Vorithra

Vorithra was the ancestral seat of the Veyd Order, a remote world shrouded in the Veil’s subtle currents. Born from strange psychic summons that drew the galaxy’s first magic-wielders, it became a crucible of arcane mastery and wisdom—a beacon of healing and protection until its inhabitants’ ideals hardened into doctrine, and their light dimmed under the weight of time and conflict. Even after the Veyd’s purge, Vorithra endures as a abandoned and dead world filled with ruined temples and forgotten graves, silent testament to their whispering of a lost era.

Geography

Vorithra’s terrain tells a tale of lost vitality and relentless ruin—a world once radiant with diversity, its landscapes a cradle for the Veydar’s arcane awakening, now a desolate shell, its vibrancy scoured away by the Draethar’s purge. What remains is a fractured expanse, its bones laid bare beneath the Veil’s fading hum, a stark memorial to a past drowned in ash and silence.

Veyrahn Supercontinent:
Then: The heart of Vorithra, Veyrahn sprawled as a verdant supercontinent—a tapestry of rolling hills, dense woodlands, and winding rivers that shimmered with Veil-touched clarity. Its western reaches bloomed with golden grasslands, their edges softening into groves of towering, silver-barked trees—canopies alive with shifting light, their leaves catching the wind in a chorus of rustles. To the east, rugged cliffs framed deep valleys, their slopes blanketed in cascading vines and flowering shrubs—rivers carved gentle paths, pooling into crystalline lakes that mirrored the sky. Veyrahn’s center rose as a fertile plain, its soil rich with minerals, sustaining the Veydar’s first settlements—here, the Veil’s currents wove through the land, a living pulse that fed its abundance.
Now: Veyrahn lies broken—its grasslands reduced to cracked, gray dust, the trees felled or withered to skeletal husks, their bark peeling into the wind. The eastern cliffs stand jagged and bare, vines burned away, valleys choked with ash and rubble from Draethar bombardments. The rivers have dried, their beds split and lifeless—lakes evaporated, leaving shallow craters of silt and bone. The central plain, once a cradle, is a pitted waste—settlements razed, their stone scorched black, the Veil’s pulse muted beneath layers of decay. Veyrahn endures as a mausoleum, its vitality extinguished, its expanse a silent accusation.
Eryndor Plateau:
Then: Rising from Veyrahn’s core, the Eryndor Plateau was a breathtaking shelf of pale, crystalline stone—its surface smooth and luminous, veined with glowing fissures that pulsed with Veil energy. Broad meadows stretched across it, dotted with lithra stalks—silvery grasses swaying in harmony—while clusters of low, flowering bushes framed natural springs that bubbled with clear, arcane-charged water. The plateau’s edges sloped into gentle terraces, home to the Veydar’s first spires—elegant structures of white stone and woven vines, their bases surrounded by gardens of kael blooms. The air shimmered with a faint haze, the Veil’s presence a warm, living breath that sustained the Veyd’s sanctuaries.
Now: The Eryndor Plateau is a shattered ruin—its crystalline stone cracked and dulled, fissures dark and silent, their glow snuffed out. The meadows are gone—lithra stalks reduced to brittle shards, bushes charred to stumps, springs dried to hollow pits. The terraces lie in heaps, spires toppled into piles of rubble—scorched glyphs mark the stone, remnants of Draethar firestorms. The air hangs heavy, stale, and cold—no Veil haze remains, only dust swirling over a graveyard of broken halls. The plateau stands as Vorithra’s dead heart, its beauty a memory entombed in ash.
Kaelith Highlands:
