Welcome to the Towns & Cities page, here you can find all there is to know about the cities and their people!
This post is a simple and easy way to tell how all of Aetheria Cities are gauged by population, all capitals such as Stormpoint sit in the metropolis ranking while the smallest of cities like Rock port sit in the Town Ranking. Anything below town ranking is not shown on the world maps to keep clutter down as well as give you creative freedom!
Stormpoint
Capital
The Heart of Gibarra
Cradled at the basin of the Thunder Mountain Range, resting along the northern shore of the Long Lake, lies the sprawling and storied city of Stormpoint—a shining emblem of hope, strength, and perseverance in the vast continent of Gibarra. To many, Stormpoint is not just a city—it is the living heart of the realm, a place where tradition and ambition intertwine, and where the legacy of a single woman birthed one of the greatest Houses in all of Aetheria.
A City of Life and Order
Stormpoint pulses with energy. Its inner city is a vibrant maze of stone streets, colorful banners, and the constant murmur of merchants, travelers, scholars, and adventurers alike. Shops and open markets fill every corner, offering everything from enchanted relics to homegrown spices. Towering stone archways and artisan-crafted buildings stand side by side with more modest homes, creating a beautiful tapestry of class, culture, and coexistence.
At the city’s core looms the White Castle, a gleaming monument of alabaster stone built into the rising cliffs at the base of the Thunder Mountains. Its high towers and battlements catch the first light of dawn, symbolizing the watchful protection of House Barron, the city’s noble protectors and founders. From these halls, the Barron's have ruled Stormpoint for generations with a commitment to honor, sacrifice, and truth.
Stormpoint is well-guarded, with trained patrols, seasoned knights, and a robust city watch ensuring that law and order are upheld. Yet despite its size and status, the city is known for being welcoming and fair—a haven for the honest, a challenge for the corrupt.
The Farmlands and the Outskirts
Beyond the fortified walls and bustling inner rings of the city lie the open stretches of farmland, where generations of families have tilled the soil under the shadow of the mountains. These fertile plains, enriched by runoff from the Thunder Range and the freshwater currents of Long Lake, provide most of Stormpoint’s food and grain, making it not just a military and political hub, but also a vital agricultural center.
Out here, the air is quieter, and the people live by the rhythm of the earth. Villages dot the countryside, connected to Stormpoint by well-maintained roads and caravans. The people of the outskirts are fiercely proud of their connection to the city—they call themselves Stormfolk, and carry the same values as House Barron: resilience, community, and strength through unity.
The Legacy of Avelina Barron
Stormpoint’s origins stretch back to Year 5c 078 of the Second Age, when a woman named Avelina Barron first led her kin across the untamed plains of northern Gibarra. With little more than a vision and unyielding determination, she guided her family through harsh lands, tribal skirmishes, and monstrous threats, until she reached the basin where the mountains met the lake—a place of natural beauty and strategic power. She called it home.
Avelina was no noble. She was a mother, a protector, and a visionary, who wore her burdens with dignity. It was said that she stood tall where others would kneel, and that the winds that whip through Stormpoint’s cliffs still carry her name.
Her second son, Argon Tzolkin, would later take her surname, Barron, in her honor. Thirty years after she settled the land, he officially founded the settlement of Stormpoint, declaring it a place of legacy, freedom, and strength. From there, House Barron was born, and Stormpoint began its transformation from a humble lakeside village into one of the most important cities in Aetheria.
A Symbol of Unity and Purpose
Today, Stormpoint stands as a testament not just to wealth or might, but to vision, sacrifice, and the quiet strength of the people who built it. It is a city where anyone, no matter how small, can rise to greatness. Where hard work is valued, and honor is more than just a word. Where the old ways are remembered, and new legends are written every day.
Whether you're a merchant looking for trade, a scholar seeking ancient texts, a warrior chasing glory, or a farmer hoping for honest work Stormpoint has a place for you.
Just be sure to honor its laws, respect its people, and remember the name of the woman who made it all possible.
Welcome to Stormpoint—the White City of the North, the Beacon of the Thunder Basin, and the Heart of Gibarra.
Raven Crest
The Silent Steeple of the South
Just south of Stormpoint, nestled in the rolling highlands where the wind carries whispers of prayer and old names, stands Raven Crest. A town carved from faith, silence, and history. Once the crown of Gibarra’s civilization, Raven Crest now endures not as a monument to lost glory, but as a sentinel of tradition. Its bells toll not for conquest, but for continuity. This is a place where time moves slowly, and reverence lingers in the stones.
The City that Guided a Continent
In the earliest days of the Second Age, when the land trembled under the chaos of the Booming—a time of unrestrained expansion, invention, and disorder, one man chose not to build a kingdom of power, but a refuge of peace. His name was Vector Richter, a weary traveler who wandered through broken roads and lawless lands, seeking not fame, but balance.
On the 35th year of the 4th cycle, Vector laid the first stones of what would become Raven Crest. Atop a hill where ravens circled like sentries and clouds parted in reverence, he raised a sanctuary, both of stone and spirit. It was a beacon of calm during an age of wild ambition a city of law, worship, and solemn order.
In time, Vector's followers grew. He taught them that strength came not from the sword, but from unity; not from innovation, but from discipline. The Richter Family, born from his legacy, has led Raven Crest ever since, guardians of faith and law, even as the world around them changed beyond recognition.
Fallen Glory, Unshaken Roots
Long before House Barron’s banners flew over Gibarra, Raven Crest stood as the largest and most respected city in the realm. Its temples reached for the heavens; its sermons echoed across valleys. When war threatened, its priests offered truce. When famine struck, its granaries opened.
But as the Age advanced, and the tide of progress swept across the land, Raven Crest’s unwavering devotion to the old ways became a tether. While others bent to change, Raven Crest stood still. Commerce slowed. Pilgrims came fewer. And the eyes of the world turned elsewhere toward gold, power, and ambition.
Yet Raven Crest did not crumble. It simply grew quieter. Its steeples still stand. Its halls still open. And though its voice may not command the continent, it still speaks to those willing to listen.
The Laws of Silence
Raven Crest is not a place for reckless minds or riotous hearts. It is a town of structure, of ancient codes and ceremonial rites. Outsiders are welcomed, but with firm expectation: do not break the rules. For while the people of Raven Crest offer kindness, their punishments are old, and their judgments stern.
Their justice is rooted not in vengeance, but in restoration. Offenders may find themselves cloistered in reflection, branded with truths rather than scars, or required to serve in ways that touch the spirit more than the body. These practices are seen by some as archaic but here, they are sacred.
The Enduring Flame of the Faithful
Today, Raven Crest is a place of quiet endurance. The bells still ring at dawn and dusk. The ravens still circle the chapel towers. The people still kneel at Vector’s shrine, reciting vows written before their great-great-grandparents were born.
