The Ash March-where a thriving, lush forest once met a pristine lake, there is little left but scorched earth and the charred husks of trees. Blackened with dragonfire, the March was the final battlefield between the human armies of Blackreach and the mighty dragon, Utarr. Time has done nothing to heal the wounds of this scarred land. Hushed whispers in taverns across the Highlands tell of dark spirits, fallen soldiers who perished horribly in the liquid fire of Utarr's breath. They wander the damned land, hungering for the warmth of life and release from the frozen grasp of undeath.
Blackreach and The Blood Pits-the oldest city-state in Aramour, Blackreach has fallen into chaos under its latest ruler, Highlord Rhydian Morgan. Many of its quarters are in disrepair; some have been abandoned altogether and now serve as hideouts for ruthless thieves and cutthroats. Three noble houses quarrel and fight among themselves for more control over city affairs. Covert assassinations and cunning spies have become commonplace in the dangerous game for power. Rhydian Morgan himself seems to care less for the well-being of his people, and more for the arena fights of the Blood Pits. He speaks to no one in the interim, making appearances only to see the outcomes of every glorious, bloody battle to the death. Those who are permitted within the Highlord's chambers, namely the Royal Magi, refuse to disclose any information on the status of their leader. Stranger still, the residents of Blackreach have begun to disappear in the dead of night...
Lanis Londre, "The Humming Stones"-built on magically raised island in the middle of Lake Folkemar, Lanis Londre serves as the ultimate prison for both wizards and normal humans alike. Built from a black stone found only in the caverns deep below the desert of Torr, the prison completely negates the use of magic within its walls. Those attuned to the emanations of arcane energy can hear and sense an eerie, discomforting humming coming from the stones. Prolonged exposure to these stimulae can-and often do-drive wizards completely insane. This is considered the worst punishment that can be inflicted upon a magic-user who has abused and misused their power to commit serious crimes.
The Mistwood-over millennia, these fog-enshrouded woods sprang up from the northern lands and slowly crept down toward the south. Trees that have been said to dwarf even mountains climb ever upward, their tops invisible to those on the ground. The trees themselves appear to grow at a rapid rate, shooting up in a matter of weeks. Thick mists wrap themselves around all plant life like a ghostly cloak, and travelers in this place claim to hear indecipherable words in the distance; words that can only be a warning that they are not welcome.
