Tarell
Once the proud jewel of the Star Estuary, Tarell was where the great Eltawin River met the Gonmar, its docks serving as the crossroads of north and east. For centuries, the town thrived on trade—Shekiac timber and grain flowing south, and fine goods from Elaquwish and Garndson arriving from the eastern uplands. Barges and ships crowded its harbor, lanterns gleaming on the water long into the night, and the markets rang with the calls of merchants and sailors from across the continent.
That prosperity is gone. After the Pale Wars sixty years ago, the trade routes from the east withered, and when Aul’Daran fell to corruption, what little commerce still came down the Gonmar River dried to a trickle. The Eltawin remains navigable, but few dare sail north, fearing the dark waters and twisted creatures said to haunt the River Heart.
Now, Tarell lingers in uneasy stillness. Empty sea docks rot beside the silent river piers, and warehouses stand hollow where once goods were stacked to the rafters. The only steady presence is the garrison of the Hell’s Legion, whose barracks dominate the upper town. They keep order with cold precision, reminding the people of Tarell that the empire’s grip still holds, even as its prosperity fades.
The townsfolk survive by fishing and salvage, those who remain live under wary watch, their eyes turned seaward as if hoping the tide will one day bring life—and fortune—back to their forsaken port. But the wind that blows through Tarell’s empty masts carries only salt, decay, and the whispers of better days long drowned.
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