes it. A wind blows out of the east, across open waters and through a bank of haze, cooling the area some but serving more to whip up the waters there, where a small fleet of merchant carracks sail. The silence is broken suddenly by the shriek of some giant bird, circling overhead and watching all beneath it.
These are the calm waters of the Straits of Alaron, rising and falling a slight bit with the tides and the winds blowing out of the northeast. The winds are gentle, serving to do little to stir up the waters. To the west lies the forested regions of the island of Gwynneth and the kingdom of Corwell, although it appears that part of the island is not inhabited. To the north and south, the strait continues, narrowing towards the south as a neck of the island of Alaron enters view. A bank of haze lies to the east, what lies within it is an unknown.
The Straits of Alaron continue to narrow here as they head south, a mass of aqua water serving as a barrier between the islands of Gwynneth to the direct west of here and Alaron rising out of the haze banks to the east. The waters are calm, as is the wind here, which is strange given the dangerous nature of the weather along the Sea of Moonshae. Gwynneth is mostly forest here, although a stretch of beach does lie before it. Several birds flock there even now, gazing out to sea in a rather disquieting fashion, as if they were watching for something. To the north, the straits also continue, with the land of Alaron fading away towards the east.
Calm aquamarine waters ebb and flow here, rather calmly in this section of the Straits of Alaron. To the north and south, this body of water continues, running along the sandy eastern coast of the island of Gwynneth. To the east, the water broadens a little bit, approaching the forested island of Alaron in that direction. A slight breeze blows from that direction as well, bringing a rather salty scent with it. The skies are silent, although a small flock of birds do soar overhead.
Shallow waters lie just offshore of eastern Gwynneth here, bordering that forested and hilly land along its coastline. The Straits run a rather straight course to the north and south, running between this island and that of Alaron just a distance to the east. Like Gwynneth, Alaron too appears rather wooded and dense. There is little sound other than the motion of the waves beneath here, and the slight rustle of plant life under the incessant easterly winds. There are no signs of animal life within the panorama of the landscape.
This is an exceedingly narrow portion of the Straits of Alaron, perhaps the least wide point of the whole body of water. Just a short distance to the west and east lie forested islands, both of them rather dark and hilly. To the south and north, the straits continue, moderately deep water lying rather calm despite the prevailing easterly winds to push them. A coral reef of sorts lies in the water to the south, forming two almost parallel channels in that location.
A sharp reef of coral lies here in the middle of the Straits of Alaron, beautiful but deadly as it splits the channel in two. Even now, the wreckage of some unfortunate fishing vessel lies upon it, and the blood staining the reef indicates that the boat was not unoccupied. To the east and west, beyond the waters, lie forested lands, of Alaron to the east and Gwynneth to the west. Both forests look dark, but somewhat unthreatening, despite the absence of any sound or motion from them. A steady eastern wind prevails here, bringing the tangy scent of the forests of Alaron, and a couple of birds circle lazily in the skies, enjoying the day.
Forested coastlines surround the straits here on both the east and west sides, rather impressively blocking the water from spreading in those paths. The straits themselves are rather calm despite the strengthening easterly winds whipping through the region, with only slight waves flowing back and forth. To the north and south, the waters continue underneath the midday sky, running their course parallel to the coasts of Alaron and Gwynneth. To the north also lies an impressive coral reef, glistening under the clear skies and a picture of great natural beauty.
The Straits of Alaron continue to parallel Gwynneth's eastern coast here, following the path of the rocky shoreline rapidly approaching a looming range of mountains to its south. To the east lies the forested tip of Alaron, that island's land fading to both the north and east from here. Growing waves of aquamarine water occupy the Sea of Moonshae here, pushed by stronger eastern winds now that there is less land to diffuse them from Alaron. Despite that, there is little danger to the safe and knowledgeable traveller, and the ship of Northmen sailing by seems to even enjoy the challenge those winds pose. The cry of a wolf echoes from the northeast in the distance somewhere.
The Straits of Alaron narrow dangerously here, as they run into sandbars to both the south and west of here, blocking further sea travel in both of those directions. To the east of here is the tip of the forested island of Alaron, while northward lies the main portion of the Straits of Alaron. Waves crash along both shores and the sandbars, driven fiercely by the winds blowing off the shores of Alaron. To the southeast, a narrow channel connects this part of the Straits to the rest of Gwynneth's coastal waters, but it seems to be impassable to all but the smallest and best guided of fishing boats.
The southeastern sections of the island of Gwynneth beckon just to the west of here, a range of mountains rising up over the water that scatters in every other direction from here. To the north and east of here, as with the water that currently is underfoot, the seas lie rather calm despite strong eastern winds blowing through the Sea of Moonshae. To the south, the waters open up far more than here, the choppy waves the forerunner of the Trackless Sea. The air lies silent, but several birds circle overhead, or dive down towards the waters hunting for fish.
Open waters of the Trackless Sea edge into the calmer waters of the Straits of Alaron here, bordering the mountainous regions of the island of Gwynneth just to the west. The waves are rather mid-sized, driven by the fierce winds blowing out of the southeast. To the north and east, the calmer coastal waters offshore of Alaron lie peacefully, while to the south the Trackless Sea covers the area from horizon to horizon.
The waters of the Trackless Sea are very calm here, forming a natural harbor that appears to receive some use by the townspeople occupying the peninsula to the south. The town on the peninsula is probably the small eastern seaport of the kingdom of Corwell, a rather quiet town all in all. To the east, north, and south, the waters continue, occupying everything else in view. A couple of small fishing vessels occupy parts of it, hardworking Ffolkpeople eking a living out of the hostile seas.
The calm waters of the Straits of Alaron border a knob of land sticking out into the sea here, probably the easternmost port of the kingdom of Corwell. Beyond that town to the west lies a winding road disappearing inland beyond one's vision. The straits, which occupy everything else in view, are a body of calm, blue water sparkling under open skies. Waves slide back and forth across its surface, driven by the southeastern winds blowing off more open waters. A couple of seagulls flock overhead, enjoying the warm day and the favoring winds that they enjoy soaring on.
This is a sheltered bay along the coastline of southeastern Gwynneth. To the north lies a small fishing town, quietly nestled into a small bank of hills and ridges at the foot of a mountain range, while the dark and foreboding woods of Llyrath Forest lie to the west. Here, the waters are as smooth as glass, barely disturbed here and there by a small fleet of fishing vessels playing this water. To the south, the seas are a bit more open, and feel the touch of the winds blowing out of the southeast. But for the sounds of the Llyrath Forest, it is silent.
The Straits of Alaron carve out a niche in the coastline of Gwynneth here, a coastline totally covered by dark forests. Those forests seem somewhat of a menace to the casual observer, from the growls and howls emanating from between its trunks, and the blue runes on some of the trees. In contrast, the waters of the straits are rather peaceful. They barely stir despite the moderate winds blowing out of the southeast, although the waters further to the southeast show evidence that they are affected by the weather. The air is silent outside of the moaning of the wind. A few longships appear in the extreme distance, at the horizon as if they were skirting the lands of the Ffolk.
These waters near the southern terminus of the Straits of Alaron here, the lands to the west almost at their southern end as well. That land is mostly dark and haunting forest, the woodlands of Llyrath where it is said humans dare to tread in lieu of firbolgs and even worse that inhabit that cursed place. To the east and north lie placid waters, barely feeling the kiss of the winds that blow through this area. To the south, the seas grow more unruly as they round the horn of land and extend out into open waters.
These are calm waters lying along the eastern edge of the forests of Llyrath and the islands of Gwynneth here. Despite the fact that moderate winds blow off the waters of the Trackless Sea to the southeast, the waters here are very much navigable and safe, except to the most novice of seafarers. To the east, the straits continue, although the island they are named for cannot be seen. The straits also continue to the north, but to the south is simply untamed ocean.
These are rather choppy waters, driven fiercely by southern winds, bordering the wooded coastline of Gwynneth. To the west, and somewhat to the east, these conditions persevere, while to the south they only get worse, almost barring travel in that direction. Other than the moaning of the wind, the skies are eerily silent, like the woodlands to the north. Those forests are amazingly unusual, but they emit an almost palpable sense of evil and doom in their own way to those onlookers who can sense it.
The dark coastline of the island of Gwynneth lies to the north, even now being battered by the turbulent Trackless Sea. A strong southern gale whips through the region, driving waves crashing upon the forested shoreline, and also making the rest of the seas dangerous to travel. Even now, a lost Ffolk fishing vessel struggles with the storm in an attempt to find a safe place to land. To the east and west, the situation appears to be little better, while travel to the south would be an arduous task at best.
The dark mass of the Llyrath Forest makes a rather uncomfortable sight on this stretch of waters given the danger that every direction poses from here. To the south, travel may very well be impossible, given the rising height of the waves blown forth by the gale-force winds, while to the east and west the waves also seem to be just as dangerous, although travel is easier along the coast. To the north, the forest is dark, and all sorts of mysterious sounds and flashes of light emanate from it, making one wonder if it is more dangerous than the sea or no.
Gale-force winds blow through this stretch of water, driving white-capped waves and various ocean debris into the cliffs that make up the coastline of Gwynneth here. Above those cliffs lie a dark forest, almost haunted by its look. The seas appear rather unsafe here, as well as both to the east and west, given the sight of wreckage from several fishing boats and even a Northman vessel of sorts. To the south the waves are towering, and it is uncertain how much progress one could make travelling in that direction.
