Atreus Lost is a homebrew tabletop module using rules from a variety of sources and rulebooks, designed to entertain a small group of friends. The setting, systems, classes, characters and stories are all of custom design, often collaborative, and subject to constant editing. Below are articles and clickable links on the history and culture of the setting, as well as important social groups. For specific stories, click 'Campaigns' or 'Short Stories.'
NEWEST UPDATES:
Main Lore page updated! (08/19/2022)
Short stories -- Ymir's Revenge (09/15/2020)
NEWEST UPDATES:
Main Lore page updated! (08/19/2022)
Short stories -- Ymir's Revenge (09/15/2020)
Atreus: The Lonely Continent
Atreus is a solitary continent in a cold ocean, occupied by people called the Atreides (At-ree-eyeds). The continent, damaged by an ancient geological event known as the Great Mistake, bears many extreme environments, and frozen mountains brush against temperate farmland and barren high deserts. The Atreides are culturally and socially diverse, ranging from simple subsistence farmers in the wilderness to wide, multi-tiered cities surrounded by organized farmland. Each major city is autonomous, and each has their own culture and style: The isolationist Riddars, burrowed deep in their tunnels under the Thurr Plateau, the wealthy artists of Harljaden, the urban socialites of Kilfanora, or the warring slaver kings of Jukka. Despite these differences, trade and people move freely around Atreus, as far as they can: The Atreides have yet to find any other civilizations, or land at all, outside of their own.
Technologically, the Atreides are in a renaissance, climbing out of the medieval period and developing steam and mechanical advancements, often powered by magic. However, the tech divide between the average farmer and the average citizen of Kilfanora grows daily. The magi-tech of the cities would frighten and bewilder average rural people.
Religiously, Atreus is officially polytheistic, and every village guardian spirit is as real and valid as the larger organized cult deities. Whether or not this is respected varies geographically.
All in all, an accurate description of Atreus depends on where you stand.
The essential, universal truths are these:
Atreus has three suns, which move across the sky in a perfect, rotating triangle. These suns are cold and pale, and carry a strange unpleasant pressure with them: Atreides avoid the midday sun when they can, although the twilight hours are beautiful and extended at morning and evening as the individual suns rise and fall from view.
The night sky of Atreus is full of stars that move and swirl like oil in water. No patterns have ever been tracked, and prolonged viewing leads to nausea, vertigo, and can even lead to mental collapse. There are no moons either, so the night is a deep dark punctuated by faint glittering starlight. As such, Atreides avoid being out under an open night sky whenever possible.
Atreus is alone in a quiet ocean. There are no tides, and thick fog rests perpetually on the horizon beyond the beaches. Ships that have attempted to move through that fog have never returned. Naval travel is limited to direct line of sight to land, since navigation by starlight is impossible.
Atreus is populated by monstrous creatures and spirits. All cities have their own hostile fauna to contend with, and travel between cities carries greater risks from non-humans than humans. As such, organized human conflict is rare.
Lastly, and most importantly, Atreus is home to magic. People, creatures, and spirits can all manipulate magic and be affected by it. It's existence is not contested, but whether or not it is safe, trustworthy, or morally benign, is.
Technologically, the Atreides are in a renaissance, climbing out of the medieval period and developing steam and mechanical advancements, often powered by magic. However, the tech divide between the average farmer and the average citizen of Kilfanora grows daily. The magi-tech of the cities would frighten and bewilder average rural people.
Religiously, Atreus is officially polytheistic, and every village guardian spirit is as real and valid as the larger organized cult deities. Whether or not this is respected varies geographically.
All in all, an accurate description of Atreus depends on where you stand.
The essential, universal truths are these:
Atreus has three suns, which move across the sky in a perfect, rotating triangle. These suns are cold and pale, and carry a strange unpleasant pressure with them: Atreides avoid the midday sun when they can, although the twilight hours are beautiful and extended at morning and evening as the individual suns rise and fall from view.
The night sky of Atreus is full of stars that move and swirl like oil in water. No patterns have ever been tracked, and prolonged viewing leads to nausea, vertigo, and can even lead to mental collapse. There are no moons either, so the night is a deep dark punctuated by faint glittering starlight. As such, Atreides avoid being out under an open night sky whenever possible.
Atreus is alone in a quiet ocean. There are no tides, and thick fog rests perpetually on the horizon beyond the beaches. Ships that have attempted to move through that fog have never returned. Naval travel is limited to direct line of sight to land, since navigation by starlight is impossible.
Atreus is populated by monstrous creatures and spirits. All cities have their own hostile fauna to contend with, and travel between cities carries greater risks from non-humans than humans. As such, organized human conflict is rare.
Lastly, and most importantly, Atreus is home to magic. People, creatures, and spirits can all manipulate magic and be affected by it. It's existence is not contested, but whether or not it is safe, trustworthy, or morally benign, is.
Excerpt from Atreus Lost: The Rise and Fall of the Atreidai
by Wisenthal the Archivist
![Picture](/uploads/4/4/5/4/44543489/6131266_orig.jpg)
Below is the introduction to the groundbreaking and controversial book Atreus Lost: The Rise and Fall of the Atreidai by Wizenthal the Archivist, whose lifelong work was to collate the oral history of Atreus before, during, and immediately following the Great Mistake.
Long ago, the continent of Atreus once lay in the center of what the Atreidai called the Middle Sea, basking in long, warm summers and short, gentle winters. The sweeping plains and low hills were fertile, the coastlines lined with smooth, golden sand, dotted with safe harbors. Towns and villages thrived along the coasts, fishing and farming. The land never failed, the fish never ran out, and the mineral wealth of the continent lay high in the earth and easily found. Vibrant wildflowers lit the mountain foothills, and dense, lush forests coated the mountains that rose gently beyond the clouds. Songbirds filled the forests with song and seemingly limitless herds of game grazed the valleys and grasslands.
The Atreidai people lived easy lives, and this was reflected in the openness and kindness of their culture. They built a true democracy, each town and village ruling itself by majority rule of the people, each opinion valid and examined. All religious preferences were respected and worshiped equally. Clashes of religion or societal differences were solved peacefully and reasonably. New ideas and concepts were welcomed and discussed in the open air gathering places that peppered the shorelines. The people dressed in loose, light clothing and basked in the constant warm breezes of their idyllic world, feasting on the bountiful harvests of their homeland. They created beautiful works of art and music, their horns echoing across land and sea.
In time, the Atreidai discovered other civilizations, and they traded for exotic resources such as furs and dyes. They delighted in the exchange of new ideas and cultures. The science and knowledge of the Atreidai grew with each new ship to visit their ever-expanding harbor towns. The central location of the continent made for ideal trade, and their trade fleets swept to far off coasts, the huge, white sails signaling peaceful intent to any that saw, while the long wind chimes strung to their masts called out inland that the Atreidai had come to share and grow. Atreidai explorers mapped the known world quickly, and circulated those maps through their trade network to benefit their allies.
The Atreidai fostered a practicality in magic that led to a new age of technology. Magic and mechanical engineering blended into incredible feats of science that awed visitors, and it seemed that the Atreidai had a tool for every task. Their devices could control the weather, heal the sick, farm the land, mine minerals and metals, even control time itself. Every resource was used to maximum effectiveness and utility. They did not live in fear of the night sky, rather they mapped and measured it. No facet of knowledge was beyond their reach. The Atreidai grew and grew until nothing seemed unattainable. Their capabilities were close to godhood, and their grace and beauty earned them the respect of all they encountered.
As the centuries passed, and the Atreidai built more and more elaborate and powerful magical devices, they grew concerned that less developed societies might misuse their knowledge and power, and so the Atreidai began withholding their technology from the global network they had established. Relations soured, as their utter technological superiority built a bitter jealousy. What right, the people of the world asked, did the Atreidai have to keep knowledge secret? Their superiority made day-to-day life on Atreus easy, while their allies struggled to survive. There was no need to spend time farming when a magical device could do it for you, no need to fish when the fish could be made to sacrifice themselves to the fires and salting racks directly. This lack of effort cultivated a growing indolence in the Atreidai and, despite the ever increasing amounts of free time available to the people, their scientific and cultural growth began to slow. Needs and challenges continued to diminish, and trade slowed to a crawl as their allies grew more and more jealous.
As the Atreidai diminished, they turned inwards, and searched for meaning in the gods to explain their faltering world. Sects and cults to specific gods both new and old grew in favor and vied for political influence. These groups blamed each other, or heathen groups beyond Atreus, for the failing society. Issues that once were solved in public debate were solved with mob violence, mobs wielding immensely powerful magical artifacts. As the violence spread, trade with the outside world stopped entirely, the harbors seen as decadent entrances for heathen thoughts. The last foreign ship to leave the shores of Atreus would never know the significance of the event, or the disaster they avoided.
As the towns and harbors warred and burned, as fields and stockpiles of resources were destroyed and consumed, the remaining scientific intellectuals and wealthy elite came together to found a project, an ultimate machine, a triumph of the Atreidai, which would unify the people and re-ignite the creative fire on Atreus. Some records suggest that this alliance built the machine to challenge or destroy the gods, or their terrestrial enemies, but no one knows for certain - its ultimate purpose remains unknown. Resources were scavenged and stolen from the warring mobs, magic energies pouring into the project from countless sources in absolute secrecy. Rivulets of power filled the walls of the deep cavern in which the machine was built. It was a towering obelisk, glowing bright with swirling potential energy, surrounded by thousands of rotating and whirring mechanisms, each humming with power. Every ounce of knowledge ever gathered by the Atreidai was put into the construction of the machine, every magical device drained to fuel it. As the last allies of the project fell, its leaders sealed the secret tunnels leading to the machine, and resigned themselves to a slow death should they fail. The scale of their failure would be beyond their worst fears.