Then: North of the plateau, the Kaelith Highlands soared as rugged, majestic ridges—a realm of windswept peaks and deep gorges, their slopes cloaked in dense, emerald forests of needle-leaved trees. Streams tumbled from the heights, carving narrow falls that sparkled with Veil-light—mossy banks thrived with kael vines, their luminescent buds dotting the undergrowth like stars. The highest summits bore glowing fissures, natural altars where the guide’s projection first appeared—Veydar pilgrims built stone circles here, their chants mingling with the wind. The Highlands were a place of solitude and power, their vitality a mirror to the Veyd’s growing strength.
Now: The Kaelith Highlands are a barren scar—forests burned to stumps, their roots clawing at eroded soil, streams vanished into cracked channels. The falls are dry, their basins littered with shattered stone—kael vines hang desiccated, buds crumbled to dust. The summit fissures stare blankly skyward, their glow extinguished—stone circles lie scattered, crushed under Draethar boots. The wind howls through empty gorges, carrying ash instead of life—the Highlands a skeletal remnant, their power silenced, their solitude absolute.
Sylrahn Lowlands:
Then: Southward, the Sylrahn Lowlands dipped into a warm, sheltered basin—a lush expanse of wetlands and rift-lakes, their waters aglow with Veil energy, fringed by swaying syl moss and tall, feathery reeds. Broadleaf trees arched over the lakes, their canopies a mosaic of greens and blues—small islands rose from the depths, carpeted in soft grasses and wildflowers. The air buzzed with life—veyl moths danced above, sylra swimmers glided below—while the Veydar cultivated the moss for rituals, their boats cutting gentle wakes. The Lowlands were Vorithra’s breadbasket, a vibrant pulse of sustenance and serenity.
Now: The Sylrahn Lowlands are a cracked, lifeless hollow—rift-lakes evaporated, their beds a mosaic of dry silt and fishbones, syl moss a blackened crust peeling from the earth. The reeds and trees stand as twisted husks, islands barren mounds of dirt—moths and swimmers long gone, their remains buried in ash. Draethar weapons carved gashes into the basin, toppling settlements into the muck—the air is still, thick with the stench of rot. The Lowlands lie as a festering wound, their vibrancy erased, their waters a ghost in the dust.
Veilstra Depths:
Then: Encircling Veyrahn, the Veilstra Depths shimmered as shallow, radiant seas—their waters a deep, shifting teal, alive with arcane currents that cast rippling lights across the waves. Coral-like formations of Veil-charged stone rose near the shores, teeming with tiny, glowing swimmers—small volcanic islands dotted the expanse, their slopes lush with grasses and flowering shrubs, havens for kaelith drakes. The Depths were a serene frontier, their tides a soft hymn to the Veydar’s harmony with the Veil—a lifeline for trade and reflection.
Now: The Veilstra Depths are a stagnant, gray mire—waters dulled to a lifeless sheen, arcane currents stilled, coral reduced to brittle skeletons crumbling into silt. The islands stand bare, their flora incinerated—drakes extinct, their nests empty hollows in the rock. Draethar ships once razed the shores, leaving rusted hulks half-sunk in the muck—the tides no longer sing, the seas a dead mirror to Vorithra’s fall. The Depths encircle a corpse, their radiance snuffed out, their silence unbroken.
Veil Nodes:
Then: Scattered across the Eryndor Plateau and beyond, the Veil Nodes were sacred hollows—circular depressions where arcane energy pooled, their rims smooth with glowing stone, their depths shimmering with a soft, silver light. Surrounded by lithra stalks and wildflowers, they pulsed like the planet’s heartbeat—the Veydar built spires around them, channeling their power into rites and forges. Nodes dotted the Highlands and Lowlands too, smaller but vital—sources of healing waters and the guide’s voice, they bound Vorithra’s landscapes in a web of life.
Now: The Veil Nodes are dark, empty pits—rims eroded to jagged dust, their light extinguished, their depths filled with ash and debris. No stalks or flowers remain—spires lie in ruins beside them, forges cold. The Draethar’s purge shattered their resonance, severing the Veil’s flow—the Nodes stand as mute scars, their power drained, their sanctity a memory lost to the wind.

