😅one more

Mr @Quenten sent me new zone from Godtagel Region on Peredur Continent.

Finish regional map to start new local maps.

Elfs and Half elfs living in the deep of Godtagel Valley having Lich Lord neighbor with his cursed lands and humans from Siwella, pearl of the North.

Monasteries of Demelza, on Arthec lands, local of traditional and maybe obscure knowledges.

Very busy bay to the fishermans between Merdvoren and Cingur and many ports to sail North.

Library of Cantgethen, forbiden place to visitors.

Sail north from Trustran with the danger to know the Serpent Reef.

And the mithic islands of Hy Brazil, local of happyness and pleasure. No one come back from there to tell more.

Cheers

Good place for a tired adventure with backpain :(

I made this map some time ago, maybe it will help as a reference.

Cheers

2 beautiful A0 plastic plotter resistant to everything, including a game session.

Cheers

Orenshire

This was once a bustling village, where kilns burned restlessly, shaping soft clay into sturdy tiles and exquisite pottery. The clay, mined from local quarries, was renowned for its reddish hue and malleable texture, making the town a small but thriving crafts centre. Small boats glided down the Slimy River, laden with goods that were bound for Ironvale before heading north for markets.

Then came the catastrophe. The tremors opened deep crevasses, sucking up the groundwater and leaving the land parched and barren. The river became a rotting watercourse, its black, oily waters swallowing the boats that once carried the town’s livelihood. Disease spread like wildfire, claiming lives in despair. Many fled, but those who stayed… changed. Today, just over two hundred souls inhabit this place, dragging themselves through indistinct days, trapped in a fog of resignation. Their eyes wander unfocused, their mouths murmur incoherent words, as if trying to remember something that has faded with time.

Behind the town, the forest remains like a ghost. Its dry orange trunks seem to ignite in the cold light, and from them emanates a sweet smell, almost hypnotic, but charged with something wrong. Invisible spores float through the air, sticking to skin, infiltrating tired lungs. Some claim to feel something crawling inside them after a walk along the edge of the dry forest. Others wake from restless dreams with the feeling that the forest is calling their name.