It is unclear whether or not the machine was ever activated or destroyed, and the site has never been found. There were no historians left to record the event. The only records available are oral traditions, passed down by generations, traditions steeped in myth and religious symbolism. Perhaps the machine was activated and failed, perhaps it was breached by the warring mobs and destroyed, or perhaps the wrath of the gods, seeking vengeance for the impertinence of the Atreidai, brought about the end of old Atreus. In any case, all the stories agree on the impossible nature of the cataclysm that ended the Atreidai.
All at once, the sky went black, the sun and stars lost in an instant to a yawning and endless abyss. The seas boiled and froze at the same time, crashing and ripping harbors and ships to splinters. The land erupted upwards and fell away into the void, entire cities lost. The air tore away from the continent in all directions, the force of it uprooting forests. People were consumed in bursts of intense heat or cold, others suffocated as the air deserted them, countless more lost in the shifting earth of constant earthquakes. Mountains split and shattered, fields and valleys exploded into brutal spikes of rock, entire coastlines lost to the endless nothing that suddenly encompassed Atreus, and in that nothingness, monstrous, towering figures of impossible dimensions burst into being, screaming and flailing at the continent now cast adrift. From the vile limbs of those impossible beings dropped smaller beings, ravenous monsters and violent spirits that burrowed into Atreus, feasting on its wealth and hunting its people.
As quickly as disaster came, it was over. The scant survivors, huddled in caves or saved by luck in the rubble, found themselves back in a world irrevocably changed. The stars now swirled malevolently instead of standing still, and the sun seemed split into three, cold and hostile. The new winds were cold and biting, the oceans frigid and still. Frost covered the ruined landscape for the first time ever, and the remaining people of the Atreidai struggled in this new, harsher world.
Here the oral tradition varies, as individual pockets of survivors experience their own stories. Stories of snow, never seen before, varied from wonder to horror. Some died from exposure, some found safety in strange new hot springs that emerged. Farming, scavenging, and the building of shelters were a foreign concept to these veterans of an enlightened age of technology. Their knowledge and history was lost in the desperate need to survive.
We know that the remnants of the Atreidai survived in their new environment, because those survivors are now us, the Atreides. Eking out a meager life in the hoary tundra with their bare hands was a far cry from their noble lives before the fall, but we, the new people of Atreus, can claim heritage to the once great Atreidai. We had grown from their mistakes, harder and stronger from it. Our world is still beautiful, though it is harsh. The cold plains are rocky and difficult to plow, but it makes us stronger. The mountains are sharp and steep, wreathed in snow, but they are still beautiful. The mass graves and barrows of the long lost Atreidai are dark and haunted, but lush with grass. The golden beaches are gone, replaced with sharp white cliffs, but we are safer for it. The fish fight hard, and the land refuses to yield what little wealth remains, but we learn from it. The palette of our new world is simple, but the occasional patch of color is all the more special in it. The land still shakes and cracks, exposing the ruins and shreds of our ancient culture, and dangerous creatures now lurk in the caves, forests, and bogs of our land, but we will survive it.
Our people are tempered by the harshness of our environment and our collective experience. The science and technology that brought about our downfall is no longer welcome or needed. We do not rush to regain our former status. Now trade moves inland, between town and village, not squandering our wealth abroad. Caravans of wheat and grain from the farmland outside the southern cities flow to the northern coast to trade for salted fish, furs, and pearls. Lumber and mushrooms from the forests, metals and stone from the mountains, a network supporting ourselves. Our music is softer and sadder, more simple in the strings and woodwinds hewn by hand. Our culture is a reflection of our past, and all new generations must pay their respects to the triumphs and failures of the Atreidai.
Long ago, the continent of Atreus once lay in the center of what the Atreidai called the Middle Sea, basking in long, warm summers and short, gentle winters. The sweeping plains and low hills were fertile, the coastlines lined with smooth, golden sand, dotted with safe harbors. Towns and villages thrived along the coasts, fishing and farming. The land never failed, the fish never ran out, and the mineral wealth of the continent lay high in the earth and easily found. Vibrant wildflowers lit the mountain foothills, and dense, lush forests coated the mountains that rose gently beyond the clouds. Songbirds filled the forests with song and seemingly limitless herds of game grazed the valleys and grasslands.
The Atreidai people lived easy lives, and this was reflected in the openness and kindness of their culture. They built a true democracy, each town and village ruling itself by majority rule of the people, each opinion valid and examined. All religious preferences were respected and worshiped equally. Clashes of religion or societal differences were solved peacefully and reasonably. New ideas and concepts were welcomed and discussed in the open air gathering places that peppered the shorelines. The people dressed in loose, light clothing and basked in the constant warm breezes of their idyllic world, feasting on the bountiful harvests of their homeland. They created beautiful works of art and music, their horns echoing across land and sea.
In time, the Atreidai discovered other civilizations, and they traded for exotic resources such as furs and dyes. They delighted in the exchange of new ideas and cultures. The science and knowledge of the Atreidai grew with each new ship to visit their ever-expanding harbor towns. The central location of the continent made for ideal trade, and their trade fleets swept to far off coasts, the huge, white sails signaling peaceful intent to any that saw, while the long wind chimes strung to their masts called out inland that the Atreidai had come to share and grow. Atreidai explorers mapped the known world quickly, and circulated those maps through their trade network to benefit their allies.
The Atreidai fostered a practicality in magic that led to a new age of technology. Magic and mechanical engineering blended into incredible feats of science that awed visitors, and it seemed that the Atreidai had a tool for every task. Their devices could control the weather, heal the sick, farm the land, mine minerals and metals, even control time itself. Every resource was used to maximum effectiveness and utility. They did not live in fear of the night sky, rather they mapped and measured it. No facet of knowledge was beyond their reach. The Atreidai grew and grew until nothing seemed unattainable. Their capabilities were close to godhood, and their grace and beauty earned them the respect of all they encountered.
As the centuries passed, and the Atreidai built more and more elaborate and powerful magical devices, they grew concerned that less developed societies might misuse their knowledge and power, and so the Atreidai began withholding their technology from the global network they had established. Relations soured, as their utter technological superiority built a bitter jealousy. What right, the people of the world asked, did the Atreidai have to keep knowledge secret? Their superiority made day-to-day life on Atreus easy, while their allies struggled to survive. There was no need to spend time farming when a magical device could do it for you, no need to fish when the fish could be made to sacrifice themselves to the fires and salting racks directly. This lack of effort cultivated a growing indolence in the Atreidai and, despite the ever increasing amounts of free time available to the people, their scientific and cultural growth began to slow. Needs and challenges continued to diminish, and trade slowed to a crawl as their allies grew more and more jealous.
As the Atreidai diminished, they turned inwards, and searched for meaning in the gods to explain their faltering world. Sects and cults to specific gods both new and old grew in favor and vied for political influence. These groups blamed each other, or heathen groups beyond Atreus, for the failing society. Issues that once were solved in public debate were solved with mob violence, mobs wielding immensely powerful magical artifacts. As the violence spread, trade with the outside world stopped entirely, the harbors seen as decadent entrances for heathen thoughts. The last foreign ship to leave the shores of Atreus would never know the significance of the event, or the disaster they avoided.
As the towns and harbors warred and burned, as fields and stockpiles of resources were destroyed and consumed, the remaining scientific intellectuals and wealthy elite came together to found a project, an ultimate machine, a triumph of the Atreidai, which would unify the people and re-ignite the creative fire on Atreus. Some records suggest that this alliance built the machine to challenge or destroy the gods, or their terrestrial enemies, but no one knows for certain - its ultimate purpose remains unknown. Resources were scavenged and stolen from the warring mobs, magic energies pouring into the project from countless sources in absolute secrecy. Rivulets of power filled the walls of the deep cavern in which the machine was built. It was a towering obelisk, glowing bright with swirling potential energy, surrounded by thousands of rotating and whirring mechanisms, each humming with power. Every ounce of knowledge ever gathered by the Atreidai was put into the construction of the machine, every magical device drained to fuel it. As the last allies of the project fell, its leaders sealed the secret tunnels leading to the machine, and resigned themselves to a slow death should they fail. The scale of their failure would be beyond their worst fears.
It is unclear whether or not the machine was ever activated or destroyed, and the site has never been found. There were no historians left to record the event. The only records available are oral traditions, passed down by generations, traditions steeped in myth and religious symbolism. Perhaps the machine was activated and failed, perhaps it was breached by the warring mobs and destroyed, or perhaps the wrath of the gods, seeking vengeance for the impertinence of the Atreidai, brought about the end of old Atreus. In any case, all the stories agree on the impossible nature of the cataclysm that ended the Atreidai.