Travelers often arrive in search of answers, or escape and many leave changed. Some find peace in the town’s stillness. Others feel suffocated by its solemnity. But all agree: Raven Crest remembers.
It remembers what it was. What it stood for. And what it still protects in a world moving too fast to notice.
The Spirit of Raven Crest
Raven Crest is not a city of ambition, but of conviction. Where Silver Watch soars and Marleme dances, Raven Crest prays. Its cobbled paths lead not to markets, but to meaning. It is not the heart of the empire. It is its soul.
“We do not rise to be seen. We remain to remind.”
So say the stone-cut letters above the great chapel gate, a message to all who enter: that Raven Crest is not here to dazzle. It is here to endure.
And endure it will.
Lockwood
The Heartbeat of Long Lake
Where the gentle waves of Long Lake kiss the southern shore and the wind carries the scent of pine and freshwater, you’ll find Lockwood a small, spirited town with a soul far larger than its borders. Cradled in a natural bay and glowing with warmth year-round, Lockwood is a place where strangers are treated like friends, and friends are treated like family. It is not a city of walls or towers but one of laughter, lanterns, and legacy.
A Ferry, A Fisherman, A Future
Lockwood is one of Gibarra’s youngest towns, founded not by noble decree or divine prophecy, but by Jason Lockwood, a humble fisherman with more heart than coin. In the early days of the 4th Age, travel around Long Lake’s vast shoreline was long, winding, and often perilous. Jason saw what others overlooked: the lake was not a barrier it was a bridge.
With nothing but a patched sail and a promise to help, Jason began ferrying travelers across the water. What started as a favor became a fixture. Word spread. Campfires turned to cabins. Travelers became townsfolk. And in the year 1C 085, Lockwood was officially born—a town rooted in kindness, practicality, and a sense of togetherness that still defines it today.
The Crossroads of the Lake
Though modest in size, Lockwood holds a unique place in Gibarra’s geography and culture. It is the gateway across Long Lake, with ferry routes leading directly to the great city of Stormpoint. What once took days by land can now be crossed in hours by water, and Lockwood stands as the vital artery between east and west.
Dozens of ships dock daily, from cargo barges to pleasure skiffs, all guided by weather-worn but cheerful captains who greet each traveler with a wave and a tale. Every pier creaks with activity, and the harbormaster’s bell rings with the rhythm of life. Lockwood may not bear the banners of the great houses, but it commands respect for one simple truth: you cannot cross Gibarra without passing through Lockwood.
The Town that Dances with the New Year
Lockwood is best known not for its trade, but for its spirit and nowhere is that more evident than during the New Year Festival. For seven nights at winter’s end, the town transforms into a glowing celebration of life, light, and legacy. Lanterns float across the lake like stars set free. Music spills from taverns and hilltops. Fireworks crackle like thunder over the water.
Travelers from across the continent arrive in Lockwood to ring in the new year, and no one leaves unchanged. The festival is a joyful reminder of Lockwood’s founding spirit: that something small can spark something spectacular.
The Soul of Lockwood
What sets Lockwood apart is not its age, size, or wealth, but its people. They are warm-hearted, quick to laugh, and proud of their home. From the dockhands who whistle while they work, to the bakers whose ovens never go cold, to the town’s storytellers who remember every name that ever mattered. Lockwood is alive with love for its own history and its ever-growing family.
The original Lockwood cabin still stands near the ferry dock, lovingly preserved as both a shrine and a meeting hall. Inside, a carved plaque bears the town’s quiet motto:
“One oar, one boat, one journey at a time.”
It is a reminder of the man who saw potential in the lake—and the people who keep his dream afloat every day.
A Place to Pass Through and Stay Forever
Lockwood may not rival the grand metropolises of Gibarra, but it does not try to. It is a town of purpose, where paths cross and lives change. It does not rise with ambition, but with joy. It does not command with power, but with welcome.
To pass through Lockwood is to feel its pulse. To stay is to become part of it.
Lake View
The Quiet Net Beneath the Mist
On the still waters of Smith Lake, where the fog drifts low and the trees press in close, lies Lake View a quiet, unassuming fishing village that seems more whispered than spoken. It does not call attention to itself, nor does it try to. Lake View endures, not through might or trade, but through resilience, routine, and the cold, clean pull of the lake.
To many, it is little more than a pause on the road. But to those who stay, those who see past the peeling paint and watch the sun rise through the lake mist it becomes something unforgettable.
A Village Born of Silence
Lake View traces its roots far deeper than its modest appearance suggests. In the latter half of the Second Age, a man named Gustaf Klingensmith and a band of weary adventurers stumbled upon the lake’s southern edge, searching not for glory, but for peace. What they found was a mirror-like lake brimming with fish and shadowed by pine-covered slopes. Here, they laid down their swords, built cabins, and gave up the noise of the world.
For many years, the settlement had no name just a place for quiet people to live quiet lives. Its founders asked for nothing from the world and expected even less in return. But time, as it always does, brought change.
The Dillard Legacy and the Salmon That Changed Everything
The change came not in fire or war, but in love. Gustaf’s daughter, Victoria, married a thoughtful and enterprising man named Hector Dillard a quiet visionary with a dream no one else had seen yet. Where others saw only fish, Hector saw opportunity. Over a lifetime, he selectively bred a line of lake salmon so flavorful, so rich and tender, that even distant nobles sought it by name. He called it Gustaf Salmon, in honor of the old man who gave him a home.
The fish brought wealth—not gold, but attention. Traders arrived, kitchens praised, and slowly the unnamed village took a title of its own. In the year 6C, 042 of the Second Age, the settlement became known officially as Lake View—a name simple enough, but fitting. It was Hector’s gift to the lake that fed them, and to the man who founded it all.
The Village Beyond the Veil
Lake View is a place of contradictions. It is welcoming in time, but not at first. Strangers are met with cautious eyes and long silences. The villagers do not gossip, nor do they smile quickly, but they remember names, and they never forget kindness. To be accepted in Lake View is to be earned, not invited. But once inside, you are family.
The town itself is humble. Moss-covered roofs. Creaking boardwalks. Smoke curling from chimneys like the breath of sleeping giants. The lake is the center of everything—a mirror, a provider, and a secret-keeper. Boats leave at dawn and return before dusk, nets heavy with salmon and stories untold.
The Spirit of Lake View
There are no great monuments in Lake View. No towers, no banners, no sprawling markets. There is only the sound of water against wood, the scent of brine and pine, and the quiet thrum of a people who have found enough.
Here, life is simple, and so are its joys: a shared meal, a perfect cast, the first snow, the taste of Gustaf salmon pan-seared over open flame.