Ecosystem

Vorithra’s ecosystem is a shattered relic of its former glory—a once-vibrant web of flora and fauna, woven with the Veil’s gentle currents, now has withered to near-nothingness. A barren graveyard where life has been extinguished by the Draethar’s purge. The lithra stalks that once graced the Eryndor Plateau stand as brittle husks—silvery grasses turned to ash-gray splinters, their crystalline tips shattered across the stone. In the Highlands, kael vines hang limp and desiccated—tendrils snapped, their luminescent buds dulled to lifeless beads. The Sylrahn Lowlands’ syl moss, once teal and pulsing, has faded to a crust of blackened rot along dry lakebeds—crumbling at the lightest touch.

Ecosystem Cycles

Vorithra’s ecosystem cycles, once a rhythmic dance of life tied to the Veil’s ebb and flow, have ceased in its current state as a dead, abandoned world. In its prime, the planet pulsed with seasonal shifts—driven by its orbit and the Veil Nodes’ arcane resonance—shaping the behavior of its flora and fauna in a harmonious cadence of growth, migration, and renewal. Now, post-purge, those cycles are a memory, replaced by an unchanging stillness where no life stirs to respond.

Past Cycles (Veydar and Veyd Eras):
Vorithra’s year, roughly 340 standard days, revolved around two primary phases influenced by the Veil Nodes’ surge and the planet’s subtle axial tilt—Node Bloom and Veil Fade—each dictating distinct ecological rhythms.
Node Bloom (170 days):
Conditions: Triggered by a peak in Veil energy, this phase saw temperatures rise slightly (20-30°C on the Eryndor Plateau, 25-35°C in the Sylrahn Lowlands), with gentle rains falling across Veyrahn—rivers swelled, rift-lakes deepened, and a faint silver haze hung in the air from Node emissions. The Veilstra Depths’ tides surged, washing nutrients onto island shores.
Flora Response: Lithra stalks bloomed with translucent flowers, their pollen glowing brighter—kael vines unfurled new buds, their luminescence intensifying—syl moss thickened, pulsing vividly—canopy trees shed old leaves, sprouting iridescent replacements in a shimmering cascade. Growth peaked, sustaining the Veydar’s harvests and rituals.
Fauna Response: Veyl moths entered a procreation surge, their glowing wings filling the night as they mated over lithra fields—kaelith drakes migrated from Highland gorges to plateau terraces, nesting near springs to lay eggs—sylra swimmers spawned in the rift-lakes, their light tracing intricate patterns—veilstra gliders flocked to Depths islands, feasting on shrub berries to fatten for leaner times. The Veyd marked this as a season of renewal, gathering moth silk and swimmer eggs.
Veil Fade (170 days):
Conditions: As Veil energy waned, temperatures cooled (10-20°C on the plateau, 15-25°C in the Lowlands)—rains tapered to a fine mist, rivers slowed, and the Nodes dimmed, casting a softer glow. The Depths’ tides receded, exposing coral beds—winds sharpened, carrying a crisp edge across the Highlands.
Flora Response: Lithra stalks hardened, their flowers dropping to seed the soil—kael vines retracted slightly, conserving energy, buds dimming—syl moss slowed its pulse, forming a protective crust—canopy trees thickened their bark, leaves dimming to a muted green-blue. Dormancy set in, preparing for the next surge.
Fauna Response: Veyl moths entered a low-energy state, clustering in canopy groves—kaelith drakes retreated to Highland crevices, hibernating in shallow burrows—sylra swimmers burrowed into lake silt, slowing their metabolism—veilstra gliders roosted in coral hollows, relying on stored fat. The Veyd used this time for study, harvesting dormant moss and vine resin.
Dynamics: These cycles balanced abundance and rest—Node Bloom fueled growth and reproduction, Veil Fade conserved resources—organisms adapted seamlessly, their migrations and hibernation syncing with the Veil’s rhythm. The Veydar and Veyd lived by this pulse, their society mirroring its ebb and flow.
Present State (Post-Purge):
Conditions: No cycles endure—Vorithra’s ecosystem lies in perpetual stasis, its Veil Nodes extinguished by the Draethar’s purge. Temperatures are static (5-10°C on the plateau, 0 to -5°C in the Highlands, 15-20°C in the Lowlands)—no rains fall, no tides shift—the thin atmosphere holds only dust and ash, the Nodes silent. The planet’s orbit continues, but its ecological heartbeat has stopped—seasons are irrelevant in a world without life.
Flora and Fauna: With all flora—lithra stalks, kael vines, syl moss, canopy trees—burned or decayed, and fauna—moths, drakes, swimmers, gliders—extinct, no organisms remain to react. No migrations, no hibernation, no procreation—only husks and bones litter the landscape, unmoved by time. The Draethar’s fire and toxins severed every cycle, leaving a void where renewal once thrived.
Residual Echoes: Scavengers report an occasional faint hum from buried Node remnants during what would have been Node Bloom—perhaps a ghost of the Veil’s past—but it stirs nothing. Vorithra’s cycles are dead, its silence absolute, a grim testament to the purge’s totality.

Localized Phenomena

Vorithra’s unique phenomena, once marvels of its Veil-rich nature, have been dulled or twisted by the Draethar’s devastation—remnants of a vibrant past now haunting its dead present. These features, born of its arcane foundation and the guide’s influence, set it apart as the Veyd’s cradle, their echoes lingering in the ruins.