All at once, the sky went black, the sun and stars lost in an instant to a yawning and endless abyss. The seas boiled and froze at the same time, crashing and ripping harbors and ships to splinters. The land erupted upwards and fell away into the void, entire cities lost. The air tore away from the continent in all directions, the force of it uprooting forests. People were consumed in bursts of intense heat or cold, others suffocated as the air deserted them, countless more lost in the shifting earth of constant earthquakes. Mountains split and shattered, fields and valleys exploded into brutal spikes of rock, entire coastlines lost to the endless nothing that suddenly encompassed Atreus, and in that nothingness, monstrous, towering figures of impossible dimensions burst into being, screaming and flailing at the continent now cast adrift. From the vile limbs of those impossible beings dropped smaller beings, ravenous monsters and violent spirits that burrowed into Atreus, feasting on its wealth and hunting its people.
As quickly as disaster came, it was over. The scant survivors, huddled in caves or saved by luck in the rubble, found themselves back in a world irrevocably changed. The stars now swirled malevolently instead of standing still, and the sun seemed split into three, cold and hostile. The new winds were cold and biting, the oceans frigid and still. Frost covered the ruined landscape for the first time ever, and the remaining people of the Atreidai struggled in this new, harsher world.
Here the oral tradition varies, as individual pockets of survivors experience their own stories. Stories of snow, never seen before, varied from wonder to horror. Some died from exposure, some found safety in strange new hot springs that emerged. Farming, scavenging, and the building of shelters were a foreign concept to these veterans of an enlightened age of technology. Their knowledge and history was lost in the desperate need to survive.
We know that the remnants of the Atreidai survived in their new environment, because those survivors are now us, the Atreides. Eking out a meager life in the hoary tundra with their bare hands was a far cry from their noble lives before the fall, but we, the new people of Atreus, can claim heritage to the once great Atreidai. We had grown from their mistakes, harder and stronger from it. Our world is still beautiful, though it is harsh. The cold plains are rocky and difficult to plow, but it makes us stronger. The mountains are sharp and steep, wreathed in snow, but they are still beautiful. The mass graves and barrows of the long lost Atreidai are dark and haunted, but lush with grass. The golden beaches are gone, replaced with sharp white cliffs, but we are safer for it. The fish fight hard, and the land refuses to yield what little wealth remains, but we learn from it. The palette of our new world is simple, but the occasional patch of color is all the more special in it. The land still shakes and cracks, exposing the ruins and shreds of our ancient culture, and dangerous creatures now lurk in the caves, forests, and bogs of our land, but we will survive it.
Our people are tempered by the harshness of our environment and our collective experience. The science and technology that brought about our downfall is no longer welcome or needed. We do not rush to regain our former status. Now trade moves inland, between town and village, not squandering our wealth abroad. Caravans of wheat and grain from the farmland outside the southern cities flow to the northern coast to trade for salted fish, furs, and pearls. Lumber and mushrooms from the forests, metals and stone from the mountains, a network supporting ourselves. Our music is softer and sadder, more simple in the strings and woodwinds hewn by hand. Our culture is a reflection of our past, and all new generations must pay their respects to the triumphs and failures of the Atreidai.
The Varanan Guard
In the far Southwestern corner of Atreus, in their mountain fortress, the Guards of Varanas work to protect the innocent, combat monsters, and hunt dangerous mages. Over the last few hundred years, they have burrowed deep into the Kalmar mountains, adding layers of bunkers to hold their growing Orders. One of these layers contains a rich silver mine, in which the Varanan Guard are uniquely skilled at crafting. Although they do not have a complete monopoly on silver, they hoard it and buy up as much as they can, for its use in their bespoke technology. Their civilian population grows along with them, and there is nowhere safer to live on Atreus than Varanas and it's nearby farmlands. With outposts and operations across Atreus, the Varanan Guard is a common and often welcome sight, although not all of their Orders exist for public service.
The Five Orders of the Varanan Guard
The Varanan Guard have five distinct branches, each with their own purpose, internal hierarchy, and public image. Some are populous and commonplace, and some are extremely secretive. While not all of the Orders are combat designed, the default training methods of the Varanan Guard are intense enough that even the youngest acolytes of the most sedentary Orders are probably more prepared for violence than the average person.
The Omad Kasterion - The Judges
The highest authority of the Varanan Guard is their judiciary council, commonly called the Judges. These elder statesmen vote and debate on internal matters and are sworn to never leave the Keep. They dictate policy to the other Orders, but leave the application of those policies to the individual Phalangiarch. Exactly who they are, the skills they possess, their qualifications for leadership, and their long term intentions for the Varanan Guard, is privileged information generally kept to the highest levels. The average member of the Guard knows nothing about them beyond their name.
The Omad Anakrit - The Inquisition
The Inquisitors are the darker side of the Varanan Guard, but for good reason. Their Order hunts exclusively evil mages, and kill or imprison anyone they determine to be in violation of the Laws of Magic, which the Omad Kasterion created. Inquisitors are often ruthless, and operate on a platform of 'guilty until proven innocent.' However, dark mages are extremely dangerous and quick to cause collateral damage, and the Inquisition would rather kill potentially innocent mages than risk losing a city block fighting a dark mage given too much time to prepare. Inquisitors are specially trained to fight and neutralize magic, and usually work with a retinue of Guard forces. They will work with local law enforcement only if they feel it necessary, and most jurisdictions choose to stay clear and avoid the crossfire. Other Orders will call in Inquisitors if there is doubt of practitioner's innocence, or if a truly powerful dark mage is located. They also operate internally, and have investigative authority over the other Orders, even so far as to arrest leading members of other Orders, if suspicions are raised. They control Varanas' magical prison, where they house dark mages that require further interrogation.
For more on the Omad Anakrit, see Short Story: The Inquisitor
The Omad Katiskopos - The Agents
The Agents of the Varanan Guard are the most populous and widely spread, tasked with building outposts in major and minor cities, and assisting the general populace in mundane and magical matters. Agents generally function as detectives, using their skills and magic to solve crimes ranging from petty theft to serial killings. Varanan Guard Agencies operate for profit, and each accomplishes this in different ways. Beyond simply charging for their investigatory services, some agencies become craftsmen or artisans on the side. The Omad Katiskopos is loosely governed, each Agency operating with autonomy, as long as appropriate conduct is observed and the tithes flow upstream. The smallest Agencies may be no more than two or three Agents, acting as something between an inn and a town constable, while the largest Agency in Kilfanora is dozens strong, and regularly embroiled in large scale criminal investigations. Any Agent can call upon another Order for aid, and they are the first responders to most incidents in which the Varanan Guard involves itself. They are one of two workhorse Orders, and the most public face of the Varanan Guard.
The Omad Dimios - The Monster Hunters
The second workhorse of the Varanan Guard are the monster hunters, commonly called Dimo. Wielding signature silver weapons and thoroughly trained in monster lore, Dimo roam around Atreus in small groups of two to four, living off the land while they hunt local monsters for money. Although most monster populations have proven impossible to totally eliminate, the Omad Dimios have successfully purged several species, including almost all giant spider subspecies. Dimo check in regularly at Agency outposts, following up on Agent investigations when monsters are to blame. They are rough, rowdy, fiercely independent, and most likely to cause embarrassment to the Varanan Guard, but Dimo are an essential part of Atreus society. It is common knowledge that when monsters plague your village, you call for a Dimo.
The Omad Grafeas - The Scribes
For the Varanan Guard to function properly, it requires knowledge and information. These are provided by the Scribes, the often overlooked backbone of the other Orders. Without their research, the Omad Dimios would hunt blindly. Without their documentation and organizational methods, the Omad Katiskopos would never keep track of cases. Without their dutiful copying, the Omad Kasterion would not be able to disseminate their Laws of Magic, and without their communications network, the Omad Anakrit would only discover dark mages once the death toll climbed high enough. The Scribes balance the books, copy the notes, and publish a large volume of pamphlets for public use, including a safety manual on indigenous monsters, customized by region, and of course, the Laws of Magic. The Scribes are also the research arm of the Varanan Guard, generating new tools and spells for use by the other Orders. They conduct research missions, supported by Agents and Dimo, into Ancient Atreiai ruins or sites of historical significance. In any large scale operation by the Varanan Guard, there will be Scribes assisting, regardless of which Order spearheads the movement.
The Five Orders of the Varanan Guard
The Varanan Guard have five distinct branches, each with their own purpose, internal hierarchy, and public image. Some are populous and commonplace, and some are extremely secretive. While not all of the Orders are combat designed, the default training methods of the Varanan Guard are intense enough that even the youngest acolytes of the most sedentary Orders are probably more prepared for violence than the average person.
The Omad Kasterion - The Judges
The highest authority of the Varanan Guard is their judiciary council, commonly called the Judges. These elder statesmen vote and debate on internal matters and are sworn to never leave the Keep. They dictate policy to the other Orders, but leave the application of those policies to the individual Phalangiarch. Exactly who they are, the skills they possess, their qualifications for leadership, and their long term intentions for the Varanan Guard, is privileged information generally kept to the highest levels. The average member of the Guard knows nothing about them beyond their name.
The Omad Anakrit - The Inquisition
The Inquisitors are the darker side of the Varanan Guard, but for good reason. Their Order hunts exclusively evil mages, and kill or imprison anyone they determine to be in violation of the Laws of Magic, which the Omad Kasterion created. Inquisitors are often ruthless, and operate on a platform of 'guilty until proven innocent.' However, dark mages are extremely dangerous and quick to cause collateral damage, and the Inquisition would rather kill potentially innocent mages than risk losing a city block fighting a dark mage given too much time to prepare. Inquisitors are specially trained to fight and neutralize magic, and usually work with a retinue of Guard forces. They will work with local law enforcement only if they feel it necessary, and most jurisdictions choose to stay clear and avoid the crossfire. Other Orders will call in Inquisitors if there is doubt of practitioner's innocence, or if a truly powerful dark mage is located. They also operate internally, and have investigative authority over the other Orders, even so far as to arrest leading members of other Orders, if suspicions are raised. They control Varanas' magical prison, where they house dark mages that require further interrogation.