The village is still run by the Dillard family, now several generations deep. They do not lead with titles, but with example first on the boat, last to sit at the table.
And carved into the wooden arch above the lakefront dock reads the only motto they’ve ever needed:
“Let the lake provide.”
A Place Few Stay But None Forget
Lake View does not try to grow. It simply is. And that is enough.
It asks for nothing but patience, and in return, it gives something rare in this world: a peace that cannot be bought, only found.
So if you pass through Lake View, be still. Be quiet. Watch the mist roll in. You might just hear the water whisper its thanks.
Red Rock
The Loom Beneath the Mountain
At the foot of the mighty Thunder Mountain, where the earth glows with hidden stone and the wind smells of grain and morning mist, lies Red Rock a village of bounty, brilliance, and balance. Though quiet and unassuming from afar, Red Rock holds a heartbeat unlike any other in northern Gibarra. It is a place where crops sway like golden seas, herds of alpaca graze freely, and stone shimmers in the hands of patient crafters.
Red Rock does not roar it resonates.
The Village That Chose to Stay
During the chaotic surge of the Booming in the Second Age, travelers poured north in search of untouched lands and fortune. With the jagged expanse of the Thunder Mountain range forming a natural wall, many were tempted to press onward but the journey was cruel, the winds harsher still, and the land beyond uncertain.
Yet at the mountain’s base, some chose a different path—not forward, but rooted. A camp formed, meant only to serve the needs of the passing. But as time passed, and the firelight stretched longer into the valley nights, travelers became settlers.
And then came Gale Shroomin.
Gale Shroomin and the Spirit of the Soil
Gale was a humble gnome with clever hands and a farmer’s soul. Where others saw soil, he saw promise. With a few companions, he began to till, to plant, to build—not for a journey ahead, but for a life here. What was once a transient rest became a thriving pocket of permanence.
By the year 4C 095 of the Second Age, Red Rock was more than a campfire stop—it was a village of cottages, gardens, and laughter in the fields. Gale’s vision, stitched together with patience and practicality, still guides the people of Red Rock to this day.
The Jewel of the Valley
Though its rolling fields of soy, herbs, and oats feed much of the northern region, and its alpaca herds produce some of the finest yarn and woven goods in Gibarra, it is Red Rock’s Glimmerstone mines that have made the village famous.
The Glimmerstone is a rare mineral found deep within the foothills of Thunder Mountain—translucent, radiant, and kissed by hues of amethyst, sky-blue, and amber. Crafters in Red Rock have perfected the art of cutting, polishing, and setting these stones into jewelry, hairpins, charms, and ceremonial rings, often paired with fine wools dyed with natural pigments from local herbs.
These goods are sold not with the pride of a merchant, but with the care of a storyteller. Every stone has a vein. Every thread has a tale.
A Quiet Thread in the Tapestry of Gibarra
Red Rock is welcoming, but unhurried. Its people move with purpose but not urgency. They are proud of their heritage, proud of their crops, and especially proud of their alpacas—who are often treated with more patience than some visitors. The village isn’t lavish or loud, but it is whole, stitched together by family, fieldwork, and faith in the land.
Visitors are often surprised by the kindness here. Warm tea at the gate. An offered scarf. A story over stew. Red Rock may be nestled at the edge of a mountain, but it makes a home in the hearts of many.
The Spirit of Red Rock
Red Rock is more than a village. It is a rhythm—a steady hum of spinning wheels, soft bleats, clinking stone, and hands in the earth. Where others chase fortune, Red Rock simply creates it—from yarn, from soil, from stone, and from time.
Above the village square, engraved in weather-worn wood beneath a sun-faded Glimmerstone, is a line passed down since Gale’s day:
“We stopped here—and found enough.”
A Place Woven, Not Built
Red Rock does not command a region or defend a border. It tends, it mends, and it endures.
In the shadow of the Thunder Mountain, beneath the glint of buried stone, the village waits with open doors, warm yarn, and a quiet understanding:
That sometimes, the greatest journey is the choice not to leave.
Forrd
Forrd is one of largest cities in all of Gibarra, as it's a midway for all travelers going either west to Stormpoint or east to Whalebourne. As well as the famous guild The North Star calling Forrd home, this Bustling city is a traveler's delight with plenty of markets and taverns for all who need a day or two to rest. Forrd continues to grow and may even surpass Stormpoint one day. The city of Forrd is always alive and, as such, has often been named the city that never sleeps. On the outskirts is an equally growing crop production that feeds the inner city and the smaller villages around Forrd.
Its hard to believe that the bustling city of Forrd hasn't always been around, the vastly growing city has been built around the ancient group called the North Star, their founding is entirely unknown but there castle has stood the testament of time. Some can argue the group has been around since the first age built during the Eutherian and Dragon war. Regardless the Fortress was the seed that sparked the idea of growing a town along side the North Star Castle. During the Booming the central plains were a cluster of unknowns but the guild brought structure. Forrd's begins are thanks to a Goliath by the name of Bailor Stoneskin, she had come to the guild to seek refuge with her son as many other creatures big and small did the same. Bailor a simple no body found herself in a position of leadership many looked to her for guidance and she took to her new role as if it was her Destiny. Bailor guided and managed the people. The refuge slowly became a village and as they grew so did the world around them, her town was in a perfect location to connect Gibarra but all its people. After Bailors unfortunate death due to a grave sickness her son Jorgen took charge. As the town grew it was promptly named Forrd after his father who had lost his life protecting him and his mother as a way to honor his parents sacrifices. The Town of Forrd prospered and was Officially established on year 5c 082, 2nd age.
Northgrove
Capital
The Iron Heart of the North
Carved from the bone of the wild and wrapped in a mantle of snow and pine, Northgrove is a city like no other in Aetheria. Tucked deep within the boreal forests of northern Gibarra, it stands as a fortress not just of stone, but of will—a bulwark against the cold, the creatures, and the chaos of the untamed world beyond.
What began as a simple riverside campsite, little more than tents clustered around a fire, has now grown into a monolithic city-fortress, its towering stone walls stretching outward as it continues to consume the forest around it. Trees have given way to iron, and the once-silent woods now echo with the hammering of forges, the chants of warriors, and the beat of a city that refuses to die.
A City Forged by Strength and Survival
The people of Northgrove are known across Gibarra for their unyielding resolve. Life here is hard—brutal winters, prowling beasts, and isolation from the wider world keep the weak away. But for those who endure, Northgrove becomes a crucible, forging its people into steel-hearted survivors. Here, challenges are not avoided—they are hunted, bested, and worn as marks of pride.
Travel by land is slow and treacherous through the thick, dangerous woodlands that protect the region like a natural fortress. As such, the river is lifeblood—a frozen vein in the winter, a swift-moving path in spring. Many travelers, traders, and messengers rely on riverboats to make their way downstream, avoiding the lurking threats and gnarled trails that twist through the forest.