This is a rocky section of Gwynneth's coastline, with reefs and the like making for very difficult sea travel along this portion of the Moonshae Isles. To the east and west, the heaving seas continue, huge waves being driven by strong southerly winds out of the main portion of the Trackless Sea. In fact, the combination of wind and water may very well prevent one from travelling too far in that direction. Other than the moaning of the wind, the air is silent, and not even any boats or birds break up the monotony of the landscape.
This appears to be a sheltered cove within the coastline of southern Corwell, barricaded somewhat from the fierce winds blowing off the Trackless Sea to the southeast. To the east and north lie the mainland parts of that kingdom, with fields to the north and a dark forest to the east. To the west, the waters of the coast continue, rather calm like this bay here. To the south lie rough waters, driven by those winds and not protected. Even now, a couple of sturdy boats struggle with the seas there. The air here is silent, and there is little motion other than the few birds circling over the forested region in view.
Calm coastal waters of fair Gwynneth lie here, light waves caused by the strong breezes from the southeast, but posing no real threat to safety-conscious travelers and marines. To the north of here lie some of the fields of southern Corwell, ably tilled by farmers and other hardworking peasants to bring forth produce from the land. To the east and west, the coastal waters continue, while to the south lie the more open waters of the Trackless Sea. The silence of the skies is split by the shriek of a hawk, circling nearby over a dark forest in the distance to the northeast.
This is a quiet bay along the coastline of Gwynneth, bordering sections of fertile grasslands lying north and east of here. The winds are calm, making a strong contribution to the seas being in the same condition, thus easily used by Ffolk for pleasure or fishing. To the west and south of here, the waters continue to follow the coastline of this island, rather calm themselves. The skies are amazingly silent, even given the fact that a flock of seagulls roosts nearby, just sitting along the shore.
The Trackless Sea borders the southwestern tip of Gwynneth here, that land used primarily for farming and grazing here. To the north lies that land, but to every other side the waters of the Trackless Sea cover everything from horizon to horizon. Most of the waters are calm, despite the salty breezes that blow through from the southeast and south. A couple of fishing boats dot the waters here and there, but other than that there is little to remark upon in this stage of waters.
The waters of the Trackless Sea are remarkably calm here, flowing between the great land mass of the island of Gwynneth to the east, and the relatively small and wooded island of Snowdown to the west. As a result of those islands to either side, this north-south strait of water is rather calm, barely a wave disturbing its glassy surface. A southeasterly wind cools this region somewhat, preventing it from baking overmuch under the open skies. Other than the slight volume of the wind, it is very quiet here.
This appears to be the northern terminus of this region of the Trackless Sea, calmly merging with the large and open harbor of the island of Gwynneth just to the north of here. That island lies to the east, fertile grasslands dotted with the occasional small town. To the west is a small, forested island, showing little signs of life or threat. To the south, the waters open up slightly as they flow past the southern ends of both islands, opening up into a slightly turbulent ocean. Other than the southerly breeze, it is quiet here, even given the birds circling overhead.
The Straits of Alaron are exceedingly narrow here, flowing east and west between the forested mass of Alaron to the north and the mountain country of Gwynneth to the south. As a result of such, the water forms almost sort of rapids here, whirling around a couple of jutting rocks and making travel rather dangerous for the unwary. A wind blows out of the east, further compounding the problems by causing waves to throw the few ships in sight around like small toys. A couple of birds circle overhead, shrieking out in joy or on the hunt, but other than that there is little to say about this region.
These are calm coastal waters on the eastern portion of the Straits of Alaron, lying near the forests of the western region of that island. Those forests are amazingly nonthreatening, even though they lack the pacifying presence of druids. To the north and west, as with here, green-blue waters lie calmly, barely touched by the light breeze blowing off the mainland and onto this stretch of water. To the northeast, the island of Alaron fades away some into a bank of haze. The skies are silent, and there are few signs of life within view.
A light easterly breeze blows through this section of the Straits of Alaron, a section where crystalline aqua water is all around. To the southeast lies the forested island of Alaron, simply a dark mass at the edge of the straits. To the west and through another bank of haze lies the eastern shore of Gwynneth, while to the north and south the water continues without end to the horizon. In the distance to the extreme north, a couple of longships appear, probably the property of some Northmen kingdom.
This is a small offshore bay nestled between stretches of the forested parts of Alaron. To the south and east, that wooded land rises a small series of ridges overlooking this placid body of water, silent and mysteriously empty of any motion or signs of life that one normally associates with a forest. To the north and west, as with here, the waters of the straits are rather calm, despite a sturdy wind blowing out of the east. No other land is in sight, although that may be more a function of the heavy haze lining these waters than the fact that it may not exist.
This is calm water sitting in the middle of the Sea of Moonshae, making up the Straits of Alaron. To the east is the island that this specific body of water is named for, a dark mass of forest all that is visible of it from this point. To the west is another dark and wooded island, Gwynneth, which just might be the largest of all the Moonshae Islands. To the north and south, the water is surprisingly calm, this despite the sizable winds blowing from the northeast here. A couple of longships flying the colors of various Northman kingdoms are visible throughout the straits, sailing north, and probably home.
This portion of the Straits of Alaron are rather calm, sitting near the narrowing stretch of forest that makes up central Alaron. That forest is to the south and east of here, dark and looking rather bereft of life. The waters here, and to the north and west, are rather calm, despite the moderate winds blowing off the mainland. Small banks of haze collect here and there over the waters, making it difficult to sense if anything else is out there, but other than that this area is unremarkable. A couple of birds circle overhead, their shrieks reverberate over the open waters.
The Straits of Alaron are a bit choppy here out in the middle of this body of water, almost halfway between Alaron and Gwynneth. The latter island lies a distance to the west, lightly forested beyond a rocky shore. To the east, Alaron too is wooded, although eerily silent. To the north and south, the straits continue running parallel to the coastlines of both islands, rather wide and calm despite strengthening winds out of the southeast. A couple of longships appear on the southern horizon, marking a northerly course and racing before the wind on their route home. Other than the whistle of the wind, and the slight motion of the waves, the skies are eerily silent.
Waves flow and ebb here in the middle of the Sea of Moonshae, part way between the island of Alaron and the island of Gwynneth. The former island covers most of one's eastern field of view from here, a majority of that dark and forested. To the west lies Gwynneth, barely visible through the swirling haze that seems to collect over much of the waters. To the north and south, the waterway is wide but uncluttered, running to the horizon and beyond. There are no sails in view, but a couple of birds circle nearby to the east, lazily riding the breezes under mostly clear skies.
This is a shallow, stagnant bay sitting along the coastline of Alaron, occupying a small niche along the forested shores of that island. To the north of here lies a vibrant forest, alive with the sights and sounds that one would normally associate with a forest. To the east and south, however, the forest there seems dark and evil to a point, deadly silent as if some nameless killer lurked within. To the west is a wide strait of water, running north and south, as well as west to the horizon. For the most part the waters lie still, though there is some motion from the easterly winds that blow even here. A couple of small boats dot the water, sailing or fishing or otherwise passing the time.
The straits here are calm, coastal waters flowing only slightly, and washing up on the shores of Alaron to the north. Alaron is primarily forest there, running along a series of low ridges as it disappears inland, dark and haunted looking and eerily silent. To the east and west, the coastal waters continue, rather calm given the moderate breeze blowing out of the southeast. To the south of here, the waters open up some, and the seas are a bit rougher. Despite this plethora of terrific sailing space, there is hardly a sail in sight.
The calm, coastal waters of Alaron continue here, running east and west along the forested ridges of that great island. The waters lie still despite the strong southeasterly winds blowing off the rest of the straits, whipping some of them up into whitecaps and other signs of severe weather. The few boats that are visible out in the main parts of the straits are clearly having trouble with this weather. To the north, Alaron is forested, dark and gloomy. The sounds of howls and grunts are curiously absent, however, and instead this whole region seems mysteriously silent, as if everything were lying still waiting for some sinister event to happen.
Calm aqua waters lie here rather calmly, sitting astride the southern beaches of this part of Alaron. To the north lies that dark forest, mysteriously quiet unlike other forests of the Moonshae Islands. To the east and west, the waters of the Straits of Alaron continue, also lying rather still in shallow pools on the coast of this island. To the south, the ocean is more active, with tall waves driven fiercely onward by the southeastern winds blowing off the rest of the straits. In that direction as well, a couple of birds circle over the area, their shrieks the only sounds over the monotonous moaning of the wind.
The coastline turns from east to south here, as Alaron turns a corner and with that corrals this part of the Straits of Alaron. All within view of the waters to the west and south are calm, lying still despite the winds blowing through that one would think would have more effect on the straits. In fact, the waters are so calm and nice that a couple of children play in some of the shallow pools nearby, and a couple of fishing boats simply sit enjoying the day. To the north, Alaron is a dark forest, while to the east a grasslands region seems to cover the island.
A sandbar rises above the shallows here along the western coast of Alaron, splitting the Straits of Alaron to the west from this shallow coastal area that almost seems like a beach for local children to play on. A brisk southerly wind brings in the invigorating smell of the open sea, as well as cooling the region somewhat. To the east and inland is a grasslands region, rather fertile and used somewhat by the Ffolk who live here. To the west lie the open parts of the straits, a bit turbulent from the winds but not overly dangerous to the learned seaman. To the north and south the coastline continues, and the straits parallel that.