For more on the Omad Anakrit, see Short Story: The Inquisitor
The Omad Katiskopos - The Agents
The Agents of the Varanan Guard are the most populous and widely spread, tasked with building outposts in major and minor cities, and assisting the general populace in mundane and magical matters. Agents generally function as detectives, using their skills and magic to solve crimes ranging from petty theft to serial killings. Varanan Guard Agencies operate for profit, and each accomplishes this in different ways. Beyond simply charging for their investigatory services, some agencies become craftsmen or artisans on the side. The Omad Katiskopos is loosely governed, each Agency operating with autonomy, as long as appropriate conduct is observed and the tithes flow upstream. The smallest Agencies may be no more than two or three Agents, acting as something between an inn and a town constable, while the largest Agency in Kilfanora is dozens strong, and regularly embroiled in large scale criminal investigations. Any Agent can call upon another Order for aid, and they are the first responders to most incidents in which the Varanan Guard involves itself. They are one of two workhorse Orders, and the most public face of the Varanan Guard.
The Omad Dimios - The Monster Hunters
The second workhorse of the Varanan Guard are the monster hunters, commonly called Dimo. Wielding signature silver weapons and thoroughly trained in monster lore, Dimo roam around Atreus in small groups of two to four, living off the land while they hunt local monsters for money. Although most monster populations have proven impossible to totally eliminate, the Omad Dimios have successfully purged several species, including almost all giant spider subspecies. Dimo check in regularly at Agency outposts, following up on Agent investigations when monsters are to blame. They are rough, rowdy, fiercely independent, and most likely to cause embarrassment to the Varanan Guard, but Dimo are an essential part of Atreus society. It is common knowledge that when monsters plague your village, you call for a Dimo.
The Omad Grafeas - The Scribes
For the Varanan Guard to function properly, it requires knowledge and information. These are provided by the Scribes, the often overlooked backbone of the other Orders. Without their research, the Omad Dimios would hunt blindly. Without their documentation and organizational methods, the Omad Katiskopos would never keep track of cases. Without their dutiful copying, the Omad Kasterion would not be able to disseminate their Laws of Magic, and without their communications network, the Omad Anakrit would only discover dark mages once the death toll climbed high enough. The Scribes balance the books, copy the notes, and publish a large volume of pamphlets for public use, including a safety manual on indigenous monsters, customized by region, and of course, the Laws of Magic. The Scribes are also the research arm of the Varanan Guard, generating new tools and spells for use by the other Orders. They conduct research missions, supported by Agents and Dimo, into Ancient Atreiai ruins or sites of historical significance. In any large scale operation by the Varanan Guard, there will be Scribes assisting, regardless of which Order spearheads the movement.
Ertvaag, the Pirate Kingdom
(Excerpt from a conversation with Lasho Simms, pirate captain during Campaign 1: The Skyshaker War)
Ertvaag? Ertvaag is a terrible place, kid. And a great place. But don’t go there, ok? Just don’t. Not your sort of place. Me though…
So anyway, Ertvaag started out as this little sea cave in the side of this frozen, pointless rock way North of anything. Just a couple smugglers who thought it was cool to call themselves ‘pirates.’ They dug out some space and and burrowed on in, built themselves some lovely houses right there into the side of the glacier, called it a ‘free city’ back when a few dozen guys drunk as hell all the time constituted a political party. You know they even formed a city council? It was literally just the captains of the ships that knew about the place. What did they think they were going to vote on, how many points their hats should have? Certainly wasn’t what kind of ships to raid. Never did get that sorted out. That was almost.. gods, that was more than thirty years ago. Time flies when you’re inventing a pirate paradise, I guess. And look at it now. I walk down those streets, I bet you not one of these new breed even recognizes me. All hustle and bustle, buying and selling and drinking and fighting and yelling in their fancy gear. Brings a tear to my eye. I mean, it’s what I wanted, but some recognition would be nice.
I was one of those stupid optimistic kids way back when, carving out an ice cave for all my treasure. I think I had maybe a few hundred emeralds’ worth of loot, at best? Crew of less than a dozen, and mine was biggest? But we made something of it, kid. Built a proper base of operations. Thirty years from nothing to that is a lot better than some places. It’s a shithole, but it took Jukka generations to cultivate that deep sense of being total shit that we have. We’re cultured shit here.
We don’t have that nasty infighting problem like Jukka has, either. Dock up with us, you’re good to go, leave your stuff on the dock without worrying about somebody pinching it. Get a good price for your gear without getting shanked on the way home, nice fair bartering without all that “give me a better price or I’ll stab you” stuff. How do we manage that, you ask? Lots and lots of armed men, kiddo! Bunch of pirates making sure pirates don’t screw with other pirates by screwing with pirates. Your stuff from the dock get pinched? The guy he tries to sell it to will make sure it doesn’t happen again, your stuff turns back up with a nice bow on it. That merchant looking to turn a quicker profit by cutting out the competition, also known as you? Hey man, hurt one captain you hurt them all. We solved that sort of problem a long time ago, doesn’t come back up much anymore. If there’s one part of the whole Atreides culture we’re into, it’s that neutrality thing. Ertvaag is base, safe harbor, holy ground, as long as you’re a pirate. Hence your current problem, our problem really. I’m helping you and your buddies work against pirates. I get too public about it, get caught digging into their business too much, it’s my ass in the ditch, an example to others that pirate vs. pirate is the cardinal sin here. Sure as hells can’t have you showing up here, either.
See, a very small number of people who know where Ertvaag is. Captains, maybe some navigators, observant crewmen, but it’s never more than a few hundred people. Plus, the ice shifts all the time, so you really gotta know where you’re looking to get there. Not an easy trip. There’s a reason I do my trade on the mainland, it’s a pain in the ass getting to Ertvaag sometimes. Look, not even the merchants who do the bulk of the buying and selling know where this place is. We keep them below deck the whole trip, back and forth. It’s a fucking ineffable cosmic mystery here, and we like it that way. You and your buddies show up, clearly not pirates, and teenagers at that, some serious questions are going to get asked. People get their fingernails pulled out, skin gets peeled, tongues get loosened and next thing I know some new kid is wearing my hat and my head is in a box. Like I said, hurt one captain, hurt them all, and messing with a guy's business is tantamount to murder to these guys. I’ve seen ships sunk over corporate espionage. You should see what they do to people caught insider trading.
So before you get all up in arms and all "but Lasho, it’s been days, where’s our family,” just remember I value my head and my hat. Not like I can just stroll on up to Bolton and Abbott and go, “hey guys, what’d ya do with those slaves?” I have to go check with buyers I trust, listen in on the right conversations, grease the right palms. Might not work anyway. But the shit those two pulled down on all our heads by ripping people off the mainland like that, pretending it was the Reinn, putting that evil on us? Not trying to get your hopes up, but the other option besides me going headless? Things go our way, we get the entire Ertvaag fleet on our side. Wouldn’t that be something to see?
Ertvaag? Ertvaag is a terrible place, kid. And a great place. But don’t go there, ok? Just don’t. Not your sort of place. Me though…
So anyway, Ertvaag started out as this little sea cave in the side of this frozen, pointless rock way North of anything. Just a couple smugglers who thought it was cool to call themselves ‘pirates.’ They dug out some space and and burrowed on in, built themselves some lovely houses right there into the side of the glacier, called it a ‘free city’ back when a few dozen guys drunk as hell all the time constituted a political party. You know they even formed a city council? It was literally just the captains of the ships that knew about the place. What did they think they were going to vote on, how many points their hats should have? Certainly wasn’t what kind of ships to raid. Never did get that sorted out. That was almost.. gods, that was more than thirty years ago. Time flies when you’re inventing a pirate paradise, I guess. And look at it now. I walk down those streets, I bet you not one of these new breed even recognizes me. All hustle and bustle, buying and selling and drinking and fighting and yelling in their fancy gear. Brings a tear to my eye. I mean, it’s what I wanted, but some recognition would be nice.
I was one of those stupid optimistic kids way back when, carving out an ice cave for all my treasure. I think I had maybe a few hundred emeralds’ worth of loot, at best? Crew of less than a dozen, and mine was biggest? But we made something of it, kid. Built a proper base of operations. Thirty years from nothing to that is a lot better than some places. It’s a shithole, but it took Jukka generations to cultivate that deep sense of being total shit that we have. We’re cultured shit here.
