Setting:Unified Setting/Londerfell
Part of the Unified Setting for /tg/
The elven homelands. A realm of magic, mystery and contradiction. Similar races that deny any brotherhood; one confidentally striding across the world, the other withdrawn and nursing ancient grudges. A jungle of madness, filled with riches and death, inexplicably flourishing in a northern climate. Home of the drow, a worldwide synonym for boogeyman and nightmare who just want to do business. Home of the elves, a long-lived race of perfected beings who got their asses handed to them by upstart savages with spears. A realm of politics, puzzles, enigmas and the world's deadliest wilderness adventure.
Geography
East of Vilous and north of Everoc, Londerfell is a collection of large and small islands. They are chill, rocky places dotted with hot springs and occasional volcanoes and extremely fertile soil which bloom furiously during the spring and summer. Vanawil, home of the elves, is unusually lush as it is warmed by the Great Ebentis Current and has been gardened for centuries by obsessive perfectionists. Zirnitraog, home of the drow, is a colder place, though the southern latitudes are warm enough to support a thriving settlement of visiting Toltecal throughout the year. Heloraen Vosilea, better known as the Water Forest, defies all explanations.
Vanawil
Homeland of the elves, a race that takes second-place only to doobies in reminding others how awesome they are. They are the longest-lived people (since the extinction of the draconians) and can live up to 300 years. That gives them a lot of time to practice and even their detractors admit they can be very, very good at what they do.
Encouraging this is their government, which while opaque to outsiders can be described as Roman Empire-esque. Every citizen is expected to improve themselves and perfect their skills in order to create a stronger state. Naturally prone to obsession the elves undertake self-improvement with a vengeance. Elves who devote themselves to a field can create works of awesome beauty. Even dwarves will grudgingly admit that the product of an elf craftsman is adequate. Other races will pay any price to obtain such a work, though whether it is worth it is a matter of much debate.
Visitors to Vanawil speak with hushed tones of the elven homeland. Modifying both nature and their own race to live in harmony they have few cities, but those are filled with works of breathtaking beauty and dedication. The ethos that if something is worth doing it is worth doing to perfection infuses all of eleven culture, including the art of killing. Stories of invincible elven swordsmen are common and even pros treat a trained elven soldier with caution. However their reputation has been dimmed of late.
Vanawil was one of the main nations threatened by the sergal expansion under General Rain. Their forces were one of the first to take to the field to contain what had once been scattered tribes, little better than gnolls. While winning several victories against terrible odds, the Vanawil forces found themselves outmaneuvered. General Rain forced several decisive engagements that left Vanawl reeling and exposed, forcing them to sue for peace. Focused on her southern front, Rain let the elves off easy, asking only for a non-aggression pact. Vanawil signed, despite the humiliation of being forced to use the name "Bay of Rain" in all copies of the treaty and the consumption of their ambassador.
The non-aggression pact with the Sergals remains intact and is renewed regularly, though both sides of the border have been increasingly militarized. Vanawil also faces pressure from Zirnitraog to their east, who regularly set up illegal mining or logging operations on islands belonging to Vanawil. The drow are unrepentant, claiming navigational error or the actions of a rogue house. The elves are even facing pressure from the normally isolationist dwarf fortresses of Everoc. Many of the older fortresses have tapped out existing resources and are loathe to dig deeper, citing vague dangers. They are looking for places to expand and neighboring Vanawil is tops on their list. So far this pressure consists of dwarven visitors loudly commenting "Got a lot of magma here do you? A dwarf could do a lot with that." but the elves feel the insult of a veiled threat.
But then again, elves are seemingly insulted by everybody. As the longest-lived race, with the oldest continuous civilization they hold grudges far beyond what anyone else would consider reasonable. Their antagonism with dwarves can be traced to a short shipment of barrel hoops and nails from six centuries ago. Most races ignore their general butt-hurt at the world and chalk it up to elvish temperament. The only race that returns the hostility are the goblins who insist the elves can confirm their ridiculous, self-aggrandizing legends but refuse to do so because of some moral failing in the distant past.
Vanawill citizens seldom have to deal with outsiders though. Instead they spend their time perfecting their garden homeland. Undisputed masters of life magic (since the passing of the draconians) they frequently modify wildlife to be more intelligent, docile and useful to better suit their needs. Making such experiments easier is the nearby presence of the Water Forest, which provides a convenient dumping ground for failed efforts.
Their reputation also brings hundreds of pilgrims every year, seeking treatment for disease or injury that can't be cured anywhere else.
If elves aren't currently using magic to improve their own offspring, they certainly did in the past. Suggesting this is a good way of getting an elf angry, as is using the name Bay of Rain, mentioning how the sergals kicked their ass or how they still aren't equal to the draconians.
Zirnitraog
Homeland of the Wila, the Wila Republic, the Great Houses, the Lesser Houses, the city-states controlled by those houses, barbaric northern tribes given House status lest they launch raids, wandering herds of feral remorhaz... let's face it. There's a lot going on in Zirnitraog.