The north-south coastline of Alaron continues here, sitting just east of this body of water. The straits here are blue-green in color, and calm despite the raging southern gales blowing off the Trackless Sea. To the north and south this continues, calm coastal waters running along the edge of Alaron's plains. To the west, the waters open up some, and the winds have more pull with the ebb and flow of its waves. A couple of longships are also visible in the distance in that direction, riding before the wind as they head northward and home.
Light waves ebb and flow onto the sandy shores to the east, marking the west coast of Alaron. Further inland on that great island is a region of plains and light grasslands, tilled by hardworking peasantry. To the north and south, as with here, the aqua waters are rather calm, this despite the near gale-force winds from the south. To the west, the straits open up a bit, flowing west to and over the horizon. A couple of white birds circle over that part of the water, lazily riding the breezes and occasionally letting out a deafening call.
This is a small tidal flat just west and offshore of the main part of the island of Alaron, mostly dusty and semi-fertile grasslands within view from this vantage point. A small layer of water covers the flats, although it is clear enough to see all the way to the cracked bottom of the sea floor. To the north and south the waters continue, although they grow ever shallower as they follow the coastline of Alaron to the south. West of here, the straits pass a large sandbar and then enter deep seas, secure enough for any large seafaring vessel to pass through. Even now, a couple of boats of the Northman navy, flying the flags of Olafstaad and Gnarhelm, are practicing a couple of naval maneuvers.
This is a small harbor, sitting just offshore of a mid-sized fishing town along the western coast of southern Alaron. To the east is Llewellyn, the aforementioned town, a small village of one and two-story buildings nestled against the shoreline. The waters here are somewhat shallow, although they are deep enough to securely keep several fishing vessels safely docked, and also serve as a harbor for some larger ships if needed. To the north and south are mostly coastal flats, rather shallow and used by local area children as a place to play when the weather is clement. To the west are the deeper waters of the main part of the Sea of Moonshae.
This is a small coastal flat lying just off the western coast of Alaron. The waters of the Straits of Alaron are barely thigh high to a tall human, and both calm and clear despite the gale force winds blowing out of the southwest. To the north and south, the coastline of Alaron continues, that island being mostly dusty plains land within view. To the west lies the main portion of the straits, an area of deep waters and strong waves. Overhead a couple of birds circle, eagerly staring down and awaiting their lunch it would look like.
The waters of the southern end of the Straits of Alaron are rather choppy here, driven by the strong southerly winds blowing out of the open reaches of the Trackless Sea. To the west, the straits continue, with another land mass rising out of the haze near the horizon. To the east the waters become very shallow, before washing up on a dry and dusty beach. To the north, the waters continue, also running to the horizon and beyond like to the south.
The aqua waters of the Straits of Alaron mesh with the choppy waters of the Trackless Sea just to the south of here, forming into the open ocean. To the east and west, land masses lie in the distance, little identifiable about them from this distance. To the north, the waters flow to the horizon and beyond, forming a wide, natural channel perfect for boats of all types. Even now, a couple of varied vessels dot the waters, from gallant Northmen longships to simple fishing vessels, and everything in between. Other than the southern winds, it is rather silent, and there are no signs of life here either.
This is a wide channel in the middle of the Straits of Alaron, almost set halfway between Alaron to the east and Gwynneth to the west. Both islands are little more than brown smudges on their horizons from this distance, giving away little about their makeup. To the south, the waters open up some into the turbulence of the Trackless Sea, while to the north the waters continue as they are here for quite a distance. Few boats are within view here, and fewer birds, but a wondrous reef of coral juts out of the water nearby.
Tranquil waters ebb and flow here, a distance off the west coast of Alaron and the east coast of Gwynneth. The straits run mostly north and south here between the coastlines of those great islands, calm and perfect for all sorts of boats despite the strong southerly winds. To the east lie some shallows and beyond it a town, the only remarkable features visible on either island. To the north, the waters run out of sight, although some birds circle in the sky in the distance that way, while to the south the waters open up beyond the southern tip of Alaron. A shriek reverberates across the waters from somewhere uncertain.
The waters of the Straits of Alaron are rather calm here, almost crystalline underneath the open skies of the Moonshaes. To the east and west, the waters shallow a bit, and run up onto shorelines, of Gwynneth to the west and Alaron to the east. To the north, the straits continue, on a north by northwest course as they angle between the two islands. To the south, the seas begin to grow a bit rough, as the southerly winds affect waters a bit less protected as they head towards the open sea on the horizon. A couple of birds circle overhead on the open skies, their calls drowning out even the endless sound of the winds.
These are calm waters in the middle of the Straits of Alaron, flowing north and south between the two major land masses in sight. To the north, the plains of Alaron occupy most of the field of vision, while the forests of Gwynneth lie on the western horizon. Most of these waters are calm, this in defiance of the near gale-force southern winds whipping through the strait, playing havoc with every boat from fishing vessels to the majestic longships of the nations of the North. To the south, the waters flow on, heading for the horizon, while a mass of forest blocks the straits on the northern horizon.
These are the calm waters of the middle of the Straits of Alaron, lying just offshore of the island whose name graces this body of water. To the east and north are coastlines of that land, though little of its interiors are visible. To the west and south lie the aqua waters of the straits, rather calm despite the best efforts of the winds from the southeast to change that. The waters are empty of boats right now, though various aviary figures flock overhead.
This appears to be a small corner of a coastal bay lying near Alaron. To the north and east, that island occupies most of one's field of vision, with forest in one direction and grasslands in the other. To the south and west, the open waters of the Sea of Moonshae cover everything in sight, but are amazingly calm given the winds whipping out of the southeast. A few boats are visible here and there, and the cries of some birds drown out even the howl of the wind.
Stiff southerly winds drive the ocean against the shores of southern Alaron here, that shoreline being a jagged series of cliffs that never quite recovered from the massive battle fought there twenty-five years ago. To the east and west, this froth continues, making sea travel difficult but not quite impossible in this weather. To the south, large walls of massive waves seem to do their utmost to prevent travel in that direction, though it might be possible. There are few signs of life here, and nothing can be heard over the smashing of the waves into the rock face to the north.
The mighty ocean known as the Trackless Sea roars here as it crashes time and time again into the southern coast of Alaron. For the most part, the waters here are massive walls of angry green water, driven fiercely by the southern gales. Those winds, and the water, may actually prevent travel towards the south, although a couple of longships of the Northmen seem determined to take that course. To the east and west, the coastline continues, the sea no less difficult to navigate than here. To the north is a series of cliffs marking the southern terminus of the island of Alaron.
These are the rough waters of the Trackless Sea here, large waves slamming through driven by the fierce southern winds of the Sea of Moonshae. In fact, those walls of water might prevent travel to the south entirely, although some boats appear to be trying it. To the west, the water continues to follow the southern coastline of Alaron, although the waters there look just as precarious as here. To the east, the coastline turns, and the seas grow a bit more calm, while to the north is a line of cliffs.
This is a breezy region of coastline staring out over the endless waters of the Trackless Sea. To the west of here is the island of Alaron, which is hilly and rather barren from what one can see of here. To the north and south, the coast continues, although travel towards the south seems to be a dangerous prospect given the increasing tides from that direction. To the east are the endless stretches of the Trackless Sea, extending all the way to the horizon and beyond, seeming almost too long a distance for one to want to travel. A couple of birds circle overhead, their shrieks drowning out the roar of the surf.
This appears to be a small sandbar lying just offshore of Alaron. To the west, a short distance through coastal flats, is a flatlands region though rather dry and dusty. To the north and south is calm coastal waters, bluish green in color, and lying rather still along the shoreline. To the east are the infinite reaches of the ocean, flowing to the horizon and beyond. A brisk easterly wind blows through the region, cooling the area some but doing little to prevent the exposed land from baking.
Small, rainbow colored fish swim in these shallow waters lying just offshore of the island of Alaron. To the west is the coastline of that great land, which is mostly dusty plains land from what is within view. To the north and south are dry flats, exposed under the low tides of this region and baking under the clear skies and warm temperatures. To the east is the majority of the Trackless Sea, rather unremarkable all in all. A couple of sails appear on the distant horizon, marking a northwesterly course of sorts as they sail for the lands north of here.
The placid waters of the Trackless Sea lie here, shifting slightly under the effects of the tides and the breeze that blows out of the east. Only a thin layer of water covers the cracked flats of the shoreline here, while to the west the island of Alaron is alive with all sorts of shades of green and brown. To the north and south this area of shallows continues, while to the east lie the vastness of the ocean. A couple of small sails are visible in the distance, while some flocks of white birds circle overhead, riding the wind.
These are offshore shallows, lying just to the east of the mainland of Alaron here. The waters themselves are rather calm, and stir only slightly underneath the breezes blowing out of the northeast. The lowlands of Alaron are to the west, grassy for the most part. To the east is the Trackless Sea, leading from here to the horizon and probably well beyond. It appears such a long distance that thoughts of heading that way quickly leave one's mind, as if the execution of such an idea were impossible.
This appears to be a rough coastal flat, lying just offshore of the island of Alaron to the west. Other than the slowly ebbing tide, there is little motion out here in the waters, even given the constant east winds. To the north and south, this salty flat continues, turning the corner with Alaron to the west. East of here lies the glittering expanses of the Trackless Sea, leading to the horizon and well beyond.
