Landmarks

On the way to the mountain, you must pass through the village. It has a thriving trade, and the people seem healthy enough, but you notice a strange silence. Why do the people not talk more?

The blood is binding. The blood is time. The blood is sacred. From Her grace, we flow.

The capital city is the largest for miles around. At its center lies a fountain designed by a famous artisan. It is known for producing high quality garments and wines.

Old sailors speak of a lighthouse that changes location. A few of them say it's a trap. A few others say you can find your fortune. Look for the dim, greenish light that seems to sway near the coast.

The spire stands 200 feet high. At the top, you can make out an archway. The chains that hold it against the canyon wall are far too big to have been wrought by mortal hands.

The temple is full of traps, terrors, and treasures. A few adventures have managed to peek inside and escape. They always talk about the shifting vines that cover every surface.

The nasty, brutish thing that dwells in these caves is best left alone. The bones of its victims litter the ground, half frozen into the ice.

The shrine is easy enough to find. Many pilgrims make their way through here. It has a secret that someone with the lore can relate. The shrine sits upon the back of a hidden guardian.

The pit appears as a blight on the landscape in the middle of nowhere. It's many miles from any sort of settlement. And yet, year after year, about a dozen people fall inside of it. How is this possible, when it should be so easy to stay away?