Cyllinys

The Webs of Tethe'alla

What to see in Tethe'alla Cendriane A remnant of the Feywild’s past, Cendriane exists as the ruins of a once mystical eladrin city. Deep in the heart of a once flourishing forest, crystal spires once glistened with starlight as they emerged from the treetops. Now it is as dark and decrepit as those who inhabit the city, but that is not where the oddities of Cendriane end. The city thrums with arcane energy, allowing it to exist within the Feywild and the Material Plane simultaneously.

Everbloom Everbloom, true to its name, is a forest that lives in a perpetual state of blossom. Regardless of where the forest is found, whether summer, winter, autumn, or spring, there is a serene beauty that remains untouched. However that is not where the wonders of Everbloom end, this lush forest is also known as the sole living forest in all of Cyllinys.

As a living forest, every tree is awakened under the protective gnarled roots of They of Bark. This allows the entire forest to freely roam as the desire. Countless fey have come to rest against a tree, only to wake up in the middle of a massive clearing with not a single tree in sight.

Other creatures and animals are allowed within Everbloom, but the moment anything comes to harm a tree they find themselves quickly crushed under root and branch.

The Murkendraw If the entire world were a soup, the Murkendraw would be the festering eyeball slipped into the cauldron. It is a blight ridden swamp, where the brightness of the realm is choked out by fetid waters. The creatures that lurk within this ocean-sized marsh thrive on sinister means, from assassin vines that ambush and choke to horse-sized stirges that drain blood in seconds.

The Murkendraw is caught in neverending storms, their bellowing thunder shaking the ground with the force of an earthquake. The landscape of the swamp is ever shifting, resulting in portions of quicksand or uneven ground that quickly gives way underfoot.

Hags take to the Murkendraw like a satyr takes to music. It provides the ideal environment for their huts and rituals to be conducted. The Murkendraw exists beyond the reach of the eladrin, and indeed beyond both redemption and any threats that would harm the essence of the marsh. Because of this, a number of illicit trade routes, known as the Murkroot Trade Moot, allow for purveyors of unusual items, poisons, and mercenaries to be traded in exchange for favors or trinkets.

The Tsardom of Vydínnja
Vale of the Long Night the Vale of the Long Night is the largest Winter-claimed territory. The rolling hills are buried under the blustering snowy winds, where the only significant landmarks are structures of pure ice jutting out of the snow. The Vale of the Long Night is a harsh domain, and so the eladrin who call the vale their home are grim survivalists and often hermits themselves.

Logic and level heads prevail in the Vale of the Long Night, something most winter eladrin take to heart. There is a promise among fey creatures within the vale that when emotions begin to dictate their actions, they spill three drops of blood onto the pristine snow in homage to the Price of Frost, whose frozen heart prevents them from further bleeding. \ Dearmad Glasrún’s sunny coastal plains are where Dearmad (DARmud) rests. Dearmad’s title, the “Forgotten City,” is an old Glasrúnish joke; when Baron Gocaire the First gave up Glasrún, he was unaware of the idyllic land on which the city now stands. The farms of Dearmad are some of the most fertile in the world. Exports feed the free Allemagnians throughout the forest.

The Dearmad people are ideological opposites of their neighbors in Barraille. Pacifism runs strong in the city, and the live-and-let-live attitude of Dearmad tempers the revolutionary ambitions of some leaders in Daltiarna. War is recent in everyone’s mind, and few are eager to take up arms against their fellow beasts and brethren. This is as true in Glasrún as anywhere else.

Dearmad is the only urban community in the Beast World with a close relationship with druids. Their gentle treatment of the land surrounding the city attracted the curiosity of its steward druids. Dearmad farms use magic and inventive agriculture to feed thousands without harming the tilled earth. Delver caravans would be impossible without the efficiency lessons learned by the city.

Madroileán The Isle of Dogs Madroileán (MADrullahn) is the largest island in Glasrún. Several fishing towns and villages circle its shores, all of them sharing both the island’s name and the farmland in its center. Fishing is a lucrative industry, but life on the Isle of Dogs is also a unique challenge.

Weird things happen in Madroileán. The monsters and mayhem of the Dungeon are just everyday life to its residents. After all, its fishers have been dealing with Dungeon-flavored strangeness all their lives; the stories are as old as the region itself. Villagers on the island are armed at all times, and by the time one reaches the age of twenty, they’ve usually had an experience fighting a monster or disarming the traps set by one.

Some cosmologists theorize Madroileán is the site of a miniature Dungeon of its own. Others attribute the oddities to some quirk of the Arcana, a necessary outlet for its unpredictability. Conspiracy theorists, especially in Barraille, believe that the royals of Allemance are terrorizing the island with secret magic.

Whatever the case, every day on Madroileán is interesting, and its people seem to like it that way.