Bedwyr

Lensen looked behind him for a moment, back into the mist, knowing that somewhere behind that white abyss, something was watching. He thinks about what he has waiting for him at home, the people he loves, it comforts him for a moment, before the smell of copper lingers back to burn his senses. It's somewhere out there. Waiting. But, he returns to walking the path ahead, he knows worrying won't do anything to help him. He's been down the Broken Road before. On these trails, something is always watching.   The Isles of Bedwyr rest in the cold northern seas of the world it inhabits. This world however, is unknown to the folks of Bedwyr. Not far beyond the rocky shores of these islands, a leviathan stalks the water and prevents any travel, in or out.   Though Bedwyr is small, the culture of the peoples varies massively. Travel is incredibly dangerous, quite a few cultures grew in isolation. Though war does plague the continent occasionally, conflict normally comes from the Dark-Tide, a malovolent entity that endlessley spreads its corruption.