Outside the great walls, homesteads and frontier villages have begun to bloom—small pockets of civilization that stretch deeper into the wilderness. These settlements act as outposts, hunting grounds, and farmlands, all sustained by Northgrove’s protection and their own grit.
House Orthon – Blood of the North
At the heart of Northgrove’s strength lies House Orthon, an ancient bloodline of proud orcish origin, with roots stretching as far back as the First Age. Known for their honor-bound traditions and spiritual depth, the Orthons are not just rulers—they are guardians, warriors, and teachers, respected by their people and feared by their enemies.
The story of Northgrove begins in 5c 005 of the Second Age, when the Orthon family left the war-torn south and ventured north in search of a new beginning. Many warned them against the frost-bitten wilds and the monsters said to dwell within, but the Orthons saw the north not as a threat—but as a promise. They were drawn by the land’s raw, untamed spirit, and it was there that they planted the seed of a city that would outlast generations.
Now, centuries later, Northgrove is their legacy, and their blood still runs in the veins of its warriors, priests, and craftsmen.
Faith in the Wild – Spirit of the Grove
Northgrove’s people are not only warriors—they are deeply spiritual, their faith rooted not in distant gods, but in the living soul of the land itself. To live here is to honor the forest, respect the beasts, and understand the balance of life and death.
Shrines to ancient spirits and elemental forces dot the city’s streets and riverbanks. Every child is taught to revere the Great Hunt, the Cycle of the Seasons, and the Whispering Grove, where it’s said the forest itself speaks in dreams and wind.
The Orthons uphold these traditions with reverence and pride, seeing their rulership not as dominion, but stewardship—a sacred bond between people and land.
A Monument to Orcish Endurance
Northgrove is more than just a city—it is a monument to the orcish spirit: enduring, unyielding, and honorable. It stands not in defiance of the world, but as proof that strength and soul can thrive even in the harshest of places.
For those who seek challenge, who crave purpose, or who are simply looking for a place to prove themselves—Northgrove offers the forge. All you must do is survive the flame.
Pine Barrow
Pine Barrow is a very secluded village in the Northwest basin of the Whitestone Mountains. The people here are a hardy group that endures almost year-round snow. Despite this, the people have found ways to survive and thrive. The village gets few visitors as it is very out of the way, but its surprising numbers keep it on the map. Despite is small size Pine Barrow is very important it was first established back in the 3rd Age during Torrvan's war with the south, it was a troop camp built to hold valuables if he was ever too fall. Many of Torrvans most loyal followers fell back to this camp. The Orthon family saw to end all that Torvvan stood for and bring back the honor lost to their house name and when to the camp to destroy it. What little members remained fled into the Frozen North, as a precaution the Camp became a small town established in 1c 006, 4th age where Soldiers and volunteers live ever vigilant of any threats that loom.
Elder Hold Ruins
Elder Hold Ruins is thought to be a cursed land as it has stood the testaments of time first built by the Eutherians. Following the First age War the mighty castle now lay a Ruins in the far northeast by the ice caps. During the Booming many who continued North found the looming structure and used it as shelter. from here Many never left using the existing infrastructure the once dead Castle came alive once again. A Goliath by the name of Ja'Karr was first to seem the possibilities of the castle, and with his vision the castle became a stronghold or prison, his idea brough revenue as all lords who wished to rid them selves of the thieves and crooks sent them north to Ja'Karr. As more were sent north more ultimately called the Castle home and a town grew around it. By no means is Elderhold Ruins a lovely town but its name alone can send fear down any ones spine. Its said that once locked away you'll never leave, even in death your ghost is forever locked behind the Stone walls. The very Fortress even has a old folk song tat child sing to help pass the time. Elder Hold ruin became a fortress prison back in 5c o47, 2nd Age, but was a recognized town till 6c 012, 2nd age.
Whalebourne
Capital
The Shining Port of the East
Resting like a jewel upon the tropical eastern coast of Gibarra, the bustling city of Whalebourne stands as Aetheria’s great naval capital—a place where the sea meets civilization, and the hum of commerce never sleeps. Known for its unmatched maritime trade, multicultural population, and dazzling oceanic architecture, Whalebourne is more than a city—it is the lifeblood of Gibarra’s eastern trade and the pride of House Sylla.
A City Carved by Tide and Time
Once little more than a pirate outpost hidden among rocky coves, Whalebourne has grown into a sprawling, thriving metropolis that serves as the primary gateway to the eastern seas. Its growth has been nothing short of phenomenal—today, it stretches from the crystal-blue shoreline to the sea breeze kissed rolling hills in the west, bustling harbors, and sea-washed terraces forming a cityscape of constant motion and radiant energy.
At the heart of the harbor, ships of every shape and size dock daily, unloading exotic goods from faraway continents or preparing for voyages across the Derdeen Sea. Whalebourne now handles more than 80% of all overseas trade entering and leaving Gibarra. From silks and spices, to arcane relics and alchemical reagents—if it exists, it passes through Whalebourne’s docks.
The Temple of Mazu & Castle Sylla
Two monuments define the city's skyline and symbolize its past, present, and future:
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Castle Sylla, an architectural marvel of white stone and golden trim, perched like a lighthouse above the sea, stands as the proud seat of House Sylla. Built with both elegance and defense in mind, it watches over the city like a sentinel—its high towers wrapped in flowering vines, its walls etched with carvings that tell the Sylla family’s long journey from merchants to nobility.
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The Temple of Mazu, goddess of the sea, is one of the most sacred and unique sites in all of Aetheria. Designed with divine intention, water flows directly through the temple’s lower halls, creating an inner waterway where ships may pass through to receive blessings before departure. Sailors come from all corners of the world to offer tribute at her shrine, believing the ocean’s favor is the difference between life and death.
A Market Without End
Whalebourne’s streets are lined with colorful banners, spice-scented stalls, and the voices of dozens of languages. Merchants from Dornn, Valain, the Shattered Isles, and beyond trade in everything from fine jewelry and magical wares to imported fruits and enchanted beasts. Entire districts have evolved around trade specialization—Goldstrand Market for luxury goods, Lowwharf for rougher black-market trade, and The Windwalk, a high street that runs directly along the sea cliffs, known for its breathtaking views and high-end boutiques.
The city’s population has surged over the centuries—what once housed a few hundred now supports nearly half a million souls, from nobles and guildmasters to pirates-turned-politicians and wanderers seeking fortune. Whalebourne's open ports have made it one of the most culturally diverse places in Aetheria.
