Eleston, The Fallen Earth

The grizzled paladin takes a draught from a hip flask. He wears heavy plate armour padded with furs. The crescent moons etched into his breastplate and pauldrons are tarnished a deep blue. His head stays slightly bowed. He peers into the flask. Trying to spot something? Or trying to forget?   “Well as you know, these lands came to be known as The Fallen Earth.   Nobody knows how or why, but there was an eruption here long ago. Much of the land you see now: The impossible cliffs, the lakes of red, the wandering mountains of mist, it is not as this place used to be.   This Fallen Earth was once a border region known as Eleston, nestled between the The Brigadian Lands to the north, Valaer to the east, Sarrakau to the south-west, and the kingdoms now known as the Gorovichi Empire to the north-east. At its very center shone a wondrous jewel, the Free City of Tesragard. The people there took pride in their Wisenhart Academy, home to arcane savants from all walks of life. The grand bazaar, a bastion of trade between the surrounding powers. And of course the indomitable Castle Dorminveil, built atop the very rock where the god-queen El of old made her final stand against the royal spears of Sarrakau. El made it known to the entire continent that Eleston stood alone. Her word: ‘Outsiders will come to Eleston with an open heart, or on their knees.’   Ha, ancient history. But her prophecy was fulfilled in kind… no one dares provoke The Fallen Earth in its present state.   Many who survived the Rending left Eleston as soon as they could. The rest… well… They huddled around the flames as they burned away what was left, so to speak. You’ll find good folk, sure, but be wary. Something has happened… is happening to the people of this land. You can see it in the trees, in the animals, in dark corners and in the light of day alike. That is the true reason this land remains unmarked by the ambitions of local lords.   So. The Free City of Tesragard? Castle Dormveil? Wisenhart Academy? Alas, no one really knows their fate. The respectable traders, ink-stained scholars no longer come and go with reports. Now we are left with mere tales from “lone survivors” and “wandering mystics”. Might as well ask a curiously-shaped cloud.   Overstated are the promises of great power to be found here, understated are those of wild horrors. Yet, I sense a greater purpose among thee. What guides you, some miraculous grace or a foolish lost heart? Whatever it is, know that to enter and to leave The Fallen Earth are two very different things.”   The paladin finally looks up. His expression is blank, contrasting his dented yet gleaming armour. He turns to his horse.   “Mustn’t dally, I have to spend what I have before…” The paladin pauses mid-step and turns back for a moment. “Follow the road. Find Ylander. He runs The Single Step Tavern right where The Fallen Earth truly begins.”   The paladin gently tugs on the reins, leading the horse away.   Away from the deep scar of The Rending, once known as Eleston.