This appears to be a wide natural harbor, heading west towards a glittering city just barely in view on a hill in the distance. To the north and west, the waters are amazingly passive, even given steady winds out of the east and north trying to push them in varying directions. To the south lies the grasslands of southern and central Alaron, with a winding road making its way through that region of the land. To the east lies the glittering waters of the Trackless Sea, covering an incredibly large amount of space to the horizon and beyond. A couple of sails bearing the colors of Calidyrr can be seen nearby.
This is a broad, deep harbor set in the middle of the coastline of Alaron. To the south of here is a grasslands region, sparsely inhabited. A road also runs through that region, enabling easy travel for landlubbers. To the north, east, and west, Whitefish Bay continues, a calm region of aqua water sparkling under the open skies. A warm breeze blows out of the east from here, and a few birds circle the skies, but nothing appears to be out of the ordinary.
This appears to be the southwest corner of Whitefish Bay, the harbor that serves the kingdom of Calidyrr and the island of Alaron. To the north and east lie placid waters, barely stirring under the kiss of the light winds from the northeast. To the south and west are regions of grasslands, both with a winding road traversing them. A couple of small pleasure boats cruise these safe waters, the cries and shouts of revelers drowning out the occasional whoosh of a puff of wind.
This is a light coastal area of the Whitefish Bay, a small region of shallows along the shoreline of the island of Alaron. To the west lies a broad road allowing travel to most of the kingdom, while beyond it is a dark forest. To the east, south, and north, the harbor continues, its aqua waters rather placid on this day. A couple of birds circle the skies, lazily riding the east wind, while a number of boats cruise through the waters beneath them. To the north along a low hill is the city of Calidyrr, its palace towering above all else.
This is the calmest part of the harbor of Calidyrr, lying just offshore of that great city's docks. To the west is the city itself, lying along a low hill overlooking much of the surrounding region. To the east and south the bay continues, lying rather calmly underneath the open skies. A couple of vessels are visible throughout the water, most flying the flags of Calidyrr or other kingdoms of the Ffolk, although some pleasure craft can be seen. To the north the coastal waters of Alaron continue, running along a broad woodlands region.
This appears to be the middle of Whitefish Bay, a calm harbor serving the glittering city of Calidyrr to the west. In all four directions from here, water of a brilliant shade of green spreads about, calmly ebbing and flowing slightly under the influence of the winds and the tides. That wind blows rather steadily out of the northeast. A couple of sails dot the harbor itself, most of them flying the colors of Calidyrr or some other Ffolk kingdom. A few seagulls flock overhead as well, occasionally letting out earsplitting shrieks.
This is a region of calm coastal waters, lying just offshore of the island of Alaron. That land mass is due east of here, mostly forested ridges heading up towards a region of highlands. Here, as to the north and south, are a couple of areas of shallows, though a moderate undertow glides through them, with the threat of sweeping the unwary beachcomber out to sea. To the west are the main parts of the Straits of Alaron, and an island rises out of the haze in the distance there as well.
This is an offshore sandbar just west of the forests of northern Alaron, lying calmly under the open skies of the Sea of Moonshae. Little else can be said about this rather unremarkable channel of water, dividing Alaron to the east from Gwynneth in the distance to the west. Aqua waters calmly ebb and flow, while a couple of birds circle lazily overhead, riding the winds out of the north as they waste away the day. One of them shrieks suddenly, and the whole flock takes wing towards the shelter of the woodlands to the east.
This appears to be a bay sitting in a sheltered niche in the coastline of the island of Alaron. To the north and east lies this land mass, with plains in the former direction and a heavy forest in the latter. To the west and south though continues this body of water, mostly calm and placid even given the winds from the northwest whipping steadily through. There is little sign of life around, and little motion on the sea indicating this channel receives regular use by either the Ffolk or the Northmen. Only the small whirlpool a short distance away to the west disturbs the peace of this area.
This is the coastline just west of the northern end of Alaron, that land lying to the east, mostly a dusty plains land occupied here and there by villages of the warlike Northmen. The coast itself is rather quiet, and only light waves seem to occupy this region of the straits, despite the strong northerly winds blowing through. To the north and south, this coast continues, while to the west are the main and deeper waters of the straits. A few sails appear on the distant horizon, marking a slow but steady course this way, as if they were returning home.
This is a small cove along the coast of the Northman kingdom of Olafstaad. To the east, that kingdom is mostly barren plains land, hilly here and there but looking rather lifeless and unoccupied. To the north lies a mid-sized city, complete with a modern port. To the south and west are calm coastal waters, just like here. They aren't very deep, and they lie rather motionless in face of the north wind sweeping through. A couple of birds flock overhead, but they emit no noise, as if they too have been drained of life like much of this region appears to have been.
This appears to be some sort of manmade harbor just offshore of the great capital city of the Northman kingdom of Olafstaad. A number of sturdy and proud ships are scattered here, their crews either diligently maintaining them or enjoying the distractions of the town on the land to the east. Here the waters lie rather motionless, although a stiff wind does blow out of the north. To the west lies the main section of the Straits of Alaron, heading off into the distance between two islands visible there. To the north and south are shallows and salt flats along the edge of the island.
This is part of the northern end of the Sea of Moonshae, just about at the northwest tip of the island of Alaron and the kingdom of Olafstaad. Alaron itself lies to the east, and is rather ordinary looking, mostly dusty plains land of low fertility. The waters here are rather shallow, and clear enough that one can see the bottom of the ocean, at least if they are not submerged in it. To the north lie the open waters of the Trackless Sea, a bit choppy under the force of gale-force winds. To the south is a natural harbor, while to the west lies the rest of the Sea of Moonshae, leading towards an island shrouded in the haze common to this area of the world.
This is a small cove along the coastline of northern Alaron, a region of shallows nestled against a sandbar. The waters here are a bit choppy despite the lack of depth, as a brisk northerly breeze sweeps through, also serving to chill the area considerably as it broils under open skies. To the east and west this coastal flat continues, while to the north the ocean opens up, and extends all the way to the horizon. The area is silent, in fact there are few if any signs of life here, as not even the birds flock near.
Waves splash up against the hilly shoreline here, just north of the ridges that seem to split northern Alaron in half. Most of this region of water is rather shallow however, and appears exceedingly safe to all except the most novice of swimmers. To the east and west, this region of coastline continues, although one would think that more turbulence would be in order given the strong north wind whipping through. To the north are the open waters of the Trackless Sea, heading off towards infinity as they extend to the horizon and beyond. A couple of birds circle lazily overhead, but remain eerily quiet, as if they were worried about something they didn't want to give their presence away to.
The roar of the surf upon the shores of Gnarhelm drowns out almost every other sound right now, even the brisk winds. To the south lies that kingdom of the North, semi-fertile grasslands bordered on its west side by a range of low ridges. To the east and west of here are gentle coastal flats, lying just off the shore and rather tranquil in comparison to the Trackless Sea to the north, which is white-capped by those strong winds mentioned earlier. No signs of life are apparent, although a series of reefs in the distance to the north can be seen by the surf pounding against it as well.
This appears to be a dangerous looking bay nestled along the coastline of Alaron, as a series of reefs and other sharp rocks threaten any seafaring vessels unfortunate enough to blunder near them. To the east and north are the rather calm waters of the Trackless Sea, rather calm and quiet despite the raging northeast winds. To the south and west is the land mass of Alaron, mostly a grasslands region of some Northman kingdom or other. In the distance on the northeast horizon appear a couple of sails, though their insignia is not visible from this vantage point.
This is a sheltered niche along the craggy coastline of Gnarhelm, although the reefs and rocks scattered about makes it rather dangerous for any craft that might blunder into it. To the south and west is the grassy land of Alaron, occupied by the Northmen though not overly used. In the other directions are the choppy waters of the Trackless Sea, driven relentlessly towards shore by the winds whipping out of the northeast. Nothing can be heard above the wind, although a couple of aviary scavengers lazily circle the skies, as if waiting for the next wreck to take advantage of to feed.
The waves of the Trackless Sea sweep into the rockface of the coastline of Alaron time and time again, driven fiercely by the eastern wind whipping off of the vast stretches of the endless ocean. To the north and east of here is that ocean, sparkling under mostly clear skies, and shifting under the winds mentioned earlier. To the west and south are a small series of cliffs, backed by grasslands that look mostly abandoned despite the patrols snaking through that vast countryside. A couple of seagulls flock lazily overhead, just riding the winds quietly, enjoying this fine day.
The coastline of Alaron forms a bit of a knob here, jutting out quite a bit into the rather calm waters of the Trackless Sea. While a few waves stir here and there along the shoreline, the ocean tends to be rather still, enabling the ships of the North visible here to travel rather effortlessly. Alaron to the west is mostly flat and grassy, and lightly populated. To the north and south, the shoreline continues, although a bit more turbulent than here. To the east lies entirely ocean, covering all within sight.
This is a semi-calm harbor situated along the coastline of the Northman realm of Gnarhelm, lying just offshore of the one major city on that land. Most of the island is rather flat and grassy, though only lightly populated despite its seeming fertility. To the north as well lies part of Gnarhelm, although there it is a bit rocky. To the south and east of here the coastline continues, rather calm despite strong eastern winds blowing off the Trackless Sea. A small flock of seagulls takes wing overhead, shrieking over the moaning of the sea breezes.