Veil Shimmers (Past):
Then: During Node Bloom, the Veil Nodes released bursts of arcane energy—silvery shimmers that rose like mist, refracting sunlight into prismatic arcs across the Eryndor Plateau and Sylrahn Lowlands. These fleeting displays, lasting hours, bathed the landscape in a radiant glow—lithra stalks sparkled, sylra swimmers danced beneath lake surfaces. The Veydar believed they carried the guide’s will, using them to align rituals—scholars noted they enhanced focus, a natural boon to arcane study.
Now: The shimmers are gone—Nodes inert, their energy drained by the purge. Rare reports claim faint, distorted flickers in the plateau’s dust during old Bloom times—brief, colorless wisps that vanish quickly—but they lack power or purpose, a broken memory of Vorithra’s light.
Node Songs (Past):
Then: The Veil Nodes hummed with a low, resonant tone—strongest in the Highlands and plateau during Node Bloom—a sound like distant chimes or soft voices, audible for kilometers. This “song” shifted with the wind, harmonizing with veyl moth hums and kaelith drake chirps—the Veyd used it to time meditations, believing it echoed the guide’s teachings. It peaked at dawn, a soothing call across the vibrant wilds.
Now: Silence reigns—the Nodes’ hum died with their power. Scavengers occasionally hear a faint, discordant buzz from buried Node fragments—jarring, not soothing—but it’s fleeting, a fractured remnant swallowed by the wind’s rasp over ash.
Lowland Vapors (Past):
Then: In the Sylrahn Lowlands, rift-lakes released warm, Veil-charged vapors during Veil Fade—thin, glowing mists that drifted upward, curling around canopy trees and reeds. Tinged with a sweet, earthy scent from syl moss, they induced calm—Veyd healers inhaled them to aid patients, claiming they eased pain and sharpened dreams. The vapors shimmered faintly, a gentle counterpoint to the plateau’s shimmers.
Now: The lakes are dry, the vapors vanished—only a stale, acrid stench rises from decayed moss and silt, a ghost of the purge’s toxins. No mist curls, no calm remains—the Lowlands’ air is a dead weight, its sweetness lost.
Highland Sparks (Past):
Then: The Kaelith Highlands’ glowing fissures interacted with ferrous deposits—during Veil Fade, static discharges sparked across the peaks, tiny arcs of Veil-light that crackled like fireflies. These “sparks” danced above kael vines, charging the air with a crisp tang—Veyd smiths harnessed them to temper early Noctran Blades, believing they carried the guide’s blessing. They lit the nights, a subtle marvel of the rugged wilds.
Now: The fissures are dark, the sparks extinguished—ferrous stone lies inert, cracked by Draethar blasts. Rare, erratic flickers—dim and brief—jump from shattered peaks, but they lack rhythm or power, a dying twitch in a lifeless husk.
Dust Wraiths (Present):
Then: Absent in Vorithra’s vibrant era—the lush ecosystem and Veil’s balance left no room for such anomalies.
Now: Post-purge, the plateau and Lowlands spawn “dust wraiths”—swirling clouds of ash and Veil-tainted silt, rising unbidden during high winds. They twist into vague, skeletal shapes—limbs or faces—before dissipating, a supernatural echo of the Veyd’s fall. Scavengers claim they whisper faintly, unintelligible and cold—some call them the guide’s remnant, others the planet’s curse. Unique to Vorithra’s dead state, they drift without purpose, a grim mark of its ruin.

Climate

Vorithra’s climate is a cold, unyielding stillness, its thin atmosphere stripped of vigor since the Veyd’s fall. The Eryndor Plateau hovers at a perpetual 5-10°C, scoured by dry, biting winds from the Kaelith Highlands—carrying no sound but the faint rasp of dust on stone. The Highlands drop colder, 0 to -5°C, their mists evaporated, leaving only a brittle chill that clings to the fissures. The Sylrahn Lowlands, shielded from the wind, sit warmer at 15-20°C—yet their air is stagnant, heavy with the scent of decayed moss and silt. Rain has ceased—once-gentle drizzles that fed rift-lakes no longer fall, the Node Surge a forgotten pulse that stirs nothing. The Veil’s influence lingers faintly, a ghost of stability—no storms rage, no heat scorches—just an endless, muted grayness. Vorithra’s climate, once a cradle for focus, now lies as dead as its masters—a shroud over a world abandoned to time.

Fauna & Flora

Vorithra’s ecosystem is a shattered relic of its former glory—a once-vibrant web of flora and fauna, woven with the Veil’s gentle currents, now a barren graveyard where life has been extinguished by the Draethar’s purge. In its prime, it flourished as a sanctuary of diversity and harmony, sustaining the Veydar and Veyd through abundance and arcane resonance; today, it lies silent, its vitality burned away, its remnants crumbling into the dust of a dead world.

