Eledryll

Countless hours, unending work, the hushed sound of thousands of footsteps amidst the wooden halls. You can barely imagine the true value that holds the Corridor of Many Records.

The hammers fell rythmically on the hot anvils' surface. Metallic clings echoing through the gargantuan chambers of the Arkynforge. Fire and steel, stone and crystal.

In the dim glow of the moon lit windows, you approach the table of the count. It was set for nine people. You wonder if the other guests will be as delightful as he is between his fits of feverish monologues.

The lighthouse on Blackreef was built on top of a harpy nest destroyed ages ago by adventurers of old. The place is surely a little decrepit and ominous, but it does its purpose well enough.

The ravine fell silent as you passed through the remnants of decrepit and long forgotten fortifications. Corrugated shields and plate armor litter the ground, their mission of protecting whoever carried them evidently failed.

You huddle together around the dancing flame wavering in the dark. As you try to cheer yourself up, you cannot but hear hostile murmurs behind the creeping fog, getting louder and louder still.

The frigid snow eats at your skin, gnawing and lashing at your face. You can barely press on the road by this winter. Alas you must keep on. Each hour you lose is an hour your enemies gain on you.

As you make your way through the cavernous gullet, you can hear acid dripping from the exposed stone above your head. Everything here can be lethal danger, from the caustic pools to the bottomless pits.

Today's session of the Council is of paramount importance, as a grave matter shall be discussed. For once, the ups and downs of trade, the needs of the aristocracy, the fleeting demands of faraway countries... will be glanced over.

The air is stiffling, charged with putrid fumes and the musty scent of sewage water. Dead animals and cast away litter flow alongside the narrow edge, washing away with everything this city has forgotten.

After weeks of trekking through swamps and fields, you reached a fork in the road. This countryside is definitely starting to get on your nerves, as you can't shake the feeling of being watch from behind the trees.

As you wearily progress down the hidden path, the forest thickens. The trees form an almost impenatrable rampart of bark and roots.

For centuries, it remained shut in the darkness of our mind, forgotten on purpose by our history and scholars. This great calcified ebony door leads to nowhere. Trust me.

The jungles conceal many secrets. Millenias of history hidden on broken tablets amidst the underbrush. Meters of frescos depicing the early days of civilisation. Sealed tombs honoring the heroes of old, the primordial dragons and their priests.

Crowning one of the highest peaks in the kingdom, the dwarves of house Thorbruk built their stronghold as the overseeing testimony to their power, seen by all who inhabits the mountain range, feared by all who refused to submit to their influence.

Glorious were these halls in their illustrious past, when they were filled with the rythm of the hammer and the stories of great battles. Now dark and cold, they seem to spread forever into oblivion, under the scornful gaze of the ancestors.

Relentless, the dwarven miners dug day and night, always opening new tunnels, deeper and deeper into the earth's entrails. From these cavities, they reaped a reward of gold, crystals, gems and silver... unknowing of the plague that was soon to fall.

Amidst the deeper part of the woods, pillars of stone and mossy walls timidly emerge through the foliage, cold remnants of a lost elven civilization. The elven seers worship the moon as their benevolent goddess without fear of the dark.

For several months now, dusk never set on this farm without sending shivers down the spine of the locals. The crops rustle in weird, rythmic patterns. The trees suddenly creak and moan all in unison. Malformed silhouettes shamble around in the fields

Deep in these ancient woods, forbidden to mankind by magic and spear, stands an antediluvian tree. It is a seat of great power, claimed by both the Seelie and Unseelie courts.