The Waning Shore

The magelight shone brightly over the valley, illuminating every inch of the battlefield as the two armies clashed. On one side, an extensively trained but woefully inexperienced rabble of human soldiers brandished glinting steel weapons. On the other, a horde of monstrous beast men used their claws and fangs to tear their way through the human forces.
Dain watched as three of his comrades pressed their shields together in an attempt to form a sturdy wall with which to press back the enemy, only for a single eight-foot tall, fur-covered beast to send them reeling to the ground with one mighty blow. The three men had only an instant to scream before the black and brown figure tore into them. In the frenzy, an arm was torn free from a torso and sent flying past Dain’s terrified face.
Before his instincts had a chance to tell him to run away from the massacre or attempt to help his allies, a shrill hissing came from his right. Dain spun around and saw a pack of smaller, reptilian humanoids weave their way between the bear-like beast men and armored soldiers. A few broke away from their formation, sinking their jagged teeth into the vulnerable necks and legs of distracted humans.
Two of them, though, seemed focused on Dain.
At the same time, the black and brown beast man finished its mid-battle meal and set its gaze on Dain as well. It forcefully pushed itself to its feet and began lumbering towards him, its face a blood-matted mess of fur, incisors, and a pair of boiling orange eyes. Dain’s armor rattled as his body shook. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to escape into the chaos around him, but the presence exerted by the rapidly approaching enemies was paralyzing.
High overhead, the magelight thrummed, sending a shockwave rippling downward toward the battlefield. The ground shook as the force collided with the beach, and even the towering beasts seemed dazed for a moment. A series piercing whistles echoed over the waters and sands as a hailstorm of light descended from the glowing orb suspended in the air. Streaks of white-hot radiance plummeted towards the shore, instantly incinerating dozens of beasts and lizards with divine fire and a cacophony of anguished wails.
The battle came to a halt as every combatant still capable looked up towards the artificial sun. In that moment, the only sounds were the lapping of the waves from the lake and the crackling of the last of the gleaming flames. A small black shape emerged from the pulsing surface of the magelight, gradually blocking out more of the blue-white glow as it drew closer to the beach.
As the object came into view, it transformed from a shapeless silhouette into a fair-haired man dressed in shimmering white robes. The shadow beneath him and the dark inner lining of the cloak draped across his shoulders glimmered with a thousand points of light, like windows into a perpetual night sky.
In one hand, the human mage gripped a long spear formed from pure starlight that stood even taller than himself. Its hue was identical to that of the magelight, and roils of pale mist trickled off of it, as though the weapon were trying to reach out to the onlooking soldiers.
The man’s image was pristine and brilliant, unmarred and unblemished, with the exception of one long trail of crimson that coursed down the lance from the body skewered on its bladed end. The corpse was burly, but the mage held it in place effortlessly.
His descent halted several feet above the heads of even the tallest of the beast men, and he surveyed the battlefield with a dignified presence. The last of the fires had dwindled to mere cinders, and now an absolute quiet fell across the beach as all eyes were transfixed on the hovering mage.
Without fanfare, the spellcaster flicked his wrist and flung the impaled body from his weapon onto a bare patch of blood-soaked sand, where it crumpled in a worthless heap. Notably, all of the fur and scale-covered fighters watched the corpse of their former champion plummet, while all of the humans continued to look upon their savior.
The moment stretched for what felt like an eternity. No one knew what to do now that the champions of the two armies had resolved their conflict. Then, the human mage turned in midair, setting his sights on the closest beast man.
His empty palm outstretched, the mage’s eyes flared with the same light that formed his weapon, and a small, shining blade erupted from his hand. It soared through the still air and embedded itself in the beast man’s throat, causing it to collapse with a single, pathetic gurgle.
The beach erupted. All at once, the human forces experienced a massive surge of morale, and the animalistic enemies scrambled to escape. The foe was no longer an unstoppable force of nature, but a herd of cattle to be routed. Prey to be hunted and slaughtered.

Geography

The Waning Shore is a large lake at the center of a deep valley. It is surrounded on all sides by steep mountainous surfaces, with a large, dense forest to the southwest.

Fauna & Flora

Before the Thaumacracy moved in and claimed the territory as its own, the Waning Shore was a no-man's-land inhabited by brutish and dangerous beast men. These beast men are covered in dark fur, resembling apes or bears. They do not speak a refined language, but they do show rather advanced intelligence, at least when it comes to martial instincts and combat tactics.

Type

Lake

Owning Organization

The Thaumacracy