Flora:
Lithra Stalks:
Then: Across the Eryndor Plateau, lithra stalks stood as the backbone of Vorithra’s flora—tall, silvery grasses with crystalline tips that shimmered in the wind, their blades catching Veil-light in a soft, radiant dance. Rooted deep in the plateau’s fertile soil, they thrived near Veil Nodes, drawing arcane energy to fuel their growth—clusters bloomed with tiny, translucent flowers in spring, releasing pollen that glowed faintly at dusk. The Veydar harvested their stalks for weaving and their pollen for ritual incense, their presence a symbol of the planet’s quiet vitality.
Now: The lithra stalks are gone—reduced to brittle, ash-gray splinters scattered across the cracked plateau. Their crystalline tips lie shattered, dulled to opaque fragments; no flowers bloom, no pollen drifts. The Draethar’s firestorms incinerated their roots, and without Veil Nodes to sustain them, they crumbled—only windblown husks remain, a faint crunch underfoot in the silence.
Kael Vines:
Then: Clinging to the Kaelith Highlands’ cliffs and gorges, kael vines wove a delicate tapestry—thin, wiry tendrils with small, luminescent buds that pulsed like stars against the emerald foliage. Their shallow roots tapped into mineral-rich stone, thriving in the mist of tumbling streams—each bud exuded a sweet, herbal scent, used by Veyd healers to craft salves for wounds and fatigue. They draped over stone circles, framing the guide’s altars with living light—a testament to the Highlands’ serene abundance.
Now: The kael vines hang desiccated and lifeless—tendrils snapped, buds crumbled to dust, their glow extinguished. Scorched by Draethar weapons and starved of water, they cling to eroded cliffs like skeletal threads—roots petrified in cracked stone, scent replaced by the acrid tang of ash. They mark the Highlands’ fall, a brittle shroud over a once-living realm.
Syl Moss:
Then: In the Sylrahn Lowlands, syl moss carpeted the rift-lake shores—a soft, teal growth that pulsed faintly with absorbed Veil energy, its surface rippling like water under sunlight. It spread in thick mats, anchoring the wetlands’ ecosystem—broadleaf trees rooted in its moisture, reeds sprouted from its edges. The Veydar cultivated it for rituals, pressing its essence into oils that calmed the mind—its vibrant hue and gentle hum made the Lowlands a haven of life and renewal.
Now: Syl moss lies as a blackened crust—dried and cracked along vanished lakebeds, its teal faded to a rotting gray. The Draethar’s purge drained the lakes, and fire seared its mats to ash—roots decayed, leaving only flakes that peel away in the wind. No hum remains, no life clings to it—the Lowlands’ heart is a dead scar, its moss a forgotten echo.
Veyrahn Canopy Trees:
Then: Across Veyrahn’s plains and valleys, canopy trees towered—silver-barked giants with broad, iridescent leaves that shifted from green to blue in the light. Their branches arched gracefully, forming shaded groves where lithra stalks and wildflowers thrived—deep roots tapped rivers, yielding a resin prized by Veyd scholars for sealing codices. Their canopies buzzed with life, a cornerstone of the supercontinent’s lush vitality—symbols of endurance and wisdom.
Now: The canopy trees stand as twisted husks—bark charred black, leaves incinerated, branches snapped by Draethar bombardment. Roots rot in dry riverbeds, resin long evaporated—groves are now barren wastes, littered with fallen trunks and ash. They tower no more, their silence a monument to Vorithra’s lost abundance.
Fauna:
Veyl Moths:
