Duskwood Vale

Duskwood Vale is a Tier 2 Kheïtanni controlled dominion in the continent of Khaïrnóth.

Beyond the southern mountains and the shattered lands of the west the land flattens, giving way to the dark and primeval forests of Duskwood Vale. Those who wander its shadowy glades might marvel and wonder at why such a vast forest appears so terribly silent and bereft of all the expected signs of arboreal life. Such thoughts do not linger though, for such wanderers do soon too fall silent. For here, even the trees know hate.

The Khronelands

Lesser soldiers run rumours of a witch-queen who dwells at the blackened heart of these woods, poisoning the landscape with Voidcursed magics. No seasoned warrior would consider there to be any veracity to such a fearful and fanciful tale, yet despite the disagreement, the name of the Khronelands has stuck fast. Whatever the explanation given, all who have travelled through the southeastern parts of Duskwood Vale agree that something is awfully wrong with the place.

A feeling of utter despair permeates these lands. Sorrow hangs heavily upon the boughs of misshapen trees, and agony adorns their branches, stretched taut as spiderwebs. The grim and shadowed skies roll in from the northern seas and weep unending rains, soaking them in misery. Here the wind has never been heard to whistle, it only ever moans.

It was here that Jehána’s vessel fell during the War in Heaven and plunged deep into the earth. She slumbers, but her sleep is a troubled and fitful one. First of the Násr, she bore an impossible burden. The crushing weight of responsibility for every choice made along a path stretching across millennia. Choices that led to granting power to a traitor and a tyrant, to a war that tore apart the galaxy. Decisions that resulted in the deaths of billions, to the fall of the Aëdr.

Ikhaël Hádrás, The Carcass Bowers

There is a grove of trees, hidden deep within the forest, where the bleached bones and the partially decayed bodies of the more recent slain hang slumped from the branches. The dead number well into the hundreds, likely more, though few are those who are willing to venture near enough to tally them with any thought of accuracy. Collected high upon the boughs in ghastly repose by someone or something, they serve as a grim warning, but a warning against what – no one knows.

The theories of its perpetrator and purpose are endless, some fanciful, others accusatory. Some among the Lánaraï point the finger at the cruel war leader, Kharkhan Khrael, yet despite his claim to countless atrocities, even he has been heard to deny it. Others have witnessed Khorven toying at the meat of fresher bodies. But even these carrion-creatures seem to feel a primal unease at the place, and have most often been seen to peck once or twice, setting the boughs and corpses a-quiver, then taking to flight, uncharacteristically choosing to abandon an easy meal.

The Eye of Unnakharesh

Unnakharesh was one of the Star Titans, beings of inconceivable might forged from the death of entire star systems by Rhïarrh during the War in Heaven. During the final battle over Vónekh VII, Unnakharesh was slain by Ghór, one of the Násr, and remains the only one of the Star Tyrants known to have fallen, although others are rumoured. Fragments of this fallen titan were scattered across the then uninhabited planet and though their fall wrought horrendous devastation upon the land, over the years those fiery fragments faded into nothingness. All but one. For such terrible power cannot so easily be dismantled, particularly at a place where the windows to the Void are so thinly veiled.

Deep in the scarred valleys of the north, the Eye of Unnakharesh fell, and for thousands of years, it endured. Deeper it sunk into the bitter earth, and as its fiery wrath began to fade, the twisted forests of Duskwood Vale rose up and entangled to claim their prize. It did not go unnoticed, however, and was later discovered by the Rhïan. Perhaps through their adoration of Rhïarrh and their true faith, only they felt drawn to the fallen son of Rhïarrh. Sensing something undoubtedly holy, yet a power of a magnitude far beyond their control, they swore to guard and protect it. They set about it not just mere soldiers, but powerful spells of binding and riddles that no being less than utterly devoted to the Fire in Heaven could even hope to understand, much less unravel. For even their former Lánaraï masters could not be trusted with the temptation of such power.

In the depths of the tainted earth, The Eye of Unnakharesh sensed his captivity and glared with unearthly anger and deadly fire. Flames hotter than the sun swept through the bowels of the earth, and his sworn guardians fell unto dust.