Lore: Important Locations
The following section covers various locations throughout Havokk's landscape that carry significant character or story importance. Havokk, as a sphere, is relatable to Earth, regarding the overall ecosystem and wildlife per continental region. Species of all varieties are variably different, having been adapted to their regions, though all Species still belong to a singular, defined unit (Mortal, Dragonkind, Sharkmen, etc.).
For each region or location, a profile of each area or significant surrounding area is included below. The information is provided to assist with geographical and story planning during a Campaign-format adventure. At this time, there are references to locations, such as Dungeons, that are incomplete. As future game content is released, these sections will be updated to include those cards, quests, and maps (if applicable). Please stay tuned for full in-depth Dungeon descriptions and individual Campaign adventures based on these locations! The current reference to Dungeons for these areas is for the content that will be released with later game chapters.
Click on a tab or expanding section below to learn more about each story location:
| Agnememnon Deep in the heart of a steaming, emerald jungle lies a nearly perfect circle of open land, a half-mile-radius clearing carved from the wilderness in an age long forgotten. The dense canopy presses close on every side, forming a living wall of towering trees draped in vines and moss. Within the circle rise what remains of two colossal step pyramids, relics of the Nelven city that once stood proudly. Originally one of the main capital cities of the Nelven and named after an ancient being from their Species, Agnememnon is now in ruins and occupied by Chimeraxion and the Order of the Remnant. The main structure of Agnememnon was the large central pyramid, which was used for the Nelven elders and council members to convene in. The pyramid was open to all, but specific chambers and areas were off-limits to those outside the Nelven hierarchy. They regard the pyramids not just as monuments, but as conduits of arcane power, their geometry and carved glyphs aligning with the flow of Havokk's natural energies.
As a city and cultural hub of the Nelven, Agnememnon was originally home to about 30,000 Nelven and was previously their largest permanent settlement. As a Species, the Nelven had developed complex water and waste management systems, along with advanced stone and masonry developments. The ground within the clearing is a mixture of paved causeways and moss-patched flagstones from the original temple city. The soil is dark and rich, prone to sudden eruptions of wild greenery whenever left untended. Seasonal rains collect in cisterns and reservoirs carved from stone and connected by narrow aqueducts. Streams diverted from the surrounding jungle feed these basins, ensuring the city never thirsts. At the peak of their civilization, they were only rivaled technologically by the Squirk artificers and builders that the Nelven themselves had once taught these trades. Compared to large metropolitan cities, Agnememnon was considered the height of the Nelven species' accomplishments.
Current Agnememnon holds the ruins of this once great home to the Nelven. The air is heavy with the scent of wet stone, orchids, and nexxusite. At dawn and dusk, mists rise from the surrounding trees and drift into the open, cloaking the pyramids in silver haze. Nights resound with the cries of jungle beasts beyond the clearing, though inside the circle, the soundscape is softened by the ever-present hum of Nexxusite and the occasional chanting from within the temples. Elevated walkways connect many structures, though not all of them are stable, allowing inhabitants to pass above the bustle of those below. Magical lanterns of nexxusite provide a soft, sustained glow, providing the avenues after sunset with lit walkways. Enchanted gardens yield exotic fruits and herbs that thrive outside their natural seasons because of their interaction with chaotic energy and Ytaxian influence.
The rift that allowed Aribus, Lylath, and Ytaxia to enter Havokk opened above Agnememnon, and with their explosive arrival, the majority of the central Pyramid was blown apart immediately. The shockwave of their arrival and impact on Havokk damaged most smaller structures, and the fallout of the initial impact left many Nelven wounded or slain. Most of the city's population was evacuated in the following hours and fled to the surrounding jungle terrain. Most Nelven relocated to their other capital city at the time, Dhulahan. In the fallout of the impact, an unusual energy was seen emitting from the impact zone, and at the center of the crater was a crystal flower.
As Nelven researchers attempted to study the crystal, they found themselves subjected to various physical ailments and mutations, unaware of the effects the chaotic energy was having on them. It was deemed too dangerous to further study by the Nelven leaders, and the ruins of Agnememnon were abandoned. As the Nelven deserters or those outcast because of their changes remained at the site, they eventually saw the birth of Chimeraxion from the flower's energy. Chimeraxion and those now known as the "Order of the Remnant" occupy this hub of chaotic energy amidst the ruins of this once great Nelven city.
The jungle outside is nearly impenetrable. Massive trees loom like pillars, their roots forming ridges taller than several people. Vines as thick as ropes dangle from the canopy, and the undergrowth is dense with ferns, broad-leaf plants, and hidden pools. Beyond the clearing, the land rises and falls unpredictably, forming hidden gullies and moss-choked ruins from an age when this jungle was home to even greater wonders. Traveling more than a mile from the city is arduous without guides or magic; every direction is a green labyrinth. Remain in the jungle at night, and you'll have only the faint glow of Nexxusite to guide your path. |
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| Celestial Thicket A place both beautiful and haunting, the Celestial Thicket lies in the shadow of Agnememnon's ruins and consists of a vast collection of sacred sites and jungle terrain. The various markers and sacred sites hidden within the jungle inspire devotion to the Nelven celestial beings, Dhulahan and Agnememnon. These markers also act as waypoints or markers for Nelven travelers on their way to or from Agnememnon. Many describe the thicket itself as a place where time seems to have forgotten this passage, where the echoes of a past long gone hum through the air like a distant song. It is a sanctuary for the lost, the curious, and the brave, but also a warning to those who would seek to disturb the delicate balance of magic that lingers in the air.