Then: Veyl moths fluttered across the Eryndor Plateau and Veyrahn plains—delicate creatures with wings shimmering in Veil-dust, their patterns glowing softly at night. They fed on lithra pollen and canopy nectar, their dance a nightly spectacle—the Veyd saw them as omens of balance, weaving their silk into ceremonial robes. Their gentle hum filled the air, a living thread in Vorithra’s vibrant tapestry—ubiquitous yet cherished.
Now: Veyl moths lie in decayed heaps—wings tattered to dust, bodies shriveled beneath rubble and ash. The purge’s flames and ecosystem collapse wiped them out—no pollen or nectar remains to sustain them. Their silk rots in ruined halls, their hum a memory lost to the wind—the plateau’s nights are dark and still, their absence a void.
Kaelith Drakes:
Then: In the Kaelith Highlands, kaelith drakes darted among rocks and trees—small, agile lizards with translucent scales that refracted Veil-light into faint rainbows. They hunted insects in the undergrowth, their sharp chirps blending with stream splashes—nests of woven vines crowned the cliffs, their eggs prized by Veyd cooks for delicate flavor. Swift and elusive, they embodied the Highlands’ lively spirit—a flicker of life in the rugged wilds.
Now: Kaelith drakes are extinct—scales fossilized in crevices, nests collapsed into ash, eggs shattered by Draethar boots. Forests burned and streams dried, leaving no prey or shelter—their chirps silenced, their rainbows gone. The Highlands’ cliffs hold only their bones, a fragile trace of a lost era.
Sylra Swimmers:
Then: The Sylrahn Lowlands’ rift-lakes teemed with sylra swimmers—slender, eel-like creatures with sleek, glowing bodies that traced arcs of light beneath the water. They fed on moss spores and tiny crustaceans, their bioluminescence guiding Veydar boats at night—harvested sparingly, their flesh was a ritual delicacy, believed to sharpen the mind. Graceful and plentiful, they made the Lowlands a shimmering jewel—life pulsing in harmony with the Veil.
Now: Sylra swimmers litter the dry lakebeds—skeletons bleached and brittle, glow long faded, flesh rotted away. The lakes’ loss and Draethar toxins killed them off—no moss or prey survives to feed them. Their lightless husks crunch underfoot, the Lowlands’ jewel dulled to a grave of bones.
Veilstra Gliders:
Then: Along the Veilstra Depths’ shores and islands, veilstra gliders soared—small, winged creatures with membrane-thin sails that caught the sea breeze, their scales iridescent with Veil-charged hues. They nested in coral hollows, feeding on tiny swimmers and shrub berries—their trilling calls echoed over the waves, a melody the Veydar paired with evening chants. Agile and radiant, they tied the Depths to Vorithra’s thriving whole—a bridge of life across water and land.
Now: Veilstra gliders are gone—corpses mired in silt or buried in ash, wings torn, scales dulled to gray. The seas’ stagnation and island burnings ended them—no food, no nests remain. Their calls are mute, the Depths a lifeless mirror—their absence seals Vorithra’s death.
Ecosystem Dynamics:
Then: Vorithra’s ecosystem was a delicate balance—Veil Nodes fueled flora like lithra and syl moss, which anchored herbivores and omnivores (drakes, swimmers). Predators were rare, harmony reigned—moths and gliders pollinated, canopy trees sheltered, rivers and lakes cycled nutrients. The Veydar nurtured it—harvesting sustainably, planting where they took—its vibrancy reflected their ethos of protection and wisdom, a living extension of the guide’s will.
Now: The Draethar purge broke it all—fire razed flora, water sources dried, fauna starved or burned. Veil Nodes dimmed, severing the arcane lifeline—soil eroded, ash smothered, and life collapsed. No cycles turn, no balance holds—Vorithra is a sterile void, its ecosystem a casualty of war, its silence absolute.

