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As Written by Lazzamore Horses nay'd as carriages wandered through the small Easttowne, a trading hub and port on the far east coast of Idain. Someone shouted at another, sending shock waves through the ports main, winding road. Out here in the fringe, people are untamed, controlled mostly by...

It was been nearly a thousand years since the world was cursed at the hands of the Obsidian lord. The People of Idain are getting along in life well enough; society has been born and it grows healthily like a great oak's sapling. Bronze is worked, plants are grown, and the world is in little...

The wind was a loud howl between the tops of the crags above. You find yourself standing on a bed of pine needles in a canyon of dark emerald evergreens, and walls of slate-blue stone. the canyon walls reach up and form spires, that resemble giant blue hands. To the west, the mountains climb to...