The Mavoi Archipegalo
Thank you SiilverDruid on reddit for this opportunity, all names and locations are of his design, this is my interpretation of his work.
The Mavoi Archipegalo was the last inhabited area of the world of Acrya, constantly at threat by the blight, a magical weapon from an age long past that had exterminated nearly the entire continent. It was the elves, living in the island of Az'Dalir who held up the barrier that kept the blight at bay. But after so many years the barrier had begun to fail and the dreaded sickness had begun to make its way into the Veerdoom peaks to the north and the city of Khirdor in the south.
Why now though? Why had the elves who had, for close to a thousand years kept the barrier from falling, start to fail. Unbeknownst to others races, the magic that was at the heart of the elves' power had begun to fail them. They worried that if their magic failed then the humans, with whom their relationship was civil but tense and magic was the only real thing stopping humans from encroaching onto their lands.
Humans had other issues to worry about however, as to the south of the empire, within the emerald bog, the tribes of orcs were creating a warband, something not seen within the last several centuries. Within the tribal village of Dewargre a warrior, said to have found a long lost relic from the same war that had created the blight and would wield it in any war's to come. They would try to attack the humans at Lakeford, close to the Capital but they'd have to pass the Emerald Bog, a massive swamp filled with all manner of creatures.
No one had heard of the dwarves within the Grimjaw mountains for nearly fifty years, the massive bronze gates of Boulderest had stayed shut, refusing any trade, both in or out. The city was still inhabited however, at night the volcano central to the mountain would glow bright, and the methodical sound of clang clang clang could be heard, almost like thunder.
There was however a single ray of hope within the Mavoi region. Just off the coast of the Budysk mountains, maybe half a day sailing to the west of the entire archipelago sat the crowning jewel of the region; the City with No Name. Perhaps a long time ago the city would've had a history and a name to call its own, though none now live who remember it. Within the city, the council ruled, made up of one of each of the races existing in this world, and together they held the peace. No weapons were allowed inside, as was enforced by the council's militia. Here each race who could reach it, could take a break from the social infighting and simply share a drink with anyone from anywhere. It was also the last stop for anyone attempting to escape the region, desperate to stay ahead of the blight
The Mavoi Archipegalo was the last inhabited area of the world of Acrya, constantly at threat by the blight, a magical weapon from an age long past that had exterminated nearly the entire continent. It was the elves, living in the island of Az'Dalir who held up the barrier that kept the blight at bay. But after so many years the barrier had begun to fail and the dreaded sickness had begun to make its way into the Veerdoom peaks to the north and the city of Khirdor in the south.
Why now though? Why had the elves who had, for close to a thousand years kept the barrier from falling, start to fail. Unbeknownst to others races, the magic that was at the heart of the elves' power had begun to fail them. They worried that if their magic failed then the humans, with whom their relationship was civil but tense and magic was the only real thing stopping humans from encroaching onto their lands.
Humans had other issues to worry about however, as to the south of the empire, within the emerald bog, the tribes of orcs were creating a warband, something not seen within the last several centuries. Within the tribal village of Dewargre a warrior, said to have found a long lost relic from the same war that had created the blight and would wield it in any war's to come. They would try to attack the humans at Lakeford, close to the Capital but they'd have to pass the Emerald Bog, a massive swamp filled with all manner of creatures.
No one had heard of the dwarves within the Grimjaw mountains for nearly fifty years, the massive bronze gates of Boulderest had stayed shut, refusing any trade, both in or out. The city was still inhabited however, at night the volcano central to the mountain would glow bright, and the methodical sound of clang clang clang could be heard, almost like thunder.
There was however a single ray of hope within the Mavoi region. Just off the coast of the Budysk mountains, maybe half a day sailing to the west of the entire archipelago sat the crowning jewel of the region; the City with No Name. Perhaps a long time ago the city would've had a history and a name to call its own, though none now live who remember it. Within the city, the council ruled, made up of one of each of the races existing in this world, and together they held the peace. No weapons were allowed inside, as was enforced by the council's militia. Here each race who could reach it, could take a break from the social infighting and simply share a drink with anyone from anywhere. It was also the last stop for anyone attempting to escape the region, desperate to stay ahead of the blight
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