This is a small sandbar lying just to the south of the main city of Gnarhelm, effectively blockading its harbor safely on that side. To the north and west lies that realm of humanity, grassy and fertile but barely used and populated by its people. In fact, the only signs of life in that land are the small patrols snaking through the empty countryside. The waters here are rather calm looking, barely stirring under the kiss of the eastern wind. South and east of here that coastline continues, very much like the waters here.
This is a soft coastal flat, lying just southwest of the mainland of Alaron. It is low tide here, allowing one to see through the mostly clear waters all the way to the floor of the ocean, which looks rather interesting in itself, and is home to a variety of plant life. To the west and south the calm waters continue along this coastline, while to the north and east of here is forested foothills, rising inland towards a couple of taller peaks.
This is a sheltered bay along the coastline of north central Alaron, lying just to the east of a dark forested region. The waters here are unremarkable, the mass of greenish-blue covering everything in sight from here on eastward. Small waves lash against the shores every once in a while, more driven by the fierce eastern winds than anything else. To the west and north lies coastline, mostly forested though some plains land is within view. A small flock of birds takes wing overhead, their songs and shrieks drowning out the roar of the surf and the whistling of the wind.
This is a small coastal flat, lying nearby to the island of Alaron to the west. That land mass is darkly forested, a series of ridges lying beneath a mountain range appearing in the center of the island. The waters here are relatively calm, stirring some under the kiss of an eastern breeze but not overly turbulent. To the north and south this coastline continues, also rather shallow in most places. To the east are the main waters of the Trackless Sea, seeming so infinite and distant that one almost wouldn't want to head that way.
This is a calm coastal area of water, sitting just north of the natural harbor that serves the gleaming castle on the hill to the south. The waters lie very still here, despite a fair wind from the northeast, pushing at loose objects and driving them ashore to the west. Alaron is mostly forested around here, cutting visibility down to a very low level. To the north the coastline continues, to the south is the harbor of Calidyrr. East of here lies the rest of the Trackless Sea, rather plain from here to the horizon, with nary a sail in sight.
This is a region of dark coastal waters, a bit rough but still very much traversed by various boats sailing various flags. To the east is the rocky island of Oman, though it does look rather barren and uninhabited. To the south and west as well, land masses appear on the horizon, though few details are discernible from this distance. To the north is the Trackless Sea, running the span of one's sphere of view. Strong winds blow out of that direction as well, bringing quite a chill to this coastal area.
These are rough coastal waters just to the west of the rocky island of Oman. That island appears to be very much deserted, a barren beach before the hills of the center of that land. To the west, south, and north lie choppy waters, blown by a stern north wind whipping through the region, chilling the area to a large degree. To the west and south as well appear distant land masses, though their size and makeup is not determinable from here. To the north lies only the open sea, lonely stretches of water fading into infinity.
This is a sandy area of shallow coastline just north of Oman's Isle, lying along the edge of the main portion of the Trackless Sea. The water is very shallow, and of a light enough shade of green that one can see all the way to the bottom. The coastline to the east and west is much like this as well, although a bit more choppy as the northeast winds bite into those areas. To the south is the deserted rock of Oman, although the normal sounds of highlands animals emit from there. The Trackless Sea is north, running all the way to the horizon and probably well beyond that.
The waters here are rather shallow along the northern coast of Oman, settling into a series of shoals that make it rather easy to simply enjoy the tide going in and out along the rocky beaches to the south. The waters are amazingly calm even given the brisk northern winds whipping through, chilling the area that would otherwise bake under the open skies. To the west the coastline continues, and to the east somewhat as well, although a sandbar is visible there. To the north lie the open waters of the Trackless Sea, extending all the way to the horizon.
A small sandbar sticks up out of the waters here, almost dividing this offshore area into shallows and the rest of the ocean. Most of the waters inside the sandbar between here and craggy Oman to the west are rather calm, this despite the raging northeastern winds blowing off the Trackless Sea. The island itself looks rather lifeless, although a couple of birds do circle overhead, staring down at the endless waves. To the north and south this coast continues, the waters there just as calm as here. To the east are the main waters of the Sea of Moonshae, fading away into the distance.
The waters of the Sea of Moonshae seem to form a bit of a bay here, along the southeast coastline of Oman's Isle. That land mass rises to the west, with some hills before a towering, snowcapped peak. To the east, north, and south are placid waters of various parts of the Sea of Moonshae, disturbed little by the strengthening winds from the north and northeast. A couple of sails are visible to the east, flying the flags of various Northman kingdoms.
The waters are very choppy here, blown by the north wind that rages fiercely in this portion of the Trackless Sea. Only to the north do the waves not rage about, as a small chain of rocks, reefs, and other islands lies just barely above the waves, lifeless and deserted it seems. To the east, and west the white-capped waves flow on, leading to and from nowhere. To the south, a hint of another island appears on the distant horizon.
The tide ebbs and flows along a small coral reef here, sticking up out of the water like the set point of a barbed spear. To the east of here lies the continuation of these reefs, mostly assorted rubble lying on the surface of the ocean, but including at least one full island. To the west and north of here lies the endless reaches of the Trackless Sea, flowing undisturbed towards the edge of one's field of vision. To the south lies a turbulent sea whipped up by the northern winds that chill this part of the waters.
These are the calm waters lying at the north end of the Korinn Archipelago, that series of rocks, islands, and reefs just to the south of here. The water here remains calm despite the chill wind sweeping through from the north, seemingly only chilling the area that might otherwise bake under the open skies. To the east and west this region of placid waters continues, while to the north lies nothing but open sea.
This is the eastern end of the Korinn Archipelago, the reefs and other rocks jutting out of the sea blunting most of the fury of the gale whipping through. As a result, the waters are rather calm, which is probably the best way to describe this whole region. The rocks to the west lie abandoned, with some charred husks only indicating something lived there long ago. To the east and north of here lies open, lonely seas, extending for quite a distance towards the horizon. To the south, the wind works its full fury against the Sea of Moonshae, but there too the ocean extends out of sight.
This appears to be the southern edge of the Sea of Moonshae, bordering the coast of a small forested island just to the east. The waters and the winds are amazingly calm here, especially given the frequency and ferocity of storms along this region of the world. To the west and east lie the coastline of this island in view, while to the south of here lies the endless reaches of the Trackless Sea, heading off towards the horizon and beyond.
This is the southwestern corner of the Sea of Moonshae, bordering one side of the tiny island of Snowdown. That forested land lies just to the east of here, barely taking up much of one's field of vision should they look in that direction. Its coastline calmly runs north and south, with neither sudden reefs or turbulent waves causing much need for worry. To the west of here lies the endless reaches of the Trackless Sea, heading off to the beyond, or whatever else may lie out there. It seems a rather unattainable goal, and those few boats on the water don't ever try.
This is the leeward side of Snowdown, a bay comfortably nestled along the coasts of that forested island on its north side. To the east and west is quiet coastline, the waves barely moving as with here, and just the hint of a slight breeze kissing the water. A couple of birds fly overhead, probably having flocked from their homes in the trees. To the north lies more placid water, although another island, larger than this one, is visible in the distance.
This appears to be the northern limits of the Sea of Moonshae, becoming the Trackless Sea here and beyond. Most of the panorama of the landscape is rather repetitive, just azure waves sparkling under open skies, while a chill northerly wind whips through, making everything far colder than normal. Only to the south is there any sign of anything other than water in this region, as the hint of mountains and highlands appears on the horizon as little more than a brownish smudge. A small whirlpool twirls here, though what its significance is, if any, is unknown.
Brisk winds blow through this area of coastal waters, causing ripples and small waves to wash up against the shores to the north. There lies a small island of forest, rather nonspectacular, but dark and foreboding in its own way. To the east and west this coastline continues, shallows along the sandy shores of the island mostly. To the south of here lie placid waters, although in the distance lies another island.
The waters here are rather calm, lying just offshore of a small forested island to the north of here. That island is rather nonspectacular, although the normal forest sounds can be heard over the rush of the breeze blowing off the waters to the west. East and west of here are more shallows, along the shores of the island, although to the east it's more a narrow channel of water separating this island from another further east. To the south lies the open and empty waters of the Sea of Moonshae.
This appears to be the western end of the Sea of Moonshae, staring out further to the west into the vast reaches of the Trackless Sea. In fact, that part seems so vast and endless that it's almost a shame to try and prove it wrong by heading out that way. To the east of here is the forested island of Moray, one of the minor kingdoms of the Ffolk. North and south lies more sheltered coastline, bristling a bit under the strong western winds. A couple of birds circle overhead, quietly riding the winds.
This is a placid body of water lying just offshore of the northwest tip of Moray. That forested island lies to the south and east, rather bland when compared to the other great forests of the Moonshaes, but a thriving kingdom of the Ffolk just the same. North and south of here, the shoreline and shallows continue, although some channels are available for boats. To the west of here is open ocean.
This is a shallow coastal flat lying just off the north coast of Moray. That forested island lies just south of here, quiet and unassuming for the most part. To the west and east of here this coastal flat continues to follow the shores of that island, calm and quiet like. North of here are the sparkling waters of the Sea of Moonshae, dividing this island from the next. A salty breeze blows in from the northwest, and the sound effects are provided by the shrieks of the seagulls taking wing overhead.
