Durum

"We have lived in fear of the Wyrmbone for too long, when it was just another sword waiting to be sharpened. It is our tool now."

--Queen Aina the Whisperer, during the Ritual of Prismatic Integration, in 82 BBE (-82).

In the darker parts of the world, where shadows grow long and nefarious, and the minds of every object cackle with ill intent, there live a people. These Durumi, if they can even be named as such anymore, have seen the fearsome beasts, vengeful spirits, and crusading dimensional intruders of the Wyrmbone and the world, and instead of wanting to appease them, or fight them, or understand them, they saw an opportunity. An opportunity for control over the world, for beasts, spirits, and dimensions of their own.
Had the Empire of Erinion not been at war with the cosmos themselves when this practice began, they would have surely put a stop to this occult, hermetic movement. Had the Sha'tharra known of them, before they were too closely bonded with the Spirits and wills of the world, they would have surely burned down their homes with torrents of acid, raining from the skies.
But they did not, and now, within the dark, foggy inlets of Durum and the Hag's Haunt, these people bury their dead with a small cup of Coronium, sword of Cryptstone, and pentacle drawn with the blood-essence of spirits, and plant a Darkwood tree in the chest cavity. This grows larger the Forest of Dead Men, but unlike how it began, as a naturalistic process that promotes the cycle of life, this Rite may mix their peoples souls with the spirits of the Wyrmbone, and make its will their own.

A cup, sword, and pentacle. A door, a hall, and a friend. A world, a Story... and it's end.

Alternative Name(s)

Little Durum. Sometimes interchangeable with the Hag's Haunt, due to proximity.

Location under

The Scion's Coasts

Population:
50,000, mainly Durumi/Stavs (which are only distinguishable culturally), with a noticeable number of Wood Orcs.