NOW LIVE! Today's the day you meet your new best friend. You don’t have to leave Wolfy behind... In 'Pets & Sidekicks' your companions level up with you!

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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Tutara" data-source="post: 8941039" data-attributes="member: 7035460">I got bored of dungeons, but quite liked the productivity of doing something every day so I have started fleshing out a potential setting - one region per week because I like broad strokes so players can fill in the details. This week, I have been mostly writing this:The Iron Duchy of SartorSartor is a coastal land of salt-blasted marsh and gorse, tempered by ambition, cunning and betrayal. Duke Ilya Kyragoth clawed his way to power over the bodies of countless rivals, carving a bloody swathe to the throne that he now jealously guards from all comers. Sartor’s agents slip into the courts of its neighbours, sowing dissent and destabilising governments, while hired mercenaries and catspaws raid the borderlands of its foes in the guise of brigands operating outside of the law. The only thing preventing all-out war with its neighbours is the Duke’s own paranoia – he views loyalty as such a weakness that he cannot imagine that others may view it as a virtue, and as such purges the ducal court with ferocious regularity.SettlementsFort Kyragoth: This great walled fortress-city is one of the most well defended settlements in Kildea - a maze of chokepoints and battlements designed to annihilate any invading army long before they are within a quarrel’s flight of the impregnable Iron Citadel. Despite the fortification, a sense of unease drifts through Sartor – ducal spies are everywhere, listening out for any of the myriad plots that the duke suspects his subjects of on any given day. The duke’s personal enforcers, the Knights of the Iron Sabre, are headquartered here.Salthaven: A sprawling coastal town lashed together from driftwood and boats, Salthaven’s inhabitants have a reputation as smugglers first, pirates second and fishers a distant third. Local authorities take a sizeable cut of any illicit cargo, and woe betide the smuggler who attempts to avoid paying the toll. Off the south coast lies an ancient lighthouse, built by the hands of a people now long dead. No living keeper has set foot there in centuries, but still its baleful light guides ships to safety through the knife-like straits of the Shattered Sea.Stonecrag: Slate-roofed hovels and dusty quarries make up this mining town, set in the sheer rocks of the northern uplands. It is from here that the grim grey stones that make up the walls of the duke’s forts are hewn, and it is here that the duchy’s prisoners labour until dead. A sizeable population of dwarves live here, delving ever deeper into the broken earth.Fenhold: Mouldering on the edge of Blightmire, Fenhold is slowly sinking into the surrounding murk. The people here are poor and insular, suspicious of strangers. Even the duke’s tax collectors try to avoid this place, and most travellers have no reason to come here and even fewer reasons to stay. Half-remembered traditions speak of the old gods that sleep beneath the marsh, and strange hymns are raised to these forgotten deities away from the prying ears of outsiders.LocationsThe Bleakwood: This hag-haunted northern forest borders the shadowy depths of the Schattenwald. Its greying trees seem to leach all colour from those who enter, and everything that spends an extended period of time here seems to crumble to monochrome dust.Blightmire: A salt fen that dominates the inland regions of Sartor, Blightmire is the domain of the drowned dead and monstrous bloodfiend mosquitoes that can drain a living creature of its fluids in moments. These terrible creatures lay vast quantities of eggs in the undead corpses of the giants that once lived here, creating horrific mobile hives that endlessly slog through the bitter black water.The Shattered Coast: Broken granite cliffs and grey sand dominate the gloomy southern shores of Sartor, extending out into the Shattered Sea from which this place takes its name. Roving crews of pirates and wreckers huddle in its windswept inlets, waiting for their next victims to happen by.</blockquote>

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