We don’t have that nasty infighting problem like Jukka has, either. Dock up with us, you’re good to go, leave your stuff on the dock without worrying about somebody pinching it. Get a good price for your gear without getting shanked on the way home, nice fair bartering without all that “give me a better price or I’ll stab you” stuff. How do we manage that, you ask? Lots and lots of armed men, kiddo! Bunch of pirates making sure pirates don’t screw with other pirates by screwing with pirates. Your stuff from the dock get pinched? The guy he tries to sell it to will make sure it doesn’t happen again, your stuff turns back up with a nice bow on it. That merchant looking to turn a quicker profit by cutting out the competition, also known as you? Hey man, hurt one captain you hurt them all. We solved that sort of problem a long time ago, doesn’t come back up much anymore. If there’s one part of the whole Atreides culture we’re into, it’s that neutrality thing. Ertvaag is base, safe harbor, holy ground, as long as you’re a pirate. Hence your current problem, our problem really. I’m helping you and your buddies work against pirates. I get too public about it, get caught digging into their business too much, it’s my ass in the ditch, an example to others that pirate vs. pirate is the cardinal sin here. Sure as hells can’t have you showing up here, either.
See, a very small number of people who know where Ertvaag is. Captains, maybe some navigators, observant crewmen, but it’s never more than a few hundred people. Plus, the ice shifts all the time, so you really gotta know where you’re looking to get there. Not an easy trip. There’s a reason I do my trade on the mainland, it’s a pain in the ass getting to Ertvaag sometimes. Look, not even the merchants who do the bulk of the buying and selling know where this place is. We keep them below deck the whole trip, back and forth. It’s a fucking ineffable cosmic mystery here, and we like it that way. You and your buddies show up, clearly not pirates, and teenagers at that, some serious questions are going to get asked. People get their fingernails pulled out, skin gets peeled, tongues get loosened and next thing I know some new kid is wearing my hat and my head is in a box. Like I said, hurt one captain, hurt them all, and messing with a guy's business is tantamount to murder to these guys. I’ve seen ships sunk over corporate espionage. You should see what they do to people caught insider trading.
So before you get all up in arms and all "but Lasho, it’s been days, where’s our family,” just remember I value my head and my hat. Not like I can just stroll on up to Bolton and Abbott and go, “hey guys, what’d ya do with those slaves?” I have to go check with buyers I trust, listen in on the right conversations, grease the right palms. Might not work anyway. But the shit those two pulled down on all our heads by ripping people off the mainland like that, pretending it was the Reinn, putting that evil on us? Not trying to get your hopes up, but the other option besides me going headless? Things go our way, we get the entire Ertvaag fleet on our side. Wouldn’t that be something to see?
Haglkorn
![Picture](/uploads/4/4/5/4/44543489/published/677645.png?1588578226)
Excerpt from Atreus Lost: The Rise and Fall of the Atreidai
by Wisenthal the Archivist
The bare necessity of shelter and food occupies the majority of the oral tradition, but in this time immediately after The Great Mistake, the strange magical rocks now called Haglkorn, or Hail-Stones, which float and idle around Atreus, are first mentioned. There are no records of their existence before The Great Mistake, and although their properties have never been fully mapped, their presence is a permanent reminder of the great destruction visited on Atreus. Some say they are the shattered relics of the Atreidai, ruined and uncontrollable, while some cults insist they are the sacred gifts of the gods, left to keep the world stable after the gods rescued it from the void. They are potent sources of wild magic, and are extremely unpredictable. Their size can vary from mere pebbles to towering pillars and boulders. People have tried to harvest these items, but the stones seem bound to their locations, and often resist explosively. However, some stories tell of stones that are easily shifted, regardless of size. Still others tell of stones that float and fall with the seasons, or rise and fall with no discernible reason whatsoever. Groups and cults have built temples to, or around, these stones, but their mercurial nature defies rational understanding. In any case, they are chaotic, dangerous and best avoided.
(Compiled from various sources)
●Physically tend to resemble obsidian or shale, extreme variety in scale
●Known to be extremely magically potent and dangerous
●Responsive to magic, weather, strong emotions
●Highly contextual, esoteric, unusual triggers, such as proximity to violence, or bread
●Some are mundane and entirely unremarkable, potentially mixed in with ‘normal’ stone, do not display any magical properties
●No apparent pattern in their dispersal around Atreus, some above, some below ground
●Many are locked geographically, cannot be moved by any means, but some can and have been removed.
●Possible byproduct of apocalypse (Wizenthal theory: No mention of Haglkorn in Atreidai history implies they did not exist previously)
●Potential ancient magical devices (Wizenthal theory: Several found in Atreidai ruins, Atreidai known for manufacturing highly specific magical devices)
●Origins may be linked, despite differences between individual stones (Wizenthal theory: Initial reported sightings all stem from the same period in history)
by Wisenthal the Archivist
The bare necessity of shelter and food occupies the majority of the oral tradition, but in this time immediately after The Great Mistake, the strange magical rocks now called Haglkorn, or Hail-Stones, which float and idle around Atreus, are first mentioned. There are no records of their existence before The Great Mistake, and although their properties have never been fully mapped, their presence is a permanent reminder of the great destruction visited on Atreus. Some say they are the shattered relics of the Atreidai, ruined and uncontrollable, while some cults insist they are the sacred gifts of the gods, left to keep the world stable after the gods rescued it from the void. They are potent sources of wild magic, and are extremely unpredictable. Their size can vary from mere pebbles to towering pillars and boulders. People have tried to harvest these items, but the stones seem bound to their locations, and often resist explosively. However, some stories tell of stones that are easily shifted, regardless of size. Still others tell of stones that float and fall with the seasons, or rise and fall with no discernible reason whatsoever. Groups and cults have built temples to, or around, these stones, but their mercurial nature defies rational understanding. In any case, they are chaotic, dangerous and best avoided.
(Compiled from various sources)
●Physically tend to resemble obsidian or shale, extreme variety in scale
●Known to be extremely magically potent and dangerous
●Responsive to magic, weather, strong emotions
●Highly contextual, esoteric, unusual triggers, such as proximity to violence, or bread
●Some are mundane and entirely unremarkable, potentially mixed in with ‘normal’ stone, do not display any magical properties
●No apparent pattern in their dispersal around Atreus, some above, some below ground
●Many are locked geographically, cannot be moved by any means, but some can and have been removed.
●Possible byproduct of apocalypse (Wizenthal theory: No mention of Haglkorn in Atreidai history implies they did not exist previously)
●Potential ancient magical devices (Wizenthal theory: Several found in Atreidai ruins, Atreidai known for manufacturing highly specific magical devices)
●Origins may be linked, despite differences between individual stones (Wizenthal theory: Initial reported sightings all stem from the same period in history)
Harljaden, the Jewel of the West
The waterfalls at the end of the Vatn river are one of Atreus’ greatest wonders. They are hundreds of feet tall, splitting the city of Harljaden into two distinctly different districts. Above the falls are temples, luxury businesses, mansions, art galleries, and theaters. Below the falls is industry and squalor, densely packed buildings and narrow streets. This disparity is a source of constant conflict.
Harljaden is on the Western coast of Atreus, the largest port city on that coast. Further South, the coastline is mostly cliffs. Trade flows down the Vatn from Traenen to the sea, but must pass through the complicated system of locks in Harljaden to cross the falls, or be taken ashore above the falls, carted down to the lower docks, and loaded onto a new ship. Either method takes time and money, which has contributed to a vibrant economy: Shops cater to short term visitors, fanciful and expensive items available from street vendors, luxurious parks and public works. Artists and musicians are everywhere, some selling their work or performing for a few rubies on the street, others selling masterworks or performing for hundreds in private galleries and theaters.
Harljaden is also a highly religious city, and is the site of the largest temple on Atreus. The Hringkirk is a multistory, perfectly circular temple that rotates extremely slowly, and is open to followers of all beliefs. Hundreds of pilgrims flock to it yearly, further boosting the local tourist economy. Each faith has their own disciples and alcoves within, and it stands as shining example of equality and cooperation. Its symmetrical design is a triumph of engineering and denies any one faith a place of supremacy.
The lower portion of Harljaden, colloquially known as the Workhouse, is a mess of foundries, textile mills, warehouses and tight packed, cheap housing. There are frequent worker uprisings, protesting the imbalance of political, financial and social power between the upper and lower cities. These conflicts often end in bloody street fighting in back alleys as the council guards work to keep the conflict out of sight of tourists.
Harljaden’s famous chief engineer and architect, Ekaterina Tofte, designed the Gearworks, a clockwork tangle of gears, flowing water, and industry. Her efforts created incredible mechanical feats, such as the rotation design of the Hringkirk, and the Gearworks themselves, which harness the waterfalls to power industrial systems throughout the city.
Harljaden is on the Western coast of Atreus, the largest port city on that coast. Further South, the coastline is mostly cliffs. Trade flows down the Vatn from Traenen to the sea, but must pass through the complicated system of locks in Harljaden to cross the falls, or be taken ashore above the falls, carted down to the lower docks, and loaded onto a new ship. Either method takes time and money, which has contributed to a vibrant economy: Shops cater to short term visitors, fanciful and expensive items available from street vendors, luxurious parks and public works. Artists and musicians are everywhere, some selling their work or performing for a few rubies on the street, others selling masterworks or performing for hundreds in private galleries and theaters.
Harljaden is also a highly religious city, and is the site of the largest temple on Atreus. The Hringkirk is a multistory, perfectly circular temple that rotates extremely slowly, and is open to followers of all beliefs. Hundreds of pilgrims flock to it yearly, further boosting the local tourist economy. Each faith has their own disciples and alcoves within, and it stands as shining example of equality and cooperation. Its symmetrical design is a triumph of engineering and denies any one faith a place of supremacy.
