Aedavatn, a lush, green, sprawling world in the middle-west of the continent. that refuses to be tamed. Untold ages ago, before most recorded their history, it was a thriving, sprawling civilization of magic users. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, a catastrophic event occurred and tore the land to shreds until it was unrecognizable. Now there are only vague remnants of the people who lived there. Half-buried bits of cobblestone road, empty building foundations, remains of stone staircases that lead nowhere, abandoned scraps of furniture, and other ruins. Many immigrants live there now. Or try to, at least. The land is very difficult to settle on account of its myriad of sudden anomalies due to residual magic, and its seemingly unending supply of angry ghosts and walking skeletons. Aedavatn consists of three main regions:
The Rift
On the outskirts of this massive land are the rifts, large, stone mountains folding, overlapping, and, from a bird's eye view, forming a tiger-stripe pattern. Effectively, the Rift is the border of Aedavatn. It is a moderately chilly land of green meadows, blue rock, snowy peaks, and taiga forests. Its weather is often mild, and clouds on the outer sides of the mountains are more sparsely filtered. Rain, snow, and fog, which come heavily practically every other day, are often illuminated by the sun or the moon and met with somewhat clear skies, as the mountains are just tall enough to scrape the clouds into fine mist, rather than stop them altogether.
Particularly exotic wildlife live here, a product of the magic left behind by the tremendous event that created this place. It is commonplace for villages to be terrorized by bears the size of pick-up trucks as it is for wanderers to be granted good fortune or led to food and water by white stags covered in forgotten runes. Golems are a natural part of the ecosystem, as they form and crumble on their own. Villages are often welcoming, but paranoid and gated with walls as high and thick as they can muster (Most often with large boarded walls, or even entire tree trunks) as a safety measure against the anomalies of nature, enormous magical animals, (Most infamously, the highly territorial razorbacks in the woodlands, which have whip-like tails, lance-like tusks, and a penchant for spitting scalding water like dragon fire) the living dead and other common monsters, and the mad wizards that manage to obtain some level of control over these things.
The few large cities are often heavily fortified, often in valleys, with high castle walls protecting them and stretching from one of the steeper mountainsides to the other. At the top of the mountains, monasteries are a common sight, where natives and travelers alike enter every day seeking medical help, protection, revelations, or maybe just a fire-warmed place to listen to the tales of the Gods for an afternoon.
Groen
Beyond the rift is the huge, temperate deciduous forest of Groen, the land of a thousand rivers. Plants grow rapidly here, and nymphs, fairies, etc. are a common sight. It is also highly dangerous. Many plants are thorny, poisonous, or outright as dexterous and aggressive as the animals and monsters, which are even more common in these lands. Along the footpaths and cobblestone roads are countless hovels and hidey-holes for unsuspecting travelers who aren't equipped to face the elements of Groen any longer than in short bursts.
Groen is hardly populated by any civilized sentient life. If its entire population were to spread out evenly, every one of them would have 4 or 5 square kilometers to themselves... Granted, Groen is an
incredibly big place, and it wouldn't be unsafe to assume that at least 100,000 of Aedvatn's population of 2,000,000 live in the endless woods of Groen.
Monasteries are rare, and the ones that aren't abandoned are even rarer. The people that live here are often nomadic tribes of hardy, fearless folk with nerves of steel, who live hard lives in the forest. The only place the common snob would consider 'civilised' would be the massive white granite keeps and castles that jut out unnaturally from the hills and lake islands, far removed from the paths and trails cut through the forest by old explorers.
It is from these towers that the Paladins of the Groen Forest watch like hawks for the evil dragons, necromancers, and common bandits that are said to lurk in the woods, fighting them fiercely and protecting their holds vigilantly. The castles host remarkably self-sustaining towns for these zealous warriors, and rather than a palace or town hall, the center of their city holds a fortified temple to the High Old Gods of Light, Order, Life, Harmony, and Peace. Worshipers of gods whose goals and ideologies align with those of their own are welcome in for protection or recruitment, and religions of countless kinds are practiced in and out of the temple's walls. However, the Holds of the Old Ones are not inns, and there is little room for travelers. Those who accept the help of the Paladin Army accept minimal accomodations, and, if possible, a small escort to any nearby destination. Usually, that destination is somewhere on the way back to the Rift.
Stjarrstadr
At the center of that massive sea of a forest is the Sjarrstadr. Wisdom-seekers and pilgrims with brass balls (or ovaries, as the case may be) come to this enormous, snow and ash-filled crater to discover what secrets of the sunken Civilization may have been left by The Catastrophe. Little is known about the catastrophe itself, but legends older than books have been passed down by grandparents to grandchildren and sagas have been carved on standing stones throughout the world that describe the crater as "The place where the stars fell". Describing Aedavatn as a place that was once flat and low, and far smaller, with sprawling cities that glowed in the night. Then, one day, for reasons no one except perhaps the early Aedvatnians (who had all presumably died) understood, massive, blindingly bright, blue conflagrations fell like lightning from the sky and struck with such force that the earth stretched out the land to make room for the blast, scrunching up the land into hills, crevasses, rivers and mountains, stretching it out into broad valleys and flatlands.
Many smaller craters are scattered throughout this snowy moonscape, trees and lakes are common, but spread thinly, and in some places, small buildings from the old world are left inexplicably standing. Buried crypts and the underground portions of old barrows are sticking out and exposed. The place is sparsely populated by no more than three or four hundred scholars, the majority of which have gone blind over their time in the wastes. It is unknown whether it was due to the harsh sun and the bright snow, or from finding secrets about the old empire so truly magnificent (Or truly horrible) that their eyes couldn't fathom it.