This is a small region of coastal flats, shallows lying between a small coral reef jutting out of the water and a forested island to the south. The water is amazingly calm despite moderate northwest winds blowing through, though those winds do serve to prevent the region from baking underneath the open skies. To the east and north of here are more calm waters, with islands visible in the distance each way. A couple of birds lazily circle overhead, enjoying the day and occasionally drowning out the wind by calling to one another.
This is a small sandbar lying just off the southern coast of the Northman kingdom and island of Norland. Most of this region is shallows, with little enough water between the sandbar and land to see all the way to the bottom. The waves are rather calm here, despite the fact that a raging west wind sweeps through, tossing loose objects about like small toys. To the north the island is forested, while to the east and west of here lies more shoals and coastline. To the south lies the open sea, broken only by another island in the distance.
This is an area of calm waters and shoals off of the highlands of western Norland, that island which presently lies to the north of here. Despite the very strong western winds, it seems that this area is almost unaffected by the raging of the elements, although some objects are thrown about. To the east and west of here the seas continue to defy nature along the sheltered coastline of Norland, while to the south of here are more open waters less protected from nature's wrath. An island lies in that direction as well.
This is the southeastern tip of Norland, its forested hills jutting out a bit into the calm waters of the Trackless Sea. The island itself looks rather deserted, its forests dark and eerie, and silent as well. To the west and east of here lies the calm coastline of the island, though to the east that body of water serves as the offshore area of Gwynneth further to the east. South of here lies the open sea, although an island rises out of the haze there. The skies are silent, this despite a strong wind blowing through from the west.
These are calm coastal waters lying just offshore of the Northman kingdom of Norland to the west, and the Ffolk land of Gwynneth to the southeast. For the most part this area lies rather silent, as even the north wind seems to be insufficient to whip up any naval turbulence. To the west Norland is covered by a dense forest, although a mid-sized city lies here along the coast, sporting a brilliant red flag above it. To the north the coastline continues somewhat as well, while a strait begins to the east.
This is the northern side of the island of Norland, darkly forested and lightly inhabited from the view here. Most of this region is calm shallows, barely stirring despite the gales from the north, which seem to whip up the ocean beyond into a furious whirlwind of water. To the east and west the calm shallows continue as well. Overhead circles a bird or two, looking rather lonely in the open skies.
A magnificent reef of coral sticks out of the water a short distance away here, bringing a touch of beauty to this otherwise bland region of shallows. Just to the south of here are the rocky lowlands of western Norland, looking about as lifeless as the empty skies and seas here. The coastline of the island runs east and west from here, while the open seas lie to the north, although those are rather dangerous to travel given their reaction to the gales whipping through.
This is a region of shallows lying along a low sandbar along the western edge of Norland. That island is rather rocky, a series of ridges and hills making up all one can see of it from here. The ocean itself is rather calm, although whether it's an effect of the shallows or just low tide cannot be told from here. To the north and south the coastline continues, just as quiet as it is here, while to the west of here lie the open waters of the Trackless Sea. There is nary a sail nor seabird in sight.
This appears to be a small coastal bay cut into a niche of the coastline of the island just to the east of here. The island itself appears rather lifeless, as the hills in view show no signs of human habitation. To the north and south of here the coastline continues, as calm as here. To the west are the vast stretches of the endless ocean, leading to the horizon and probably well past it as well.
Midsized blue waves lash back and forth here in the middle of the open sea, swamping anything in sight that it can get away with. Strong northerly breezes whip through as well, making staying here a most unpleasant experience. The only landmarks of note are a small chain of rocks to the southwest. Other than the wind, all is silent, and no ships of any sort are visible.
The Trackless Sea stands very turbulent here, an effect of the seasonal storm blowing through at this moment. The skies themselves look rather clear, though dangerous gray clouds race towards this spot. A north wind sends the ocean crashing through time and time again, the combination making staying here a miserable proposition. To the southwest in the distance lies a series of reefs and a small island or two, but that is the only significant feature that is visible from here.
The ocean is white-capped here, a result of the strong winds sending waves of blue-green water speeding towards the south. This appears to be a rather desolate stretch of waters, and one that might have sent more than one ship to its death as a couple of pieces of rubble lie upon the waters. To the west in the distance appears a chain of islands, marking the only non-water visible for miles.
This appears to be the most desolate stretch of the Trackless Sea yet, with absolutely nothing in sight for a lost traveler to cling to for hope. In all directions from here, the angry and unforgiving waters are whipped up by the strong northeasterly gale blowing through, making standing around a very poor proposition for anyone who might wish to survive any length of time. Few signs of life abound, just a bird or two that has wandered too far from shore and cannot return.
This is a whirling vortex of water, wrapped tightly enough that nothing can get out or in from any side. The vortex widens both below and above here, with the upper path leading to the waters of the Trackless Sea and the lower path opening up into the wide sea floor. Other than that, everything seems to be a haze of blue waters, with all sorts of sea animals swimming around in it.
This is the floor of the Trackless Sea, right below the whirling vortex that brought one down here. Other than the incessant pressure of tons of water from above, this is almost a homey looking place. The water itself is mostly clear down here, allowing one to see quite a distance through the warped landscape. To the west, north, and southeast lie the three great cities of the undersea: Deepvale, Kresillacc, and Kyrasti. What inhabits those cities cannot be told from here, although it is noted that the sharks circle the latter two.
This is the eastern edge of the city of sahuagin. Most of the surrounding area is made up of small residences carved out of the stone of the outcroppings on the ocean floor, and as such almost seems like a human city except for the water. The shattered hull of a Calidyrrian carrack lies in the middle of this suburb, although it is falling apart. To the north, west, and south, this underwater city continues. Sahuagin circle everywhere, taking little note of anyone's presence.
Rows of neatly arranged coral sculptures line the floor of the ocean here, running along the wall of a massive sea cliff blocking the further progress of this undersea city of the sahuagin. Those fish-people even now go about their daily lives, for the most part paying one no mind here. Some of them stream in and out of those coral structures, using them as homes and businesses. To the south, this line continues, while to the west the city opens up some.
The undersea city of Kresillacc nestles against a rockface here, blockading it from proceeding further to the south and east. Most of this region appears to be residences of some sort for the sahuagin, mostly carved out of rock and coral that was already along the sea floor. To the north of here this line continues, while to the west of here appears to be some sort of area that would be an open field or square of sorts were it above ground. The sea pressure here is rather light, but noticeable.
The hull of a massive Northman longship occupies a large section of the floor of the ocean here, gutted and almost turned into some sort of building by the sahuagin who call this city home. A couple of them swarm about it now, paying it all of their attention as they make minor adjustments to it. Other than that, there are few things of any note in this area. To the east appear to be some variation on residences, while to the west appears the palace of the great monarch Sythissal. A couple of sharks flit by as well, guided by war chiefs and headed to feed somewhere undoubtedly.
This is the equivalent of an undersea plain, with basically nothing around on this flat part of the surface of the floor of the sea. All around the clear waters pressure everything, forcing it almost down to the sea floor. Only the sharks and sahuagin here seem not to have a problem with it, flitting about as if everything were in order. To the west in the distance appears a rather large structure, while to the east and southeast look to be a row of residences. A strange vibration thrums through the water, though what it is cannot be told.
This is a rather empty section of the city of the sahuagin, with little to mar the floor of the ocean. The water pressure is rather light here, although the water itself tingles with some sort of vibration that cannot be placed. To the east of here appear to be some sort of dwellings, while in the distance to the west is a large structure, possibly a palace of some sort. A couple of sharks and squid shoot past, ignoring everything while obeying the commands of their undersea brethren riding their backs.
This region of the ocean floor is rather featureless, running alongside the bottom of a sheer cliff rising hundreds of feet. There appears to be little of note here, at least as far as any signs of the sahuagin city go, although there are a couple of small caves carved into that rockface, from which sharks enter and exit every once in a while. To the north of here are several buildings, probably the main part of the sahuagin. Travel is also possible towards the west.
A couple of low, blocky structures mark this portion of the sahuagin city of Kresillacc, lying in a row along the cliff that blocks travel to the south and west. Every once in a while, one of the fish-men swims past and into one of the buildings, only to be replaced by another swimming out the backside. The water pressure is rather light here, although something moves through the water in a sense, causing it to throb like a heartbeat. To the north and east of here, the great undersea city continues.
The sea floor is rather empty here, although there is much activity about. In the center of this equivalent of an underwater plain, a number of sahuagin swarm about, going about their daily lives or some such nonsense. None of them pay any heed to their surroundings, as if it were something they see all the time and nothing ever is out of place. To the west of here looms a palatial structure, east of here are a number of buildings appearing to be residences of a sort, while to the north lies a small temple.
A number of sahuagin priestesses swarm around the wrecks of a couple of ships here, recently captured by the fish-people by the looks of it. Other than that, there is quite a bit to say about this region of the city. To the west of here rises the great palace of Sythissal, king of all the sahuagin, while to the north of here are a couple of small temples to various evil deities of the Forgotten Realms. To the east, it appears to be a residential district of some sort. A couple of shark-riding sahuagin flit past, on their way west into the palace itself.
This appears to be a rather abandoned district of the great undersea city, although a couple of sharks and squid do mill around in spots. For the most part however, there is little more here than the ocean floor and a lot of seaweed, which while unobtrusive simply seems to have no purpose here. The water pressure is a bit annoying, as if some presence was trying to drive one away. To the southwest lies the great palace of the sahuagin king, and to the north the temples of this town are visible.
