Eryndal Heights
The Eryndal Heights rise like jagged spears against the northern sky, their ridges veiled in cloud and storm. Treacherous passes split the mountains, and sudden avalanches or rockfalls can end a journey without warning. Yet in this harsh land there is life: stubborn settlements cling to sheltered valleys, miners cut into the stone in search of ore, and hardy traders brave the high roads to link one side of the realm to another.
The mountains hold dangers beyond wind and weather. Predators stalk the crags, winged beasts circle the peaks, and more than one caravan has vanished without trace. Some speak of spirits in the snow, others of shadows that move between the rocks. Still, the Heights remain a place of passage, for those willing to risk their lives for ore, trade, or knowledge.
Beneath these towering ridges lies Veythar, a sprawling underrealm said to stretch for leagues in every direction. Its existence is no longer dismissed as mere legend: on rare occasions the Nythrae, a shadowed branch of the Sylthae, emerge to barter metals and strange goods from the depths. A few among them have proven unexpectedly candid, hinting at vast subterranean cities and unseen peoples who share their dark halls. But no outsider—whom the Nythrae call the Deynar—is permitted to enter. Those who trespass are never seen again.
Thus the Eryndal Heights stand as a realm of dual perils: the storms and beasts of the open peaks, and the silent watchers in the stone below. The Eryndal Heights rise like jagged spears against the northern sky, their ridges veiled in cloud and storm. Treacherous passes split the mountains, and sudden avalanches or rockfalls can end a journey without warning. Yet in this harsh land there is life: stubborn settlements cling to sheltered valleys, miners cut into the stone in search of ore, and hardy traders brave the high roads to link one side of the realm to another.
The mountains hold dangers beyond wind and weather. Predators stalk the crags, winged beasts circle the peaks, and more than one caravan has vanished without trace. Some speak of spirits in the snow, others of shadows that move between the rocks. Still, the Heights remain a place of passage, for those willing to risk their lives for ore, trade, or knowledge.
Beneath these towering ridges lies Veythar, a sprawling underrealm said to stretch for leagues in every direction. Its existence is no longer dismissed as mere legend: on rare occasions the Nythrae, a shadowed branch of the Sylthae, emerge to barter metals and strange goods from the depths. A few among them have proven unexpectedly candid, hinting at vast subterranean cities and unseen peoples who share their dark halls. But no outsider—whom the Nythrae call the Deynar—is permitted to enter. Those who trespass are never seen again.
Thus the Eryndal Heights stand as a realm of dual perils: the storms and beasts of the open peaks, and the silent watchers in the stone below. Those who cross the Eryndal Heights carry the weight of storm above and silence below, never certain which will claim them first.
Nythrae
Deep beneath the Eryndal Heights, the Nythrae carve their lives in the vast underrealm they call Veythar. Outsiders — whom they name the Deynar — are forbidden there, and trespass is met with swift death. A people of shadow and stone, they are warriors and assassins who care little for the world above, their true struggles bound within the depths.
Stone golems
Born from the bones of Eryndal itself, the Stone Golems rise where cliff and cavern meet. Their hulking forms carry the weight of ages, slow to stir but unyielding once roused. Legends say they answer the call of the forest below, striding down from the heights when Thalorien is in peril — guardians of stone bound to the land they were shaped from.
Mountain mimkin
Hidden among the meadows and crags of Eryndal, the Mountain Mimkin take the form of flowers, moss, and stone. From the shy Pymblets to the solitary Bryndel and the grim Grumblestones, they are masters of disguise, living fragments of the mountains themselves.
Creatures shrouded in mystery
Amidst the jagged peaks and windswept passes, fleeting signs are etched into snow and stone—strange tracks that vanish with the storm, echoes that linger long after silence has returned. Scholars and wanderers alike speak of beings that dwell unseen among the cliffs, but their true forms remain undiscovered. But who knows what is yet to be uncovered?