Altanaeum

The geography of the Altanaeum is as vast and varied as the imagination of the skyfolk who traverse its expanse. Suspended high above the lands of Etoria, these floating territories are not mere islands in the clouds but a patchwork of ecosystems and wonders shaped by arcane forces. Each region reflects the influence of the winds and magic that sustain them, forming a unique blend of landscapes and cultures.
To the north, the air is sharp and cold, where massive glaciers of crystal-like ice drift among eternal storm clouds. These frozen leviathans, known as the Frost Flows, shimmer in Beowulf’s light and house intricate caverns where luminescent creatures thrive. Here, the people carve homes from ice and trade in rare frost gems, their lives bound to the unyielding currents that shape the region.
In the south, the warmth of Zabir breathes life into verdant cloud forests. These floating groves, tethered by thick vines to towering behemoths of skywood, are alive with color and sound. Lakes of liquid light ripple across their surfaces, fed by cascading falls of magic-infused mist. The skyfolk here embrace vibrant traditions, cultivating plants that bloom with firelike hues and harvesting nectar imbued with strange, invigorating properties.
To the east, Tomos’s domain is a place of constant motion, where winds carry fragments of land aloft in ever-shifting configurations. Known as the Whispering Spires, these jagged towers of stone are adorned with silken bridges spun by the tireless sky spiders. Villages cling precariously to these heights, their inhabitants adapting to the transient nature of their surroundings. This is a land of change, where nothing stays still for long, and opportunity lies in the winds.
The western reaches are more tranquil, shaped by the gentle influence of Samus. Rolling fields of soft, cloud-like terrain stretch endlessly, dotted with floating meadows and tranquil pools that reflect the golden glow of the setting sun. The peace of the region makes it a haven for those seeking solace, and many temples to the Nýfada rise from its silken mists, their spires reaching skyward in reverence.
Above it all drift the Goliamoth, gargantuan creatures whose backs support entire ecosystems. Some bear ancient towns carved into their hides, while others remain wild, their movements guided by unknown instincts. Beneath the layers of clouds, hidden chasms plunge into endless mists where no light reaches, rumored to house forgotten secrets and dangers untold.
The sky realms are not static; they breathe, shift, and adapt, their landscapes molded by the endless interplay of wind, magic, and time. They are a place of beauty and peril, where every cloud, cliff, and creature tells a story of a world unbound by gravity but deeply tied to the forces that govern its existence.