The lower portion of Harljaden, colloquially known as the Workhouse, is a mess of foundries, textile mills, warehouses and tight packed, cheap housing. There are frequent worker uprisings, protesting the imbalance of political, financial and social power between the upper and lower cities. These conflicts often end in bloody street fighting in back alleys as the council guards work to keep the conflict out of sight of tourists.
Harljaden’s famous chief engineer and architect, Ekaterina Tofte, designed the Gearworks, a clockwork tangle of gears, flowing water, and industry. Her efforts created incredible mechanical feats, such as the rotation design of the Hringkirk, and the Gearworks themselves, which harness the waterfalls to power industrial systems throughout the city.
Jukka, the Slaver City
The barren yet beautiful Jukka region, with sharp mountain peaks, wide valleys, and the Straumn river gently meandering through to the coast, is overshadowed in Atreide minds by the city itself; a chaotic and deeply aggressive slaver stronghold. To the rare traveler, the region seems locked in time, a post-apocalyptic remnant, socially and technologically. Warbands wander the open valleys looking for easy prey, the city is in constant disrepair, and the Jukka Council exists in name only, powerless and silent. The only order in the region stems from the various dynasties that rule ever-shifting pockets of influence and territory and fund the roving warbands.
Jukka’s deepest foundations are built, literally and metaphorically, on slave labor. The rich and powerful have always profited off of slaves, and the buying and selling of slaves is an old and well respected business practice in Jukka. The other cities of Atreus may find the practice morally repugnant, but in Jukka you will find wholesalers, private entrepreneurs, and hunters all doing business.
While not common knowledge across Atreus, Jukka is dominated by a collection of powerful dark mages, who for generations have used a form of blood magic to enslave and torture. These mages operate openly, puppeteering the bodies of their slaves and leading decadent lives. They travel the city on slave-carried palanquins draped in finery, and all business in Jukka caters to them. The ruling council is comprised of non-mages, but each member is in the pocket of one of these Blood Families, living in constant fear of being made a blood puppet.
The Blood Families control large swaths of territory across the Jukka region, and their warbands are always looking to get more for their masters, be it land, wealth, or new slaves. Plenty of travelers through the region have never returned, sucked up by one family or another. Officially, the Jukka Council condemns such actions, but all of Atreus knows that Jukka is a few offenses away from being wiped out by the combined forces of the other cities.
Jukka’s deepest foundations are built, literally and metaphorically, on slave labor. The rich and powerful have always profited off of slaves, and the buying and selling of slaves is an old and well respected business practice in Jukka. The other cities of Atreus may find the practice morally repugnant, but in Jukka you will find wholesalers, private entrepreneurs, and hunters all doing business.
While not common knowledge across Atreus, Jukka is dominated by a collection of powerful dark mages, who for generations have used a form of blood magic to enslave and torture. These mages operate openly, puppeteering the bodies of their slaves and leading decadent lives. They travel the city on slave-carried palanquins draped in finery, and all business in Jukka caters to them. The ruling council is comprised of non-mages, but each member is in the pocket of one of these Blood Families, living in constant fear of being made a blood puppet.
The Blood Families control large swaths of territory across the Jukka region, and their warbands are always looking to get more for their masters, be it land, wealth, or new slaves. Plenty of travelers through the region have never returned, sucked up by one family or another. Officially, the Jukka Council condemns such actions, but all of Atreus knows that Jukka is a few offenses away from being wiped out by the combined forces of the other cities.
Kilfanora, the Capitol
Far to the East, in the Tilkna Bay, at the merging of the Laekrn, Straumn, and Laugrn rivers, is the mega-city of Kilfanora: a modern, ringed complex broken into concentric districts, with wide layers of shops, factories and homes. Floodplains surround the city for miles, creating some of the richest farmland on Atreus and providing food for both the city itself and communities far beyond. Kilfanora is the height of political, social, and economic power on Atreus, and is the most modern.
The Amethyst Ring - Vethr District
The very center of Kilfanora is home to the rich and powerful, socially and politically. The Kilfanoran Council may not officially rule beyond the city walls and the adjacent farmland, but their influence extends far and wide. Councils from the other major cities often seek advice or support from Kilfanora, and take their cues from legal methods or precedents set by the Kilfanoran Council. Embassies from the other cities are in this district, and political intrigue runs rampant. There are lavish gardens, luxurious restaurants, and private mansions for the rich and famous. Highly exclusive shops cater to their specific tastes, and only the best performers and artists from Harljaden are invited here.
The Emerald Ring - Stefna District
The largest and most active district of Kilfanora is also known as the Market, where, as expected, most of the city’s business is conducted. There are trade centers and hubs for the various guilds and agencies from around Atreus, such as the Varanan Guard, as well as the largest outlet for the Storblest Economic Council. The Market is also one of the few places on Atreus where magical items are bought and sold regularly.
The Sapphire Ring - Gryt District
In the outer layer of Kilfanora, factories and mills create much of the technical and machine power of Atreus. Complex farming and mining equipment is manufactured here and shipped around the continent, and the raw materials and metals needed are stored here as well. Portions of the Tilkna bay flow through this district, allowing for rapid transit of cargo.
The Ruby Ring - Ketka District
Ketka surrounds every other district of Kilfanora, and houses the citizens who work in the other districts and nearby farmlands. Ketka is made up of middle-class housing and simple shops, and is generally considered a district to pass through rather than stay in. Interestingly, Ketka is also home to most of the organized criminal elements in Kilfanora, although the council denies this.
The Amethyst Ring - Vethr District
The very center of Kilfanora is home to the rich and powerful, socially and politically. The Kilfanoran Council may not officially rule beyond the city walls and the adjacent farmland, but their influence extends far and wide. Councils from the other major cities often seek advice or support from Kilfanora, and take their cues from legal methods or precedents set by the Kilfanoran Council. Embassies from the other cities are in this district, and political intrigue runs rampant. There are lavish gardens, luxurious restaurants, and private mansions for the rich and famous. Highly exclusive shops cater to their specific tastes, and only the best performers and artists from Harljaden are invited here.
The Emerald Ring - Stefna District
The largest and most active district of Kilfanora is also known as the Market, where, as expected, most of the city’s business is conducted. There are trade centers and hubs for the various guilds and agencies from around Atreus, such as the Varanan Guard, as well as the largest outlet for the Storblest Economic Council. The Market is also one of the few places on Atreus where magical items are bought and sold regularly.
The Sapphire Ring - Gryt District
In the outer layer of Kilfanora, factories and mills create much of the technical and machine power of Atreus. Complex farming and mining equipment is manufactured here and shipped around the continent, and the raw materials and metals needed are stored here as well. Portions of the Tilkna bay flow through this district, allowing for rapid transit of cargo.
The Ruby Ring - Ketka District
Ketka surrounds every other district of Kilfanora, and houses the citizens who work in the other districts and nearby farmlands. Ketka is made up of middle-class housing and simple shops, and is generally considered a district to pass through rather than stay in. Interestingly, Ketka is also home to most of the organized criminal elements in Kilfanora, although the council denies this.
The Reinn
Atreus is home to many forests, and around the oldest and deepest there is one consistent superstition: The Reinn. In villages and towns along the edges of old growth, locals tell stories about hideous, twisted shapes, part human, part tree, that scoop up and eat any that trespass on the deep woods. They talk of evil spirits that can lure the unwary to their doom, and say to never let your eyes linger on any mysterious lights you see twinkling in the dark undergrowth. There are stories of trees rustling and shaking on windless days, and dense fog that creeps and slithers at the forest edge. Lumber-smiths will travel miles away to avoid cutting old growth, and never beyond the immediate treeline, while hunters stick to open plains and abandon a hunt if prey flees into the forest. Hunters claim that woodland creatures, particularly deer and elk, are the eyes of the Reinn, and there is a strong stigma against any horned creatures across most of Atreus: They are seen as ill omens, and decorative antlers would be a deadly invitation to the Reinn spirits. These feelings and stigmas exist even outside of superstitious woodland communities, and while few people in the major cities could name the Reinn, you will find no antlered trophies in people's homes, and they couldn't explain why: It simply isn't done.
The origins of the Reinn myth are unknown, but the first recorded instances of the name arise just after The Great Mistake, although few records survived that event. There is some evidence of the Reinn myth in forest ruins, ancient or abandoned settlements slowly being absorbed by the forests, but expeditions to unearth them are rare and unwelcome by the locals.
Research by Varanan and Kilfanoran scholars has produced a small list of key facts about the Reinn: While the details are unclear, anyone that lingers in old growth forests has reported extreme unease, and a sensation of a tangible, conscious presence somewhere deeper in the woods. Practitioners of magic are the most acutely affected, but in all cases, prolonged exposure has inevitably resulted in psychosis. Violent delusions and aggression follow quickly after, and the afflicted will throw themselves into the deep woods if not restrained, never to be seen again. This condition is extremely difficult to detect, and anti-magic materials or wards have only a limited effect. Research is ongoing, the Varanan Guard is actively encouraging local superstitions, for the safety of all, and the Reinn phenomenon remains one of the most mysterious aspects of Atreus.
For more information, see Short Story: The Name in the Fog
The origins of the Reinn myth are unknown, but the first recorded instances of the name arise just after The Great Mistake, although few records survived that event. There is some evidence of the Reinn myth in forest ruins, ancient or abandoned settlements slowly being absorbed by the forests, but expeditions to unearth them are rare and unwelcome by the locals.