Natural Resources

Vorithra’s natural resources, once a wellspring of vitality and arcane power that fueled the Veydar and Veyd’s rise, have been stripped to near-nothingness by the Acaronians’ relentless exploitation. In its prime, the planet offered a bounty of minerals, organic compounds, and Veil-infused materials—sustaining a thriving society of scholars and protectors. After the Draethar purge, their systematic plundering reduced Vorithra to a hollowed-out husk, its wealth carted off to Acaron or left to rot in the ruins of a dead world.

Veylith Crystal:
Past: A translucent, silver-veined mineral found in the Kaelith Highlands’ glowing fissures and beneath the Eryndor Plateau’s crystalline stone—veylith crystal pulsed faintly with Veil energy, its structure amplifying arcane resonance. The Veydar mined it sparingly, shaping it into focusing lenses for rituals and inlays for the first Noctran Blades—its clarity enhanced meditation, its hum a conduit for the guide’s teachings. Deposits were abundant, nestled in Highland gorges and plateau seams, a cornerstone of Vorithra’s arcane mastery.
Post-Purge: The Acaronians tore veylith from the planet—Highland fissures were blasted open, plateau mines gutted—leaving only shattered fragments too small to harvest. The Draethar shipped it to Acaron, forging it into temple wards and weapon hilts—its Veil pulse faded without Vorithra’s Nodes, reducing it to brittle shards littering the ruins. Scavengers pick at the scraps, but the resource is spent, its power a memory.
Sylrahn Sap:
Past: Extracted from the canopy trees of Veyrahn and the Sylrahn Lowlands, sylrahn sap was a thick, iridescent resin—green-blue and faintly luminescent, rich with Veil-touched nutrients from deep roots. The Veyd distilled it into salves for healing wounds and sealing codices—its durability coated their spires, protecting stone from erosion. Harvested sustainably, it flowed freely from tapped trunks, a renewable gift of the Lowlands’ wetlands and Veyrahn’s groves—vital to their economy and rituals.
Post-Purge: The Draethar felled the trees—groves burned, roots ripped out—carting barrels of sap to Acaron for ship sealants and priestly oils. Without trees, the sap is gone—dried smears stain the ash where trunks once stood, cracked and useless. The Acaronians took all they could, leaving nothing to regrow—its glow extinguished, its utility lost.
Kaerine Ore:
Past: A lightweight, bluish alloy buried in the Sylrahn Lowlands’ rift-lake beds and Veyrahn’s valley cliffs—kaerine ore shimmered with a metallic sheen, its strength ideal for crafting tools and armor. The Veyd smelted it with veylith to temper early Noctran Blades, its flexibility shaping their sanctuaries’ delicate arches—mined from shallow seams, it was plentiful, supporting their protective mission. Its faint Veil conductivity made it a prized export, traded across the galaxy in small, controlled batches.
Post-Purge: Acaronian strip-mines gutted the Lowlands and valleys—kaerine was hauled off to forge Draethar warships and Noctran copies, its seams exhausted. The purge’s fires melted remaining deposits into slag, now fused with silt and rubble—too impure to salvage. The Draethar left empty pits and scorched cliffs, kaerine’s shimmer buried in Vorithra’s corpse.
Veil Dust:
Past: A fine, silvery powder shed by lithra stalks and collected from Veil Node hollows—veil dust glittered with concentrated arcane essence, its particles buzzing with energy. The Veydar ground it into pigments for glyphs, wove it into moth silk for robes, and mixed it with kaerine to synthesize Obiscore—its potency amplified their crafts and rites. It drifted in the air during Node Bloom, a renewable resource gathered with care, abundant across the plateau and plains—a lifeblood of their society.
Post-Purge: The Draethar harvested veil dust by the ton—raking it from burned fields and Node ruins—shipping it to Acaron for temple incense and weapon forging. With lithra gone and Nodes dead, no new dust forms—piles of it lie scattered in the ash, dulled to gray, its buzz silenced. The Acaronians took the bulk, leaving trace amounts too tainted by purge toxins to use—a ghost of Vorithra’s power.
Rift Salts:
Past: Crystalline deposits lining the Sylrahn Lowlands’ rift-lakes and Veilstra Depths’ shores—rift salts formed from evaporated Veil-charged water, their teal grains faintly warm to the touch. The Veyd dissolved them into tonics to sharpen focus and mend fatigue—sprinkled on syl moss, they enhanced ritual oils. Abundant in the wet seasons, they crusted lake edges and coral beds—a subtle but vital resource, sustaining healers and scholars alike.
Post-Purge: The lakes dried, and the Draethar scraped rift salts clean—carted to Acaron for alchemical brews and priestly rites, their warmth prized by the Draethar Elite. Remaining traces dissolved into silt or blew away as dust—lakeshores hold only cracked, empty crusts, their teal faded to a lifeless white. Stripped bare, rift salts are a lost echo of Vorithra’s bounty.
Current State:
Vorithra’s resources are depleted—the Acaronians’ purge was thorough, targeting every vein and grove. Veylith mines are hollowed, sylrahn trees felled, kaerine seams exhausted—veil dust and rift salts, once renewable, vanished with their sources. The Draethar stripped the planet to fuel their empire, leaving scraps too broken or tainted to harvest—scavengers find little worth taking, the ruins yielding only dust and slag. Vorithra’s wealth now bolsters Acaron, its own surface a barren testament to exploitation, its natural bounty a casualty of war and greed.

History

Vorithra’s history is a saga of revelation, ascension, and ruin—a world called into being by psychic whispers, forged into a sanctuary of arcane mastery, and shattered by the Draethar’s unrelenting purge. From its first inhabitants to its final desolation, it stands as the cradle and grave of the Veydar and Veyd, its legacy stripped away by the hands of Acaron’s lords.