A Legacy Born in Fire and Salt
The story of Whalebourne begins in 4c 088 of the Second Age, with two brothers: Gale and Braum Sylla. After losing their family to a pirate raid, the brothers—not warriors, but humble tradesmen—gathered what farmers, leatherworkers, and blacksmiths they could and launched a daring siege against the very camp where their lives had been shattered. Against all odds, they won.
What was once a lawless pirate den became a place of purpose. The brothers renamed it Whalebourne, for the great whale that washed ashore during their victory feast, which they saw as a sign of Mazu’s blessing. From those early days of rebuilding, House Sylla was born—not of bloodlines and blades, but of resilience, trade, and vision.
A City of Opportunity and Intrigue
Today, Whalebourne is a city of opportunity. For sailors, it is a safe harbor. For merchants, it is a golden road. For adventurers, it is the place where quests begin and legends rise. But beneath the gleaming surface lies a tangle of guild rivalries, black market politics, and whispered rumors of rising pirate lords seeking to reclaim what was once theirs.
Still, the city endures, driven by House Sylla’s cunning diplomacy and relentless innovation. Though many noble houses underestimate them for their merchant origins, those who cross Sylla rarely do so twice.
Whalebourne Today
What began as an act of vengeance has become the eastern jewel of Aetheria, a city built not by kings, but by those who dared to dream bigger than the world would allow.
Here, in the city where sea and land meet, the tides carry more than ships—they carry stories, fortunes, and destinies.
Welcome to Whalebourne. May the ocean favor your steps.
Saltcoast
The Great City Of Saltcoast, Saltcoast is a port town, but on a smaller scale down in the south deserts of Gibarra, the Limestone Cliffs are soft and erode quickly. Much of the city has been lost to the sea, and the city itself may disappear in the future. Saltcoast sits in a more air location than the rest of Gibarra's Inhabits; as such, the people here are built differently. Although Saltcoast cons, it's an energetic place, where the locals are known for their beautiful glasswork and some of the best fishing in the South. What makes Saltcoats Truly stand out is the Lilith Coliseum.
Beach Hollow
Beach Hollow is located on Sahosa Island, just west of Salt Coast and north of green bay; many do not travel to Beach Hollow as it's more of a destination trip. The people here are surprisingly lively as the majority who call this part of the island home are halflings! Despite its small size the town of Beachhollow is rich with song, dance, and food.
Green Bay
Green Bay is the largest village on Sahosa Island. Here, it's more of a vacation spot for nobles seeking escape. Despite the little human interaction, the people here thrive off what the island can provide; despite the lack of outside interaction, the native buildings are impressive.
Kh'alahan & Fort Astragoth
Capital
Stoneborn Legacy of the Dwarves
In the northern crags of Valain, carved into the unyielding stone of the Dwarn Mountain Range, lies the great dwarven capital of Kh’alahan, nestled at the foot of the impenetrable bastion known as Fort Astragoth. Together, these twin marvels form the ancestral home of the dwarves and serve as the heart of House Onyxbrow, one of the oldest and most storied noble lines in all of Aetheria.
Built in the First Age, Kh’alahan and Fort Astragoth are among the oldest living cities still in use across the world. Unlike other cities that have risen and fallen with the ages, the bones of Kh’alahan have never cracked, and its people have never wavered.
Kh’alahan – The City of Stone and Fire
Beneath the towering cliffs and ever-snowcapped peaks, Kh’alahan thrives as a symbol of dwarven endurance and ingenuity. The lower city, open to all peoples, is a vibrant hub of commerce and craftsmanship. Its cobblestone streets echo with the sound of hammers, the hiss of forges, and the chants of dwarven workers who still honor the old ways with every strike.
Here, merchants from across Aetheria come to trade for weapons of legend, tools of unmatched precision, and jewelry so fine it could make an elven lord weep. The city is the backbone of noble craftsmanship, and many ruling houses rely on Kh’alahan’s artisans for their gear, armaments, and heirlooms.
Every home, every beam, every pillar within the city is a work of pride and permanence, hand-carved by dwarves over generations. Murals of battles past, statues of great kings, and rune-etched halls speak of a people who remember everything—and forget nothing.
Fort Astragoth – The Undying Citadel
Above the city, carved directly into the mountain face, sits the imposing stronghold of Fort Astragoth—the ancestral seat of House Onyxbrow, and a structure as eternal as the stone it was born from. Its black iron gates are flanked by ancient runic guardians, and its walls are said to be infused with forgotten magics and fire-forged ore, resistant to both age and assault.
Only those of dwarven descent are permitted beyond its gates, a sacred tradition upheld since the First Age. To step inside Fort Astragoth is to walk among the tombs of kings, the blueprints of ancient war-machines, and the great archives of dwarven knowledge—secrets not meant for outside eyes.
For non-dwarves who seek to glimpse the heart of the fortress, special permission must be granted by the reigning King or Queen of the Onyxbrow line—a rare and hard-won honor.
House Onyxbrow – Forged in Flame and Stone
House Onyxbrow is as much a part of the mountain as the fort itself. With a lineage that stretches back to the first smiths and rune priests, the house has stood through wars, plagues, and the rise and fall of empires. They are stoic, wise, and relentless, placing tradition, craftsmanship, and family above all else.
Their sigil, a hammer striking an obsidian anvil beneath a mountain peak, is seen everywhere—from banners in the lower city to the etched gates of the fort. The current ruler is King Durvyn Onyxbrow, a seasoned warrior-smith known for his wisdom and his unyielding defense of dwarven independence.
A City Rich in History and Adventure
Kh’alahan is a treasure trove for scholars, adventurers, and lore seekers alike. From forgotten ruins buried beneath the foundations to the ancient Dwarven Libraries guarded by rune-bound constructs, there is no shortage of mysteries for those brave enough to delve.
Tales are whispered of hidden vaults sealed since the Age of Fire, forges that burn with the last embers of a dying god, and artifacts so powerful they were locked away forever. For all its stone and steel, Kh’alahan is still alive with secrets waiting to be unearthed.
Kh’alahan & Fort Astragoth Today
Though the world above changes, the halls of Kh’alahan remain steady, eternal, and proud. It is a place where the forge never cools, where tradition still holds meaning, and where the mountains speak in echoes of old songs.
To walk its streets is to feel the weight of ages.
To be welcomed into its walls is an honor.
To be remembered here… is to be immortal.
The Red Keep
The Red keep is a well hidden Fortress deep in the Dwarn Mt. range. Not much is truly known about this place. The rumors are this is the birthplace of all Warforged but the dwarves are very secretive of there creations to avoid replication. As the path to the Red Keep is long destroyed the only way to access's the lost city is through the mountain pass or the mines as its believed the 2 fortresses are inter connected. The Red Keep is heavily guarded and not many even dwarves have step foot in this fortress since is was locked away after the Dwarven Civil war ended.