Research by Varanan and Kilfanoran scholars has produced a small list of key facts about the Reinn: While the details are unclear, anyone that lingers in old growth forests has reported extreme unease, and a sensation of a tangible, conscious presence somewhere deeper in the woods. Practitioners of magic are the most acutely affected, but in all cases, prolonged exposure has inevitably resulted in psychosis. Violent delusions and aggression follow quickly after, and the afflicted will throw themselves into the deep woods if not restrained, never to be seen again. This condition is extremely difficult to detect, and anti-magic materials or wards have only a limited effect. Research is ongoing, the Varanan Guard is actively encouraging local superstitions, for the safety of all, and the Reinn phenomenon remains one of the most mysterious aspects of Atreus.
For more information, see Short Story: The Name in the Fog
Sallatun Boglands
In the Southwest corner of Atreus, the landscape is a bleak and unwelcoming bog called Sallatun. A treacherous and cold region, Sallatun is nevertheless a source of many useful resources, and the narrow trade roads wind their way delicately through the bogs to Nurmis and Varanas, the two main sources of civilization in the boglands. Between those towns are constant dangers: Several monstrous species, including ethereal ones, linger in the water, preying on birds, deer, and other wetland fauna. None have any objections to eating humans. Sections of the boglands are now being drained and cleared, both for safety and industrial purposes, although this has a side effect of compacting the monster population and making other areas more dangerous.
Nurmis, the Ancient Trade-smith
Nurmis, one of the oldest locations on Atreus, is a densely-packed trade city deep in the Boglands. The locals harvest peat, bog-wood, and berries of many varieties. Crafters use the bog-wood to produce high quality pipes and furniture, and peat is a major export direct to Riddarhold, where it is favored as a fuel source. As the peat mining process shifts and alters the wetlands, ruins both recent and ancient are uncovered, and researchers, archaeologists, and treasure hunters use Nurmis as a staging ground for expeditions into the bogs to hunt for treasure or unique species. Atreidai ruins are highly common in this area, in particular. Most Nurmites are an aggressively environmental people, and believe that protection of their ecosystem is essential to their continued existence. They mine peat carefully and slowly, allowing the wetlands to recover, and impose strict sanctions against excessive human impact on the local environment. This stance puts them into regular conflict with their sister city, Varanas, and as one city grows, so does the other.
Varanas, the Fortress
Varanas Keep is a ancient fortification above the boglands in the small Kalmar mountain range. From here, the Varanan Guard operates across Atreus, hunting dangerous mages, monsters, and enforcing law and order. The Varanan Guard is making progress against the monstrous species in the region, draining and harvesting the boglands and pushing back the remaining monster population, expanding the borders of their city and making the land arable for their growing civilian population. This has led to conflict with Nurmis, as the monsters are being driven towards Nurmis and the Nurmites object to the changing ecological landscape.
Storblest, the Vault
Hidden deep in the Hryggr mountains, the city of Storblest sits behind layers of defenses, a honeycomb of vaults and locks protecting mineral-rich tunnels that stretch for miles into the mountains.
The Jewel Vaults of Storblest are the largest depository of precious gems on Atreus. Here, amethysts, emeralds, sapphires, and rubies are carved and stamped with the symbol of the Storblest Economic Council. These gems are carefully doled out each year, and the trade caravans moving this currency around Atreus to the various trading houses are heavily defended, extremely secretive, and rarely seen.
Historically, the society of Storblest traded their mineral wealth for food and supplies with other Atreides directly, bartering out gems on a case by case basis from a simple mining town nestled in the hills. As the gems started to solidify in trade value, Storblest began to standardize the size and shape of the gems they traded. These gems quickly spread outward from Storblest, and became a trustworthy token of exchange and value. As the mines deepened into the mountainside, the Storblesters built increasingly secure vaults to store their growing reserves, and organized the miners and traders into a union designed to maintain the high value of their gems. Security tightened and tightened until Storblest became a vault in itself, sealed away behind layered gates, and only a select few ever reach the deepest levels, where the gem vaults are warded and guarded in countless ways.
Today, the Economic Council jealously protects and claims any source of amethysts, emeralds, sapphires or rubies on Atreus, buying out anyone who stumbles onto a new deposit and sealing it behind their custom locks. Prospectors look forward to finding a new vein to sell to the Guild, although occasionally some try to hold the claim for themselves. They tend to disappear or suffer unfortunate mining accidents.
The Economic Council trading houses are sprinkled around Atreus, and customers can barter their goods for standardized currency there. The largest depository outside of Storblest itself is in Kilfanora, where they hold significant political sway.
The Jewel Vaults of Storblest are the largest depository of precious gems on Atreus. Here, amethysts, emeralds, sapphires, and rubies are carved and stamped with the symbol of the Storblest Economic Council. These gems are carefully doled out each year, and the trade caravans moving this currency around Atreus to the various trading houses are heavily defended, extremely secretive, and rarely seen.
Historically, the society of Storblest traded their mineral wealth for food and supplies with other Atreides directly, bartering out gems on a case by case basis from a simple mining town nestled in the hills. As the gems started to solidify in trade value, Storblest began to standardize the size and shape of the gems they traded. These gems quickly spread outward from Storblest, and became a trustworthy token of exchange and value. As the mines deepened into the mountainside, the Storblesters built increasingly secure vaults to store their growing reserves, and organized the miners and traders into a union designed to maintain the high value of their gems. Security tightened and tightened until Storblest became a vault in itself, sealed away behind layered gates, and only a select few ever reach the deepest levels, where the gem vaults are warded and guarded in countless ways.
Today, the Economic Council jealously protects and claims any source of amethysts, emeralds, sapphires or rubies on Atreus, buying out anyone who stumbles onto a new deposit and sealing it behind their custom locks. Prospectors look forward to finding a new vein to sell to the Guild, although occasionally some try to hold the claim for themselves. They tend to disappear or suffer unfortunate mining accidents.
The Economic Council trading houses are sprinkled around Atreus, and customers can barter their goods for standardized currency there. The largest depository outside of Storblest itself is in Kilfanora, where they hold significant political sway.
The Dahlbrant Canyon
Compiled from multiple sources marked by different colors: Varanan Guard records, Kilfanoran histories, Explorer’s Guild field reports, witness testimonies of Wizenthal the Archivist and former slave Adam Wolfe.
One of the more striking features of Atreus, the Dahlbrant canyon in the East is also one of the least explored.
Running hundreds of miles East to West, the canyon is known for having a honeycomb of unexplored caves and tunnels, extremely hostile flora & fauna, and consistently bad weather. Since there is not much in terms of mineral wealth or arable land, it remains mostly uncolonized by humans.
However, it is extremely colonized by dragons.
While other wildlife in the region is also dangerous to humans, everything avoids the dragons, who fiercely protect the canyon and use it as a breeding ground. There are several known varieties of dragons, from smaller, wingless Sriða to the largest Grand Dragons. Although confirmed reports are sparse, it is likely that they prey on each other, as overall populations appear to remain low.
Plant life in the region is mostly hardy vines, nettles, and a small number of fruit-bearing plants, several of which are toxic to humans. Unfortunately, the safe plants look a lot like the toxic plants. Some tubers and cave lichen are also safe to eat, but are low in nutrients.
Researchers believe the canyon was formed in The Great Mistake along with many other prominent Atreides geologic features, such as the Thurr Plateau. The canyon itself is several hundred miles long, extremely arid, and ranges from over a mile wide at most, to a few feet at the least, with similar variation in height. These variances are not consistent or well documented, and are a major hindrance to travels, especially the dragons. Weather is also a factor, as steep canyon walls can trap strong winds and even entire thunderstorms. The plentiful cave network can provide regular shelter from inclement weather. However, the cave network is also home to several hostile creature populations, even some semi-sentient tribal cultures of non-humans, who are extremely territorial.
One of the more striking features of Atreus, the Dahlbrant canyon in the East is also one of the least explored.
Running hundreds of miles East to West, the canyon is known for having a honeycomb of unexplored caves and tunnels, extremely hostile flora & fauna, and consistently bad weather. Since there is not much in terms of mineral wealth or arable land, it remains mostly uncolonized by humans.
However, it is extremely colonized by dragons.
While other wildlife in the region is also dangerous to humans, everything avoids the dragons, who fiercely protect the canyon and use it as a breeding ground. There are several known varieties of dragons, from smaller, wingless Sriða to the largest Grand Dragons. Although confirmed reports are sparse, it is likely that they prey on each other, as overall populations appear to remain low.
Plant life in the region is mostly hardy vines, nettles, and a small number of fruit-bearing plants, several of which are toxic to humans. Unfortunately, the safe plants look a lot like the toxic plants. Some tubers and cave lichen are also safe to eat, but are low in nutrients.
Researchers believe the canyon was formed in The Great Mistake along with many other prominent Atreides geologic features, such as the Thurr Plateau. The canyon itself is several hundred miles long, extremely arid, and ranges from over a mile wide at most, to a few feet at the least, with similar variation in height. These variances are not consistent or well documented, and are a major hindrance to travels, especially the dragons. Weather is also a factor, as steep canyon walls can trap strong winds and even entire thunderstorms. The plentiful cave network can provide regular shelter from inclement weather. However, the cave network is also home to several hostile creature populations, even some semi-sentient tribal cultures of non-humans, who are extremely territorial.