Every child on the planet knows about Zirnitraog. It is where the Wila will take you if you don't eat your vegetables and do your chores. Centuries ago the Wila are CIVILIZED. They have cities (quite impressive ones) and laws and contracts and an expanding mercantile empire. But rule number one of drow culture hasn't changed. If you aren't hustling, you are being hustled and Wila hate to be on the bad end of a deal.
Zirnitraog has changed dramatically over the centuries. Formerly a collection of tribes raiding each other for slaves when they weren't on an overseas warpath, they have evolved into a collection of city-states, ruled by battling Houses in parliament. The sight of a drow ship now brings people to the docks, eager to trade, though wary of being cheated. Furs, axes and blood-oaths have been replaced with farms, factories and law-firms.
Except for the north. There Wila still cling to the old ways. Not so much with the raiding (though piracy remains a problem) but with the refusal to settle down. In the north drow axe-men still stalk the plains, riding their remorhaz while they hunt elk, reindeer and other game. Considered an embarrassment by the more prosperous and numerous southern Wila, they are given a seat in parliament to keep them placated.
The remorhaz are a bit of an enigma. Dual-exoskeletoned, exothermic riding beasts sporting enormous claws and leaving a trail of steam wherever they go, their origins are uncertain. Some say they are tamed escapees from the Water Forest and others that they are payment from Vanawil for some long forgotten debt. Most people don't think about it. Remorhaz are an excellent and stylish way to ride, as long as you have an asbestos saddle. Those shells get hot.
Heloraen Vosilea (The Water Forest)
Better known as the Water Forest, Heloraen Vosilea is truly one of the great wonders of the world.
At a latitude where one would expect to find scrub pine or wasteland there is instead a jungle. One that stretches for hundreds of miles, a vast interconnected grove of mangroves and other plants, filled with bubbling hot springs, mud pits and smoldering volcanoes. Somehow the ecosystem traps and recycles every erg of energy, creating an almost obscene riot of growth and foliage.
The Water Forest would be the number one top tourist attraction in the world, except that to enter it is to surrender yourself to madness and death. The Water Forest is filled with toxins, poisons, hallucinogens, noxious fumes bubbling up from the earth, deadly fauna and even-more deadly flora. It has persisted for thousands of years, with every species locked in a tight evolutionary race for supremacy. In this literally hot-house environment the inhabitants have developed talents unseen anywhere else in the natural world. Only the cautious and careful can survive where the water can be filled with LSD, which many plants use to ward off insects.
Inhabitants of Heloraen Vosilea include insanity, death, dryadic tree-spirits with mescaline blood, giant water striders, other insect predators too horrible to mention, snake-like creatures called nagas that are actually ambulatory fungi who prey via seduction, crazed adventurers from lost expeditions, shrieking eels, dumped Vanawil experiments in creating the perfect predator and just about every other nightmare you've had.
Naturally such a horrible place contains vast riches. Magicians, alchemists, gourmands, scientists, drug-dealers, and a host of others will pay vast sums to whoever will brave the Water Forest and bring back useful specimens. Vanawil's northern cities have a cottage industry hosting the daring adventurers who brave this jungle. While many never return, those that do are well rewarded for their bravery, ensuring a steady supply of customers buying 10' poles and 50' of rope.
Scientists (still a novelty in the Unified Setting) have studied Heloraen Vosilea for years now and have a problem. According to their math, there is no way there is enough energy to support the ecosystem. Their conclusion is that their is a vast magical power-source somewhere at the center of the jungle. Whether it is a lost draconian city, a creation of the gods or something else, the Water Forest must be tapping its power. Volcanic ash settling over Zirnitraog seem to confirm the theory as it has a tendency to mutate animals into killing machines. Several expeditions have been sent to test this theory and gain the riches if it turns out to be true. None have returned.
Adventure Seeds
- The Water Forest- Go in there. Get stuff. Try not to get killed.
- Mr. Johnson is a Drow?- Zirnitraog culture can be thought of as a gigantic chess game, and the first rule of chess is never to let your opponent see your pieces. The adventurers, being outsiders, are perfect for a sweet, easy job with no complications while they are in port.
- Mr. Johnson was a Drow!- Ooops. Something went bad and now according to the contract you have been sold into debt-slavery for a period of no less than five years with release contingent upon a sufficient return on investment, minus room and board. Time to escape and make your way north. Dodge bounty hunters and Giant Snow Lobsters until you make it to a northern port where you might find a ship to take you home.
- Buy me that!- Players are hired to obtain a priceless elven artifact from a master craftsman by a rich patron. Unfortunately the crusty bastard refuses to part with his work unless the players perform a quick service. Elven politics ensue.
- Just a quick border crossing- Vanawil needs intelligence about the Sergals, but all elves are suspect. The players on the other hand are perfect for a quick recon mission. How hard can it be?
- Perfection- The best crafts require the best materials. Go all over the place at the behest of some cranky old expert to get a desperately needed discount.
Other Stuff
- Lyndwin is an alternate name for the elven homeworld in the fluff. I'm going with the map name. Make Lyndwin the capital city instead?