EdgeWarf
Edgewarf is a small village in the far north of Valain. Here the people are experience harsh winters and short summers. The city is built off the 3 lakes, the lakes provide food to the locals but also doom them as the ice cold waters create lots of ice storms.
North Slums
The Norths slums is a barren place and for many a haunting reminder of the tides of war, back in the 3rd age North slums was created as a concentration camp for any one who apposed the self proclaimed king of the dwarves, after the war ended many of the people left in the camp hade no where to go and as such had to make due with what was provided, North slums as become a place for the unwanted.
Marleme
Capital
The Blooming Heart of Valain
Nestled on the eastern edge of the Nerelli Rainforest, where the thick green canopy begins to thin and the jungle mist gives way to open sky, lies the lush, radiant city of Marleme. Alive with color, music, and joy, Marleme is often called “The City of Petals” by travelers and poets alike. It is one of the few cities in Valain where anyone is welcome, regardless of race, creed, or origin—a beacon of openness in a continent often known for its seclusion and guarded traditions.
A Living Tapestry of Cultures
Marleme is a vibrant, ever-moving city, with winding vine-laced streets, colorful cloth banners that flutter from rooftop to rooftop, and music that echoes from every corner, morning to midnight. Artisans, traders, scholars, and pilgrims from every part of Aetheria pass through its gates, and many end up staying, swept up by the city’s warmth and rhythm.
The inner city is a true melting pot, unlike much of Valain, which is often insular and tribal. In Marleme, Loxodon chefs cook beside human musicians, dragonborn dancers perform with Tabaxi drummers, and Hobgoblin alchemists trade with Dwarven jewelers. Every plaza is a celebration, every alley a story waiting to unfold.
And when night falls, Marleme glows like a constellation laid upon the earth. Bioluminescent moss lines the city’s stone walls, while enchanted lanterns sway like fireflies, bathing the streets in soft hues of blue, gold, and green.
The Rule of House Wormwood
Marleme is governed by the benevolent and wise House Wormwood, a noble Loxodon bloodline revered for their dedication to peace, life, and balance with nature. Unlike most noble houses, the Wormwoods do not rule from a throne, but rather guide through council, consensus, and sacred tradition.
The centerpiece of their leadership is the Wormwood Temple, a grand, ivy-covered structure that serves not only as a spiritual haven but as the heart of the city's cultural and political life. Its great central chamber is open to the public, filled with gardens, pools, and resonating chimes that echo with calming magic. The temple itself is said to be built on a place of old power, where the rainforest once sang with primal energy.
Each spring, during the Festival of Renewal, the temple and the entire city erupt in celebration. Flowers bloom overnight through enchanted seed rites, street performers fill every corner, and visitors from across Aetheria come to witness the magic of Marleme in full bloom.
The Founding of Marleme – A Forest’s Mercy
Long before Marleme was the glowing jewel it is today, the land it stands on was a battlefield between warring jungle tribes and encroaching settlers during the 5c of the Second Age. Amid the bloodshed, an ancient Loxodon mystic named Arvani Wormwood arrived with a vision of unity and healing. Guided by a dream from an ancient forest spirit, Arvani stood between the clashing forces and demanded peace—not with weapons, but with wisdom.
Legend tells that on the day the final battle was meant to take place, the jungle itself intervened. Vines rose from the earth to stop weapons mid-strike. Wild beasts gathered in silence, staring down both sides. The rain fell gently, and the earth hummed with a power so ancient it silenced all in its presence.
Arvani declared the spot sacred, and with the support of both sides, he planted the Heartseed Tree—a mystical seed given to him in the dream. Where it grew, Marleme began. A city of peace, for all people. A city born not of conquest, but of mercy, music, and magic. On 5c 032 Second age Marleme was founded.
The Spirit of Marleme Today
Modern Marleme still echoes with Arvani’s dream. Its people are passionate and free-spirited, their culture shaped by the belief that life is to be celebrated, not merely endured. Education, music, and hospitality are held as sacred values, and many young adventurers begin their journey here—drawn by the stories, the color, and the open arms.
But while Marleme is a city of light, it is not without shadow. Outside its walls, the rainforest stirs, ancient and wild. And some say the Heartseed Tree in the Temple gardens grows restless, as if remembering the blood once shed upon the land.
Still, within the city walls, the celebration continues.
Because in Marleme, every voice matters, every heart is welcome, and the city will always dance to the rhythm of life.
Delta Marsh
Capital
The Heart of Humanity in Valain
Tucked just northwest of Marleme, where the tangled rainforests of Valain give way to wide-open wetlands and fertile floodplains, lies the industrious city of Delta Marsh. As the largest human-led settlement in all of Valain, Delta Marsh stands as a monument to grit, growth, and perseverance—a shining example that hard work can tame even the wildest lands.
Here, the noble House Quinn governs not from a throne of gold, but from the very soil they worked with their own hands. The people of Delta Marsh are farmers, fishers, cultivators, and craftsmen, and they wear their labor like armor. The city hums not with songs or magic, but with the steady rhythm of boots in mud, carts on planks, and tools on wood.
A Working City, Built by Calloused Hands
Delta Marsh is no place for idleness. Its streets are lined with barley carts and fishmongers, its harbors filled with flat-bottomed boats and harvest barges. Raised wooden walkways crisscross over the murky ground, connecting homes, markets, and mills built on stilts above the marsh waters. The air carries the scent of wet earth, fresh grain, and roasted root vegetables, and the songs heard here are working chants and river ballads, not minstrel tunes.
The city’s identity is deeply woven into sustaining the continent—producing massive quantities of rice, vegetables, freshwater fish, and medicinal herbs that are traded across Valain and beyond. Delta Marsh is a lifeline, and everyone here knows that their labor feeds the world.
The Quinn Manor – Seat of the People’s Nobility
At the center of the city rises the Quinn Manor, a grand yet humble estate built with thick blackwood beams and red-tiled roofs, nestled atop a wide earthen rise known as The Dryback. Though stately, the manor is less a symbol of power and more a hall of collaboration and stewardship.
Here, House Quinn hosts emissaries from across Aetheria, negotiates new trade routes, drafts agricultural pacts, and oversees seasonal planting festivals and flood protections. The manor is also a gathering place for the people—a site of communal meetings, educational forums, and emergency refuge during seasonal surges in the marshes.
Founding of Delta Marsh – The Stubborn Seeds of Survival
The tale of Delta Marsh begins in the late Second Age, when the rainforests to the south were already dominated by scattered beast clans and dense tribal territories. Few dared to travel north into the sodden floodplains, believing the land too wet, wild, and unyielding to support any lasting settlement.