The Thurr Plateau, the Riddarhold
Riddarhold is difficult to pinpoint on a map. Only the Riddars themselves can say where exactly the ‘center’ of the city is, and they tend to chuckle at the concept. Riddarhold is best defined as a loose collection of walls, tunnels, and structures throughout the frosty Thurr Plateau, sitting high above the rest of Atreus, between the Hryggr and Skortha mountain ranges. From the solemn and silent Jarta tombs in the far North to the Harlst quarry in the Southwest, Riddarhold is a complex network of segmented land, a conglomerate designed for fierce independence and deliberate isolation. Each section of Riddarhold manages and maintains itself, and could easily break away from the others, if so inclined. But ask a traveler who has visited Riddarhold what they remember most, and it won’t be the architecture, all tight blocks corridors and sealed off rooms, or the deeply impressive strip mines, it will be the Hafrass.
The Riddars have been carefully breeding gigantic goat-like creatures for generations, selecting the largest and strongest. They are used like industrial machines, shifting house-sized blocks of stone or ice, as well as war mounts and caravans. A fully laden Hafrass coming down a road, saddle bags full of goods, is a sight few forget, let alone seeing one armored and charging. Their care and use is central to Riddar society, and they are treated with great respect by the Riddar people. Their fur is used for clothing, their meat, once cured, can remain satisfying for years, and their waste powers the complicated and secretive steam system that heats the Riddarhold.
Despite the bleak exterior and brutal weather, the interior of Riddarhold is reported as very pleasant, if cramped. The stone block walls and narrow tunnels are softened by thick furs, lush fabrics, and vibrant colors, the air scented with spices. Layers of airlocks help trap in heat produced by the unique steam heating system, one of Riddarhold’s many proprietary technologies. The people, once out of their outdoor furs, dress in almost comically bright and varied colors, and the imposed closeness of their environment has led to a very tight knit, familial culture. It is said that they are as warm and loving indoors as they are harsh and cold outdoors, harsh as the weather, a duality born on necessity.
‘It is said’ and ‘reported’ because visitors are almost never allowed beyond designated trading areas. There is a deep cultural fear of disease in Riddarhold, and Riddars hold very strict hygiene rules compared to most Atreides. Being allowed into the more private areas of the Hold is considered a privilege, and is reserved for those who have earned the trust and respect of a Hold family. Those who have earned this trust rarely share what they have seen in detail, either out of respect or, perhaps, fear.
The Riddars have been carefully breeding gigantic goat-like creatures for generations, selecting the largest and strongest. They are used like industrial machines, shifting house-sized blocks of stone or ice, as well as war mounts and caravans. A fully laden Hafrass coming down a road, saddle bags full of goods, is a sight few forget, let alone seeing one armored and charging. Their care and use is central to Riddar society, and they are treated with great respect by the Riddar people. Their fur is used for clothing, their meat, once cured, can remain satisfying for years, and their waste powers the complicated and secretive steam system that heats the Riddarhold.
Despite the bleak exterior and brutal weather, the interior of Riddarhold is reported as very pleasant, if cramped. The stone block walls and narrow tunnels are softened by thick furs, lush fabrics, and vibrant colors, the air scented with spices. Layers of airlocks help trap in heat produced by the unique steam heating system, one of Riddarhold’s many proprietary technologies. The people, once out of their outdoor furs, dress in almost comically bright and varied colors, and the imposed closeness of their environment has led to a very tight knit, familial culture. It is said that they are as warm and loving indoors as they are harsh and cold outdoors, harsh as the weather, a duality born on necessity.
‘It is said’ and ‘reported’ because visitors are almost never allowed beyond designated trading areas. There is a deep cultural fear of disease in Riddarhold, and Riddars hold very strict hygiene rules compared to most Atreides. Being allowed into the more private areas of the Hold is considered a privilege, and is reserved for those who have earned the trust and respect of a Hold family. Those who have earned this trust rarely share what they have seen in detail, either out of respect or, perhaps, fear.
Ritten, the Front Gates
The main gateway into Riddarhold proper is the first layer of privacy visitors must breach, and plenty never do. Those that don’t have to satisfy their curiosity in Ritten, a busy trading hub just outside the gates into the Plateau. Here, representatives from the trading families within Riddarhold do the majority of their business, moving goods in and out of the 'Hold. Obtaining permission to proceed into the Plateau requires the trust and respect of the trading families, or select powerful individuals, so Ritten is full of extremely polite people, all hoping to impress the right person.
Jarta, the Tombs
The ice tombs of Jarta are part of the Northeastern section of Riddarhold, out on the open glaciers. Here the rich and powerful families of Atreus are buried in individual family crypts, guarded by quiet and solemn Riddars, who tend to the tombs and guard them. Access is strictly controlled, as many of the dead are entombed with valuable items. Thieves make frequent attempts on the tombs despite the remote location, and the Riddars who guard them are among the most dangerous and seasoned warriors on Atreus. Ice giants regularly assault the tombs, seeking treasure and revenge for their ancestral ejection from the region. The sound of armored Hafrass clashing with these giants peals across the ice far to the South. “The Bells of Jarta,” the locals call it, though likely just to unnerve visitors.
Traenen, the Passage
There is only one safe route across the Hryggr mountains that bisect Atreus: The Passage.
Traenen, also known as the Passage, is a subterranean city inside a collection of natural caverns and tunnels, stretching right across the Hryggr range, linking East and West. The Vatn river springs from deep inside the Passage, idling slowly out and across Western Atreus all the way to Harljaden.
Lit primarily by bio-luminescent plant and animal life, Traenen sprawls and spreads in all directions through the mountains. The Traenens are a mercurial people, and often tunnels will be abandoned unexpectedly and never sealed off. Bridges will go unfinished, sinkholes unplugged. Dangerous animal life is frequent and varied, and can almost always see you before you see it. Moving through the Passage without a guide is incredibly dangerous, and stupid. The economy of Traenen is fueled by this danger: Trade convoys pay heavily for skilled Guides, as does anyone interested in a speedy, warm trip through the mountains.
The Traenens are a brash, wild people. Capable of minor magic by majority, they fill the Passage with sound and noise, shouting across caverns and carving magical graffiti in the halls. Despite their impressive architectural achievements, it can hardly be called organized. They build and tunnel in a ramshackle and chaotic way, no safety rails in sight. Cranes shifting cargo on and off the Vatn swing back and forth, craft- and tradespeople running here and there. It is easy to get lost even in the more populous areas, hence the need for Guides. The hecticness and chaos is a breeding ground for petty crime against travelers, but the Guides are a respected force, and travelers bring wealth, so as long as you stay with your guide, you are left alone.
The main section of the Passage is a multi-lane highway running the width of the Hryggr, twisting and turning through the mountains. It is well lit, with frequent rest areas and overnight taverns. By fastest route, the entire journey can be made in a day, but that method is by cleverly constructed rail cars owned and managed by Traenen, and is extremely expensive. The slowest route is a walking path that skirts the highway on either side, hence the rest areas and taverns, but is free, minus the price of your Guide, of course. The other lanes are utilized by carts and caravans, which can be commissioned for cargo or passengers. The faster your trip, the more expensive it becomes, as well as safer. Side passages and tunnels connect to the main highway, but any guide would tell you to stay clear of them. Sometimes treasure hunters or the foolishly curious wander down them. Sometimes they even return.
Traenen, also known as the Passage, is a subterranean city inside a collection of natural caverns and tunnels, stretching right across the Hryggr range, linking East and West. The Vatn river springs from deep inside the Passage, idling slowly out and across Western Atreus all the way to Harljaden.
Lit primarily by bio-luminescent plant and animal life, Traenen sprawls and spreads in all directions through the mountains. The Traenens are a mercurial people, and often tunnels will be abandoned unexpectedly and never sealed off. Bridges will go unfinished, sinkholes unplugged. Dangerous animal life is frequent and varied, and can almost always see you before you see it. Moving through the Passage without a guide is incredibly dangerous, and stupid. The economy of Traenen is fueled by this danger: Trade convoys pay heavily for skilled Guides, as does anyone interested in a speedy, warm trip through the mountains.
The Traenens are a brash, wild people. Capable of minor magic by majority, they fill the Passage with sound and noise, shouting across caverns and carving magical graffiti in the halls. Despite their impressive architectural achievements, it can hardly be called organized. They build and tunnel in a ramshackle and chaotic way, no safety rails in sight. Cranes shifting cargo on and off the Vatn swing back and forth, craft- and tradespeople running here and there. It is easy to get lost even in the more populous areas, hence the need for Guides. The hecticness and chaos is a breeding ground for petty crime against travelers, but the Guides are a respected force, and travelers bring wealth, so as long as you stay with your guide, you are left alone.
The main section of the Passage is a multi-lane highway running the width of the Hryggr, twisting and turning through the mountains. It is well lit, with frequent rest areas and overnight taverns. By fastest route, the entire journey can be made in a day, but that method is by cleverly constructed rail cars owned and managed by Traenen, and is extremely expensive. The slowest route is a walking path that skirts the highway on either side, hence the rest areas and taverns, but is free, minus the price of your Guide, of course. The other lanes are utilized by carts and caravans, which can be commissioned for cargo or passengers. The faster your trip, the more expensive it becomes, as well as safer. Side passages and tunnels connect to the main highway, but any guide would tell you to stay clear of them. Sometimes treasure hunters or the foolishly curious wander down them. Sometimes they even return.