Under the thrall of a crescent moon, the ocean whispered secrets only the brave or the foolish cared to listen. Kael and Maris, explorers of the undulating deep, hovered above a coral reef, the kind peppered across tales of old pirates and likened to underwater kingdoms. Infused with hues of macabre reds and ghostly blues, … Read more
At the edge of the Endworld’s map, where old parchment ceases to be reliable, and where cartographers shake their heads and sigh, is the Fire Mountain. It stands alone against a backdrop of eternal night, the sky only occasionally flickering in shades of stormy purple and somber orange. The locals call it Olk’Syr—roughly translating to … Read more
Once upon a time, as such tales invariably begin, the Birchwood was a place of whispered leaves and dappled sunlight, where sprites danced and foxes held court in their own sly way. It was a forest where shadows played at being solid and where the wind carried stories worth hearing. But then, as is often … Read more
In the forgotten creases of the world, where the map edges frayed into tendrils of mythical inadequacy, there lay ruins choked by the overzealous embrace of the jungle. Strangler figs, like tendrilous fingers, had peeled away the stones’ secrets, layer by layer, until all that remained were the bones of a civilization long gasped its … Read more
In the town of Aerie, perched precariously on the edge of the world’s end, the cliffs rose sheer, like the walls of a giant’s castle. The local folks had wings, not like those of birds, but delicate like a dragonfly’s, shimmering in a spectrum of colors whenever sunlight managed to steal through the perpetually moody … Read more
In the mysterious expanse of the Allworld, where biomes shift like the pages of an eldritch tome, there came a creeping malevolence. Referred to solely as the Blight–a viral darkness that sank into leaf, wing, and soil alike, distorting all it bathed. The verdant jungles turned ashen, marine depths stirred with twisted shoals, and the … Read more
In Ariadne’s village, if the air glittered like falling diamonds or smoke danced sideways, one knew the borders between realms were warping. That day, the sky didn’t simply shimmer; it pulsated with an urgency, swirling with violet and black End particles, signaling, perhaps, the throes of cosmic pain. Ariadne was twelve, with eyes like storm … Read more