But then came Elias Quinn, a second-born son of a minor noble family in eastern Gibarra—a man with no titles, no lands, and no chance of inheritance. With little more than a mule, a small group of loyal followers, and a vision for something greater, Elias journeyed into Valain seeking a place where a name could be earned, not inherited.
Where others saw mud and ruin, Elias saw rich black soil, natural irrigation, and untapped bounty. He and his people built levees by hand, dug out their first rice paddies, and constructed shelters on stilts above the waterlogged ground. The first years were brutal—floods, fever, beasts—but the settlers endured.
The turning point came when Elias found a way to tame the floods, using ancient techniques learned from a wandering druid and local Lizardfolk. Through a system of sluices and earth walls, the marsh began to yield. Crops grew. Trade followed. And within decades, Delta Marsh bloomed.
Elias never claimed the title of lord. But when he died, the people he served named his family the House of Quinn, in honor of his unwavering commitment to building not just a city, but a future.
The Spirit of Delta Marsh Today
House Quinn continues to carry that legacy: nobles of the land, but never above the people. They walk the fields with their farmers, eat with their citizens, and govern with pragmatism and pride.
While some view the city as humble compared to the grand towers of Marleme or the fortified halls of Fort Astragoth, no one questions its importance. Delta Marsh feeds the continent, and those who dwell there take immense pride in being the backbone of Valain.
“Honor the Seed, Earn the Harvest”
A common saying in Delta Marsh, passed down from the early days of Elias Quinn. It still echoes in every field, every canal, and every deal brokered from Quinn Manor.
Delta Marsh is not just a city—it’s a promise.
That through patience, purpose, and hard work, even the wildest land can bloom.
Nessy
Nessy is a large village northeast of Delta Marsh, run by the Wormwood house. Nessy is a port town off the golf in the swamps; it is a place for travelers crossing the Derdeen Sea as a safe refuge and giving Marleme port access. Nessy is unique in that it is a Tortole ran village.
Zubi
Zubi is, in recent years, now considered a village, once a tribe, now a growing village. Zubi is unique as it has been built off the ground using massive roots and tree branches and their foundation, as well as being built off a waterfall Zubi is a very secure village. Zubi is not welcome to humans or humanoid creatures as the locals still grudge against nonlocals. Almost all the residents of Zubi are fearsome warriors who value strength. This village is one place you want to avoid getting lost in.
Silver Watch
Capital
The Mile High Sentinel of the South
Far to the southeast of Valain, where sheer ocean cliffs rise like sharpened blades against the wind, stands Silver Watch, the famed Mile High City. Perched along the jagged coastline, this awe-inspiring settlement balances between peril and potential, its roots clinging to the stone as fiercely as its people cling to ambition. It is a place of salt-stained stone, soaring architecture, and sea-swept dreams a city shaped not by gentleness, but by survival.
A City Born of Wreckage
Silver Watch began not as a grand vision, but as a desperate campfire flickering on the edge of oblivion. The original founders were a band of castaways, their vessel wrecked along the treacherous cliffside during a storm that shattered both ship and spirit. With nowhere to go but up, they scaled the cliffs and dug into the rock itself, carving shelters from stone and driftwood. Many expected them to perish. Instead, they endured, and then they built.
Generations later, the cliffs that nearly claimed their lives now serve as the foundation of one of the fastest-growing cities in Valain. The vertical sprawl of Silver Watch rises in terraces and platforms, suspended walkways and cliffside elevators, a testament to ingenuity and resilience. What was once a broken refuge is now a beacon for bold traders, explorers, engineers, and outcasts who believe that greatness is worth climbing for.
House Tully — The Claw on the Wind
Silver Watch is governed by House Tully, a noble Tabaxi family whose ancestors were among the first to scale the cliffs and claim the heights. Agile, cunning, and endlessly ambitious, House Tully is both merchant prince and city steward, guiding Silver Watch not with soft words but with sharp instincts.
Their banner, a Roaring Lion adorned over the yellow Horizon is a symbol to their perseverance. House Tully does not rule from gilded thrones, but from wind-battered terraces and bustling trade halls, always with a keen eye on both the sea and the sky. They have forged alliances, crushed pirate threats, and built the city into what it is today: the premier southern port of Valain.
The Heart of Southern Trade
Silver Watch is a hub of commerce, culture, and calculated risk. Its cliff-tiered harbors, supported by reinforced platforms and ancient sea hooks, welcome vessels from Dornn, the Shattered Isles, and even the distant eastern kingdoms. It has become the largest trader of Dornnish products in all of Valain—offloading everything from crimson silk and saltstone to rare liquors and rune-etched steel.
Markets bustle day and night across the winding tiers, filled with goods, tongues, and traditions from every corner of Aetheria. Here, one might find a dwarven smelter beside a jungle-born apothecary, or a sea captain haggling with a skyship courier. The city is alive with movement, trade, and noise—held together by the rhythm of opportunity.
A City of Grit, Stone, and Sky
Life in Silver Watch is not easy. The city’s terrain is harsh, and its architecture clings to cliff faces like moss on stone. Towering windmills catch the sea breeze to power lifts and water pumps; reinforced rope bridges sway between districts suspended over sheer drops. Yet the people here wear their environment like armor. They are climbers, builders, and survivors—equal parts daring and driven.
There is little room for complacency on the cliffs. Whether unloading crates, scaling walls, or repairing wind-torn platforms, the people of Silver Watch know that to live here is to earn it every day.
The Spirit of Silver Watch
What truly defines Silver Watch is its soul: a community of wanderers, survivors, and dreamers drawn by the challenge and promise of something greater. It is a city of newcomers—of those cast out or cast away—who find in the heights a place to rise.
Unlike the courtly splendor of Marleme or the marsh-born grit of Delta Marsh, Silver Watch is built on ambition, risk, and reinvention. It does not boast ancient temples or sacred traditions—but it does promise one thing: a chance. A chance to climb. A chance to start over. A chance to build something unforgettable from the edge of the world.
“We were born in the wreckage. Now we rise in stone.”
A saying among the cliffborn folk of Silver Watch, etched into harbor walls and whispered in every tavern perched on the wind.
Silver Watch is not just a city—it’s a challenge.
One the bold are willing to meet.
Jade City
Captial
Jade City — The Sunborn Throne of Dornn
“Built by gods, ruled by light, and raised to touch the heavens.”
Rising from the heart of Dornn like a colossus carved by the very sun, Jade City stands not as a city, but as an empire of emerald stone and golden ambition. Towering over the land upon a 500-foot-tall foundation of sun-blessed stone, it gleams with unmatched splendor, drawing awe and reverence from all corners of Aetheria. This is the seat of power, the jewel of the south, the living heart of the Khafra Daora, the Children of the Sun—and rulers of Dornn.