This appears to be the eastern end of the temple region of the great undersea city of Kresillacc. Here lie shrines to Bane, Bhaal, and Myrkul, the gods of death, decay, and murder. While none of the immortals just listed have much of a following among the fish-men, their shrines are still beautifully decorated by plunder taken from the surface. To the north and east of here is a towering rockface, blocking progress in either direction. South of here lies a sort of residential district. The water itself pulses with some sort of rhythmic beat, as if some sort of song were being sent through it.
This is part of the temple ward of Kresillacc, consisting of a couple of shrines dedicated to the more favored of the sahuagin's deities: Talos the Raging One, and Tempus the Immortal Lord of War. A couple of priestesses are inside those marble buildings, doing whatever it is priestesses do on a regular basis. To the east this ward continues, with a couple of the scaly folk congregating there as well. To the southwest of here rises a domed structure of sorts, while to the southeast lies the rest of this undersea realm.
A set of marble stairs lead up into the impressive structure of the grand palace of the sahuagin city here, that building lying just to the south of here. For the most part, this area of the city is empty, although a couple of shark riding soldiers swirl about, keeping an eye on things. The water pressure is starting to get rather intense here, bearing down on one. The water also seems to thrum with some sort of pulse, as if the sahuagin were using it to send some sort of message. To the east of here lies the rest of the city.
Marble stairs lead upwards to the west from here, into the palatial dwelling of King Sythissal, long the ruler of the sahuagin. The waters here are rather thick, and press on one heavily, and they also throb with some sort of beat or calling that only the denizens of this realm understand. The palace continues to the west, while the city itself is to the east. A pair of sharks whip past, one chasing the other on some merry errand or something.
This appears to be the southwestern corner of the great undersea city of the scaly sahuagin, also known as the Claws of the Deep to experienced sailors. All around are large numbers of the undersea folk, some riding sharks and squids, but most of them simply swimming through the heavy water. To the north of here lies the entranceway to the dwelling of the sahuagin chieftain, a large palace well decorated with the plunder of years of raiding. To the east of here lies most of the sahuagin city, and that's where many of the fishermen head now.
This is the hallway within the great castle of Sythissal, monarch to all the sahuagin for a very long time. Most of the hallway is made of flawless marble, as if set here by some dark god, since it's obvious the fish-people do not have the skills to build this. The hall is also well-decorated, mostly plunder from the raids that the sahuagin launch against the surface. Niches line each side of this place, perfect for an ambush of sorts. To the west is the throne room of this place, while to the east leads outwards into the city.
This is the main throne room of the kingdom of the sahuagin, looking rather abandoned right now. A monstrous chair, taken obviously from some Northman vessel by its looks, is situated in the center of the room, but lies empty. All around lies some of the bounty of years of raiding by the sahuagin, rather unobserved given the lack of life here. To the east of here lies a broad hall of sorts, while to the west lies a dome, only halfway submerged in water, which is quite an anomaly for this realm.
This is an air filled dome lying at the rear and above the palace of the sahuagin. To the east of here, and submerged a bit underwater is the palace itself, and beyond it the city of the fish-men is visible. Most of this area is empty and undecorated, but in one section of the dome sits an enormous specimen of a sahuagin, well decorated in treasure and weaponry. This can only be Sythissal, king of the deep!
This is a bend in the cavern wall of this undersea city, containing its expansion to the west and south. Most of this area is rather empty, save for a couple of blocky buildings carved out of the living stone of the ocean floor. Some of the powerful scrag swim through, scanning the area for intruders as if this were the perimeter of an armed camp. At second look, this just might be, as shark sentries join them. The sea troll city is to the northeast of here.
A small crevasse splits the rockface surrounding this city of the sea trolls, leading south into open seas beyond. In every other direction, however, the dwellings of those bestial creatures lie, mostly carved out of rock formations in a rather haphazard format. In fact, the entire place almost has the look of some sort of armed camp, despite the feel of permanence along the sea floor. To the north of here is where most of that city lies, and in fact a number of the humanoids congregate there.
A number of caves have been hollowed out of the cliffs bordering the city of the sea trolls here, appearing to contain such sundries as foodstuffs and weaponry. They are lightly guarded, but appear to be of little use to any wayfarer who might find himself or herself here however. Northwest of here, along the open stretches of the sea floor, lies an encampment of sea trolls, bustling with activity as large numbers of the humanoids and their shark and squid companions shuffle about. Other than that, there is little noticeable about this whole area.
This appears to be the eastern fringe of the sea troll community, if it can even be called that and not some sort of military encampment. For the most part, this section of the sea floor is rather bare outside of a couple of shards of rubble and some seaweed, although a couple of sentries do swim about, with an accompaniment of sharks for backup and messengers. To the west of here is where most of the activity appears to be, as well as most of the humanoids.
This is the cavern wall along the eastern edge of the sea troll dwellings at Kyrasti, though it doesn't look like much of a city from here. For the most part, this region of the undersea is deserted, and a bit overgrown with weeds and the like, though it's still moderately patrolled by the forces of Krell-Bane and his minions. To the west appear to be a number of buildings, all in front of a rather large building nestled in the rotting skeleton of a blue whale. A couple of sharks shoot by, chasing each other about the area.
A couple of barracks like structures are carved out of the rocks lining the ocean floor here, with a number of sea trolls visible in all of them, though they seem to be ignoring just about everything about. This appears to be near the center of the city of Kyrasti in fact, although given its look it really cannot be called a city in the least. A number of the large, lanky humanoids swim about, in carefully organized squads of sorts, and some of them accompanied by sharks or squids. To the north of here lies part of a giant skeleton of a blue whale or other mammal, and seems to have some significance in its own way.
A number of small buildings carved from lumps of rock or coral dot the floor of the ocean here, almost seeming like barracks of a sort the way they are set up. Most of these buildings are empty, however, the scrag occupants gathering over to the west some in a large clump around a leader figure. Other than this, there is little to note about the area. A distance to the north lies the skeleton of some giant sea creature, hollowed out and appearing to be a palace of some sort now.
This is an open area in the middle of the sea troll settlement of Kyrasti. A couple hundred feet above, a large gathering of the scaly humanoids is taking place, with a number swarmed around a leader as if he were planning a raid. All about are a large number of barracks like buildings, almost giving Kyrasti the appearance of some sort of military encampment. To the east and west the seabed extends a large distance, while to the north lies the skeleton of a blue whale, hollowed out and seemingly important nowadays.
A couple of small buildings dot this part of the ocean floor, though they lie very much unused at the moment. From here, most of the sea troll city can be seen, spreading out in a concentric pattern like campfires at a gathering of an army or two. Very few scrags are in sight, though they seem to have left a fair number of sharks to guard the region. To the north lies the great palace of the trollish leader Krell-bane, but that is the only obvious landmark around here.
A couple of blocky buildings carved from lumps of stone sit squarely along the ocean floor here, built in neat parallel rows and each containing the bare necessities for a couple of sea trolls to live in. Those sea trolls are most likely in the large gathering well above and to the southeast, leaving the city of Kyrasti largely abandoned right now. Most of this place looks like an armed camp of sorts, although nearby looks to be a small nursery of sorts, nestled along the cavern wall to the west. To the northeast lies the palace of the great leader Krell-bane, lord of all sea trolls.
This is a sloping section of the sea floor, heading downwards towards the north and east of here and the center of Kyrasti. Most of this place is rather bare of buildings and improvements and the like, allowing seaweed and such to clump in large amounts. To the west of here lies a towering cliff, and some small buildings are nestled there. To the east appears to be a number of houses or whatever passes for them in this sea troll town. Well above this spot, a meeting of sorts of the scrags is taking place, a leader almost looking to be planning a raid or war of some sort, given the large number of warriors that are surrounding him.
This is a region of Kyrasti very much remote from the rest of the town, with a number of blocky buildings lodged into the cavern walls that block any further progress to the south and west. The buildings have the looks of some sort of nursery, where the sea trolls too young to join the fighting legions of Krell-bane are brought up. Other than that, this end of town is mostly deserted while the sea trolls are off doing whatever sea trolls do. To the northeast lies the rest of this community, arranged concentrically around a central point like a military camp.
This is an empty section of the scrag city of Kyrasti, nestled into a cliff that blocks the city's expansion to the west and north. East of here lies the main regions of the town, looking like a military base the way barracks and other buildings are arranged. Most of the scrags circle high overhead to the east as well, arranged in companies of a sort. In the distance to the north and east of here lies the skeleton of some massive sea creature, long since picked clean and left to sit in the northern end of this city.
This appears to be a wide east and west avenue of sorts, running between a number of scrag residences near the entrance to the great palace of Krell-bane. That palace itself is little more than the touched up shell of a blue whale, now only a skeleton and harmless. To the south and east of here lie more and more buildings, making one wonder how immense the population of the humanoids are, and what sort of plans they have for the Sea of Moonshae. Right now, however, the area is deserted, save for a few sharks and squid idly swimming past.
This is the entrance to the great palace of Kyrasti, made up of little more than the skull of the great blue whale whose skeleton drifted here some time ago. This part is empty, however, like most of the northern end of the sea troll city, though where the humanoids went is unknown. To the east, south, and west of here is that town, made up of mostly small and blocky buildings, while to the north the palace continues.