The Summoning and the Veydar’s Birth:
Vorithra emerged from obscurity when strange psychic summons—enigmatic murmurs of purpose—echoed into the minds of scattered magic-wielders across the galaxy. Drawn to its barren Eryndor Plateau, these wanderers found a spectral guide—an unknowable being—waiting amid the Kaelith Highlands’ glowing fissures. Its projection offered wisdom and mastery over the Veil, mentoring the newcomers as they carved a foothold on the crystalline stone. Naming their refuge Vorithra—“the called”—they settled Veyrahn’s fertile plains, raising crude shelters of woven lithra stalks and canopy wood. Under the guide’s tutelage, they became the Veydar—a fledgling culture bound by shared arcane gifts and the promise of enlightenment. The plateau bloomed with their first gardens, the Lowlands yielded syl moss, and the Highlands rang with chants—Vorithra awakened as Kaethra Vey, a cradle shaped by the guide’s will.
The Veydar’s Rise:
As the Veydar grew, their bond with the guide deepened—its teachings, carved into stone tablets, guided them to harness the Veil Nodes’ pulsing energy. They built spires on the Eryndor Plateau—simple at first, then elegant towers of pale stone and veylith crystal—surrounding the Nodes where the guide’s voice resonated clearest. A structured society took root: scholars penned codices from veil dust and sylrahn sap, healers brewed rift-salt tonics, protectors forged tools from kaerine ore. The Sylrahn Lowlands became a haven of moss and lake-life, sustaining their rituals—Veyrahn’s groves sheltered families, the Veilstra Depths shimmered with trade boats. The guide’s presence wove through it all—a spectral mentor fading with time, yet its lessons fostered a thriving community. The Veydar named this era their golden dawn—Vorithra a beacon of harmony, its vibrancy a mirror to their unity.
The Guide’s Fading and the Veyd’s Emergence:
The guide’s projection weakened as generations passed—its form dimming, its voice a whisper—until it vanished, leaving only its etched words and a legacy of purpose. The Veydar adapted, their culture evolving into the Veyd—a disciplined order dedicated to the guide’s ideals of wisdom, healing, and protection. The spires grew taller, their halls lined with veylith lenses and kaerine arches—temples rose across the plateau, their glyphs glowing with veil dust, sanctifying Vorithra as Sanctuary Prime. The Veyd crafted the first Noctran Blade here, melding synthetic Obiscore—born of veil dust and kaerine—with steel, a weapon of their arcane craft. They ventured beyond the planet, spreading aid across the galaxy, yet Vorithra remained their soul—its Highlands a retreat for training, its Lowlands a font of resources. The Veyd’s temples stood as testaments to their mastery, the world a living hymn to the guide’s fading light.
The Veyd Temples’ Zenith:
At their height, the Veyd transformed Vorithra into a nexus of arcane and martial power—temples sprawled across the Eryndor Plateau, their spires piercing the sky, their bases ringed by lithra fields and kael-vine gardens. The Kaelith Highlands echoed with the clash of Noctran Blades, initiates honing their craft amid the sparks of Veil-charged fissures—the Sylrahn Lowlands shimmered with rift-lakes, their waters powering rituals and healing wards. Scholars refined codices in vaulted libraries, healers tended pilgrims in moss-draped sanctums—protectors patrolled the Veilstra Depths, guarding against threats. Vorithra thrived as a sanctuary—its resources sustained an order that shaped worlds, its Veil Nodes a heartbeat of purpose. Yet within this zenith, seeds of discord grew—Vaer’Kalth, a Veyd adept, turned from their path, his rebellion a shadow cast from these very halls.
The Purge Under Lord Corhyn:
Vorithra’s end came with the Draethar’s purge, led by Lord Corhyn of the Ebon Regnorum—a towering figure clad in vethrite armor, his Noctran Blade a stolen echo of Veyd design. Commanding Acaron’s legions, Corhyn descended upon the planet—his forces razed the Eryndor Plateau, firestorms toppling spires and scorching lithra fields. The Kaelith Highlands fell silent, their fissures shattered by bombardment—the Sylrahn Lowlands’ lakes boiled dry under chemical barrages, moss and trees reduced to ash. Veyd defenders fought valiantly—blades clashing in temple halls, healers shielding the wounded—but Corhyn’s wrath was unrelenting. He stripped Vorithra bare—veylith hauled from mines, sylrahn sap drained from felled groves, kaerine ripped from cliffs—carting its wealth to Acaron. The Veyd were slaughtered, their graves dug amid the ruins—Corhyn’s final act was to sever the Veil Nodes, plunging the planet into silence. Vorithra was left a husk—its temples broken, its life extinguished, its legacy plundered by the Ebon Regnorum’s lord.
The Silent Aftermath:
Abandoned by the Draethar, who turned their gaze to Acaron, Vorithra stands as a dead world—its spires jagged silhouettes against a gray sky, its Lowlands a cracked waste, its Highlands a tomb of eroded stone. The Acaronians took all they desired—veil dust, rift salts, every scrap of worth—leaving only rubble and ash. Scavengers roam the ruins, picking at bones and slag—pilgrims whisper of the guide amid the dust wraiths, but no life stirs. Vorithra endures as a monument to the Veyd’s fall—its history a whisper in the wind, its sanctity crushed beneath Lord Corhyn’s heel, a silent grave for a lost order.