It is said that when the gods first blessed the mortal world, they poured their favor into the land now called Jade City, willing it into glory. Whether myth or truth, none deny its magnificence.
An Empire Carved in Tiers of Power
Jade City is unlike any settlement across the continent. It is a layered kingdom, sculpted into three vast levels, each more elevated—both physically and politically—than the last:
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The Third Level ( The Sandstones )
The city’s base layer, nestled directly upon the vast stone foundation, is a sprawling and shadowed district. Here dwell the poor, the forgotten, the laborers who bear the city's weight literally and figuratively. The sun touches this level only in narrow shafts between jade pillars, but its people burn with their own quiet fire. Markets, foundries, and tenements stretch endlessly across this undercity, a dense warren of necessity and survival. It is said that some never leave the Deep Quarter in their entire lives. Though even here, the majesty of the Jade City looms above as a constant reminder of what lies beyond. -
The Second Level ( The Emerald Vein )
Above the shadowed base rises the living heart of Jade City a vast, radiant expanse of winding streets, suspended gardens, crystalline canals, and golden-domed marketplaces. This is where the majority of the population lives and thrives. Homes built of green-veined stone rest beneath arched causeways covered in hanging vines. Singing birds nest in the trees of terraced courtyards, and perfumed breezes drift through open plazas. Life here pulses with elegance and energy, a place where the arts, education, and commerce blossom. This level connects the people with power, the past with progress. -
The First Level ( The Celestial Crown )
Crowning the city like a temple on the peak of the world, the highest tier is a realm of breathtaking wonder and unassailable authority. Only the most powerful—nobles, dignitaries, foreign emissaries, and the bloodline of Khafra Daora walk its radiant halls. Here rise towers clad in sun-gold and jade, bridges carved with celestial glyphs, and great halls where rulers pass judgment and shape the fate of empires. It is from this level that Dornn is governed and its influence felt across the world.
The Khafra Daora — Children of the Sun
At the core of this monumental city reigns House Khafra Daora, a noble dynasty as ancient as the stone that upholds Jade City itself. Descended from what many believe to be god-blooded ancestors, they are revered not only as monarchs but as sunborn, chosen to rule by divine will.
Clad in robes of white, gold, and green, their presence is a symbol of unity and power. Their word is law, their gaze absolute. And while other noble houses rise and fall, the Khafra Daora have endured every age, war, famine, rebellion—burning ever brighter. Their rule is both feared and honored, their will shaping everything from imperial trade routes to continental alliances.
The Monument of the Age
Jade City is the largest standing structure in the current age, its scale beyond comprehension. From afar, it appears as a mountain sculpted by civilization. A massive stepped pyramid stretching into the heavens, its tiers wrapped in terraces, aqueducts, guard walls, and domed sanctuaries. In the sunlight, it shines like a beacon; in the moonlight, it glows with a faint inner luminance, as if lit from within by the sun’s memory.
Scholars, engineers, and mystics have studied its design for generations, calling it a living monument of both divine inspiration and mortal will. It is more than a city—it is a symbol. One that speaks of Dornn’s power, its faith, and its unyielding command over both land and people.
Legacy and Reach of the Empire
Jade City’s influence stretches beyond its walls. Its courts dictate law for hundreds of leagues. Its scholars write the histories taught in distant provinces. Its army, clad in emerald-scaled armor, stands as one of the most disciplined in Aetheria. From the deserts of eastern Dornn to the humid jungles of Valain, all pay tribute to the city on the sunlit stone.
Ships bearing the Jade Seal dock in every major harbor. Artisans across the realm strive to mimic the city’s craftsmanship. Even the rival courts of the North whisper in wary awe of its unstoppable expansion.
The Soul of the Jade City
Despite its grandeur, Jade City is more than opulence. It is a place of hierarchy and harmony, where every stone, every tier, every soul has its place in the sun. It is a city where ambition is forged from stone and legacy is etched into every step. It is a place where legends are born, and destinies ascend.
To live in Jade City is to serve something greater. To walk its streets is to feel history beneath your feet and eternity overhead.
“As the Sun rises, so does Dornn.”
Inscribed at the base of the Grand Sunspire, carved in goldleaf and jade.
Jade City is not just a capital—it is the soul of an empire.
A shining, immovable monument to the might and majesty of the Children of the Sun.
Dragon Barrow
Dragon Barrow is the Sister city to jade city Across the jade gulf; with Dragon Barrow connected to the sea, it's the only way most imported goods get into Dornn. This Colorful city is also under the rule of the Khafra Daora and, as such, shares the same rules and regulations. Dragon Barrow is quickly growing as more and more folk to Dornn. The city is constantly alive as ships in and out constantly flow people and goods.
Little Rock
Little Rock is the 3rd and Smallest city, run by the Khafra Daora; just a couple miles from Dragon barrow, this city lives in the shadow of the larger cities just west. Despite this, the people of little rock enjoy the quieter lifestyle, and here they focus on the little things.
Shadow Band
Shadow band is a small free city in the far south west of Dornn, here the people fight for survival with the constant threat of the Khafra Daora's hold creeps toward them. Being so far from the rest of the world has made the people here distant and lost from the rest of the world.
Sandstone
Sandstone was once a Growing city that the rebellion against the Khafra Daora called home until the location of this city was leaked, and the army of the sun came with a vengeance destroying much of the city and killing hundreds to end the rebellion; now Sandstone is a shadow of what it was. The rebellion persists even after this grave defeat.
Rock Port
Rock port is Found on the most significant island west in the Derdeen sea. As the Nobel House, Lyena Works hard to turn this dead and abandoned island into a thriving city. Rock Port is the largest producer of seafood goods as the house has a very effective old trick. The island brings plenty as the ruins of the original city are quite the sight for sight seekers or adventures looking for lost goods and history.
leon
Leon, just west of Aeros. Leon is a thriving town built as a resting town for many sailors, traders, and travelers. The Leader of Leon is a half-elf by the name of Varin. Varin has no proper house and is a self-built man. Many respect him because his vision made Leon such a quickly growing place. Leon continues to grow and pull more and more people to not only drive his business but grow the community.
Aeros
Aeros is a free city with no true leader. It functions more as a trading town. Many people who visit Aeros are either stopping to collect and or drop off goods and then moving on or getting people from one island to the other. So, with the constant influx of people, the city thrives off of the lack of government, Aeros is constantly growing and has consumed multiple islands
Pirates Cove
Pirates Cove is not a Recognized town, but many know of pirates cove; the location of pirates cove is hidden as only those with the correct coordinates can navigate the treacherous waters surrounding the island. Here all kinds of sum plan, loot, murder, and honestly do as they please Here, it's a free for all, despite the lows it's safe from the Nobel houses that hunt them down.
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