This is the eastern outside of the great palace of the leader of the sea trolls, though it's also a rather empty portion of the settlement of Kyrasti. Most of the town lies to the south of here, arranged in rows and circles of a sort, like some parody of a military camp. Large numbers of humanoids circle overhead with a lesser number of sharks, moving and counter swimming in small and medium sized companies around their leaders it would appear. Other than that, there is little to distinguish this spot.
This is the central portion of the great palace of Krell-Bane, nestled inside the skeleton of the great Leviathan that once roamed the Trackless Sea. Now it is just an empty shell, abandoned right now as none of the humanoids who lay claim to this region of the undersea are around. From what one can see, many are circling overhead, preparing for a raid or war of some sort. To the north and south, this castle continues, wandering the insides of this once proud creature.
This is the rear of the great palace of Krell-bane, looking mostly like a throne room right now. Despite this, there are few signs of any royalty around here. For one, there are no guards one would associate with such a place, and the place has no decorations at all, not even a simple chair for the leader to sit on (if he's present). To the south of here, the palace continues, running through some of the ribs of the great Leviathan that serves as its shell. To the north look to be a couple of air-filled prison cells.
This is an air-filled cell, looking like a prison cell from its dirtiness and disuse. Not a heck of a lot is visible here. Down a bit and to the south is the skeleton shell of a great sea creature, long since passed away and resting along the ocean floor. It has the looks of the water filled palace of the sea trolls. Other than that, little can be seen from here, as monolithic stone walls block travel and sight in every other direction.
This region of the ocean floor would almost be considered a coastal flat or simply plains land were it not five hundred feet below the surface. Much of this part of the merman territory is empty, although a couple of small buildings are scattered here and there. To the west and north of here are towering walls, though not enough to prevent one from swimming over them. Instead, they are simply a symbolic sign of the borders of this place.
A narrow but deep gorge runs along this portion of the sea floor, even at one point piercing the outer wall serving as the perimeter of Deepvale. Other than that, there is little to notice about this region of the sea floor. Seaweed and other various plants dot the area here and there, but are not obtrusive in any way. To the east and south lies the majority of the city of the merfolk, although some perimeter guards seem to be swimming this way to inspect or perform some other such duty.
This is the western border of the territory belonging to and claimed by the merfolk of the undersea of the Moonshae Islands. Most of the sea floor is rather empty here, with only a couple of buildings lying on the floor. Those buildings have all the looks of guard posts and barracks, but are presently in disuse. To the east of here lies the main section of the city of Deepvale, a hodgepodge of buildings, small domes, and a whirlwind of activity.
This is the southwest corner of the merfolk town, a rather barren and lonely stretch of the sea floor. Five hundred feet above of here is the surface of the Trackless Sea, meaning all of that water presses down upon one. To the east and also the north of here lies the city of the mermen, a rather innocent looking region outside of the multitudes of the humanoids swimming all about there. To the east of here appears to be a small ivory, marble, and coral palace of sorts.
This appears to be a small residential district of the town of Deepvale. All about here lie small buildings, carved from lumps of stone or coral from the floor of the ocean. Narrow but frequent avenues cut through the chaos of merman architecture, also lending some order to how the merfolk should move about, though many swim well above, flitting about every which way. To the east and north of here lies the main portion of the undersea city, southeast of here is the palace of the king.
This is a small residential district of the undersea city of Deepvale. The residences and such of various merfolk are scattered in an almost random pattern, clumped in groups or simply off on their own. To the east and south of here lies the main sections of the city, while to the north is a smaller district of sorts that isn't quite housing for the humanoids. In the distance to the southeast lies the palace of the ruler of this fair town.
This is the northern fringe of the residential districts of the merfolk city, as usual the buildings simply randomly distributed across the ocean floor. Some of these buildings are carved from various leavings of rock, while lumps of coral seem to be the material of choice for others. To the east and south lies the residential areas of this city, while west of here appears to be a picket line of the humanoids. In the distance through the slightly murky waters to the southeast rises an imposing palace, probably home of the Crown Prince.
A number of brightly clad and well armed merfolk streak through this region of deep waters, heading for the perimeter of the city of Deepvale as if they expected a forthcoming fight. This area of Deepvale itself is open land, though a few shrines to various immortals of lawful and good alignment exist here. To the east and south lies the city itself, a chaotic mess of buildings arranged almost as if a child kicked over a pile of blocks. There are few other things that can be noted about this region.
This is the northern edge of Deepvale, this being a region of empty ocean flats lying five to six hundred feet below the surface of the Trackless Sea. This region of the merfolk city is also abandoned, except for a couple of the humanoids swimming as guards with two pair of dolphins serving as escort. To the south of here lies a jumble of assorted buildings making up the districts of Deepvale. Beyond that, a palatial dome rises, though its significance cannot be told from this distance.
This is the outer rim of the merfolk undersea city of the Moonshae Islands, looking like little more than abandoned sea floor here. To the south and also a bit to the west of here lies a large clump of buildings almost carelessly strewn across a small distance. A couple of merfolk start swimming this way, as if they've seen something, but one cannot tell with those humanoids.
A small crevasse runs along the sea floor here, though it seems to be no danger, nor does anything live in it from the scant light available here. To the south and west of here lie a large number of small buildings, most likely the merfolk community of Deepvale. Further beyond that looms a large palace, probably the home of Crown Prince Maquillor, who rules the merfolk in all but name these days with the impending death of his father. This region of the city is somehow unpatrolled, as if nothing will threaten here, or the threat here is too obvious to spend the effort to check it out.
A number of small and blocky buildings occupy this section of the merfolk settlement of Deepvale, but are surprisingly abandoned right now. In fact, a quick glance inside one of them indicates it suffers from long disuse, which would seem rather unusual for such a society. A small cadre of merfolk swim about with their dolphin escorts, running a cursory check on this portion of town. The buildings continue in a haphazard sprawl to the south and west, which also happens to be the direction in which a large marble dome rises as well.
This is a clump of merfolk residences, all painstakingly carved as to blend into the sea floor, probably in case of an invasion by some of the merfolk's rather hostile neighbors: the sahuagin and the scrags. Despite this, a large number of the finned humanoids swim about, taking care of daily business and paying any outsider no heed. To the west of here this district continues, and somewhat to the north and south as well. East of here lies only a picket line of sorts, where a number of well armed merman warriors stand watch for some enemy that may or may not be coming.
This is a rather empty section of the sea floor, although the few occupied buildings and the large numbers of merfolk swimming about indicate that this is probably the edge of the city of Deepvale. That city of the merfolk lies to the west and north of here, a large number of small buildings nestled in groups along the sea floor and almost unnoticeable in the near darkness. A couple of warriors flit by along a patrol route, accompanied by what might only be able to be called war dolphins given the armaments and armor. To the south of here lies the entrance to a palace.
This appears to be the outskirts of Deepvale, with little but the lonely stretches of the ocean floor in many directions from here. Only to the south and west does there appear to be any signs of civilization, with a large number of deceptively hidden buildings chaotically thrown across a mid-sized region. A number of merfolk like creatures flit about through that area, going about their daily business and probably expecting guards like the couple posted here to keep them safe from any intrusions.
This is the perimeter of the great palace of Maquillor, ruler of the merfolk in these days when his father has fallen ill. A large, monolithic structure of coral, stone, ivory, and marble rises to the west and south of here, imposing when compared to the small rubble like buildings to the northwest. A couple of heavily armed guards stand here, but pay outsiders no heed, assuming that the sentry guards of this town have permitted their entrance for good reason.
This is the main hallway of the great palace of Deepvale, rather impressive looking from the inside as it was from the outside. Little can be seen from here, given the presence of walls and the like, but what is here looks sturdy and well built, and deceptively strong like many of the merfolk themselves. To the north and beyond the outer stretches of the palace rises the city of these humanoids, although only this palace would make one think those piles of rubble are residences and such of the humanoids.
This is the southern fringe of the city of Deepvale, wandering almost up to the skirts of the great palace of Maquillor itself. The few buildings that are here appear to be barracks and shrines, rather than genuine residences for any who work around here and as such prefer to be close to their residences. A cadre of stern merfolk wander this region, keeping all in order and watching the outside waters for their eternal enemies who might attack at any time. The palace itself continues to both the south and east.
This appears to be the western wing of the great palace of Deepvale, a rather terrific construction of marble and coral, particularly given the pressures that the merfolk face on a daily basis. Even now, a disproportionate number of the humanoids who are here look to be heavily armed, possibly expecting some attack on their monarch who lounges a short distance to the east when he's around. To the north of here parts of the city itself are visible, deceptively blending into the floor of the sea. A pair of dolphins whisk past, their riders guiding them through some sort of sentry patrol.
This appears to be the throne room of Maquillor, an air filled room unlike the rest of the great merfolk city over which he presides. To the west and north of here immediately lies the decorated palace of these humanoids, and beyond that the city itself. A large number of guards stand here, as well as a full complement of battle dolphins, all guarding some shadowed recess in the corner where something important must lie. A muttered chanting echoes from that portion of this room as well.
(rooms and mobs complete)
Trademark Black Beanbag, inscribed with the word Dalamar in gold letters Fireplace, complete with fire and crackling logs Sofa and blankets, with comfortable pillows (fill in the rest yourself) ;)