Ataraxia Bay

A name that belies its true nature, Ataraxia Bay is anything but tranquil. Tucked between the northern deserts of Ramlat al-Sabatayn and the frigid eastern coastlines of The Crystalline Tundra, this expansive body of water is among the least traversed in all of Mordonia. For centuries, sailors spoke of the bay as a place where compasses spin without end, stars vanish in the night sky, and whispers ride the sea breeze like the ghosts of those who dared venture too far from shore.
At the heart of the bay floats a perfectly symmetrical stone monolith known only as The House of M. Suspended just above the roiling vortex known as the Maelstrom of Memory, the House seems to defy all natural laws—never descending, never rising, and never visibly moving. Its sheer, seamless walls bear no windows or doors. Despite its silent exterior, the mere sight of it can make the air feel heavier and reality seem… thinner.
The House is known across Mordonia as the seat of power for some of the most enigmatic and reality-warping spellcasters alive. At their helm is Morbidia Dragmire, the so-called Blackmoon Witch—a figure spoken of in hushed tones across the continent. Once dismissed as a mere myth, Morbidia’s presence has grown impossible to ignore. Ancient and nearly ageless, she is said to wield necromantic and eldritch magics in ways that few understand and fewer survive.
Her goals remain a mystery. Some say she is seeking powerful spellcasters to shape into soldiers, or perhaps into something worse. Others claim she acts as a dark mentor, whispering promises of power in exchange for loyalty in an impending arcane war. No one knows the truth for certain. Those taken are rarely seen again. And those who return… return wrong.
One town that remembers her well is Qalb Al-Sahil, the seaside village on the bay’s western edge. Four years ago, it suffered the wrath of the House of M—an unprovoked, magical onslaught that annihilated much of the town's defenses and heroes. Survivors recall the sky shattering with light, and the sea itself turning against them. It was not a conquest. It was a message.
Few now dare sail Ataraxia’s waters. Beyond the madness that infects the weather and the twisting of local wildlife, the bay is patrolled by a singular terror—Verulith the Unblinking. This monstrous sky serpent said to be a thousand-eyed horror that soars silently, and serves as the House’s guardian, ward, and executioner.
Though few chart the waters of Ataraxia Bay, rumors persist that deeper truths lie below the surface. Ancient structures—perhaps even older than the House of M—are said to rest on the seafloor, visible only in moonlight or in moments of magically induced clarity. Whether these structures belong to the lost civilization of Naxos, a long-dead sea god, or the Blackmoon Witch’s own predecessors, none can say.
Sailors, adventurers, and even arcane scholars know this much: the bay is waking up. And when it does, the rest of Mordonia may not be ready.