The jungle is alive with strange, radiant energy. Nexxusite crystals, in hues ranging from deep amethyst to brilliant turquoise, rise from the earth in clusters of varying sizes, embedded in the roots of ancient trees or jutting from moss-covered stones. These crystals are no mere stones; they are conduits, absorbing ambient power from the land and resonating with the ancient energies that linger. The air hums with their presence, a constant low vibration felt in the chest, like the pulse of Havokk itself. Some say these crystals are the lifeblood of the region, their magic infusing the land with an energy that can heal or harm, depending on the intent of those who dare to tap into it.
The trees closer to the ruins of Agnememnon are more enriched and physically altered in appearance or form compared to the treeline around the outer limits, the effects of the chaotic energy emanating from the "Ytaxian Bloom" having a direct influence on the wildlife and plantlife in its vicinity. Creating a sturdy wall of branch and vine, the jungle almost seems to be sentient when admitting access to the inner clearing. Wildlife and animals of all varieties are found in the Celestial Thicket, though the closer to the jungle's center you get, the more variations of common wildlife or full Ytaxians are commonly encountered.
The canopy above is where the region gets its name, named by the Nelven because it is "a place where the heavens and Havokk meet in a dance of light," and is a mesmerizing tapestry of glowing life. Bioluminescent fungi, flowers, and creatures, dragonflies with wings like stained glass, glowing beetles, and floating, translucent jellyfish, to name a few, illuminate the darkened forest floor, casting a soft, ethereal glow that mimics a night sky. This celestial illumination creates the illusion of an artificial sky above, even in the deepest hours of night, where constellations of light seem to shift and flicker among the leaves. |
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| Dhulahan The city of Dhulahan stands as the shining heart of Nelven resilience and magical mastery. With pale stone towers etched in flowing runes, terraces lined with flowering trees, and crystalline bridges arcing gracefully over canals of shimmering water, the city radiates quiet majesty. Built in reverence to the legendary Dhula, its very foundations are infused with enchantments to preserve its beauty and safeguard its people. Ancient wards woven into the city’s perimeter still hum faintly at dusk, a reminder of both vigilance and power. Dhulahan resides on the polar opposite of Havokk and Agnememnon. Dhulahan and Agnememnon's locations were specifically chosen because of the concentration of magical energy in the region surrounding them.
The central Pyramid of Dhulahan, a vast structure veined with glowing lines of silver, houses the High Mages, who serve as both guardians and rulers. The High Mages act as the governing council of the species, elected by their peers based on their overall capability as a leader and as a mage. Their leader, Kinedas Liadon, has guided the council for over a century, tempering wisdom with compassion but always bearing the weight of old prophecies. He was there when the events that led to the destruction of Agnememnon occurred. He reserves hope that the Ytaxian arrival unintentionally destroyed their once proud home, but has otherwise reserved his interaction with Ytaxians due to a prophecy once foretold by ancient Nelven mages about visitors from the sky bringing about the end of days. His leadership and the city itself are haunted by the fall of Agnememnon, and though Dhulahan is strong, there is a sense of fragile grandeur in its beauty carefully maintained in a world that may yet shift against it.
The great magical university, Valeth, Institute of Wizardry, rises adjacent to the Pyramid. Its halls are vast and light-filled, its libraries boundless, and its classrooms enchanted with wards to keep the lessons within from spilling into the world outside. For many, Valeth is the true jewel of Dhulahan: a place where young learners and select outsiders are trained in the discipline of magic, where generations of mages carry forward Dhula’s vision of enriching all life through the wonders of spellcraft.
Though fewer Nelven remain compared to the golden ages of their people, the city still thrives with a population of roughly 20,000 scholars, artisans, apprentices, and families dedicated to the pursuit of magic and knowledge. Dhulahan is not only the capital of the elves but also the foremost center of Spellcraft study in Havokk, rivaled by none in its breadth of knowledge and authority. |
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| Drok Scurat's Jaw's What was once a towering mountain range is now a landscape shattered by divine fury. During his final confrontation against Thanatos during the Elder Dragonkind War, the villainous Armanos cast a powerful spell intended to wipe out all life on Havokk. Thanatos consumed the blast and redirected it at Armanos, defeating him. Even after absorbing the brunt of the blast, the surrounding area was disintegrated, creating an artificial valley at the base of a mountain. The valley formed in the wake of Armanos’ devastating spell is no ordinary scar upon the land; it is an open wound upon Havokk itself. Echoed outcries of pain and suffering permeate the air, and a general foulness and feeling of uneasiness leave many wary of even traveling near the region. The entire area is regarded as a cursed mass grave and is often avoided unless necessary.
Jagged cliffs rise like fangs, curved in such a way that from afar the formation looks like the gaping maw of a dragon, jaws frozen mid-roar. Black stone and scorched earth form the outer ring, and as one ventures inward, the world itself seems to darken. The sky above the crater grows unnaturally dim, regardless of time of day. The sun, when visible, seems a pale and sickly shade, as though its light cannot penetrate the stain left behind by Armanos’ wrath. Ash drifts constantly, carried by unpredictable winds that scream through the rocky “teeth” of the valley. The air tastes of brimstone and copper.
At the crater’s base, rivers of molten rock flow through cracked earth, sending up plumes of fire and smoke that give the impression of a beast still breathing. The Wrathi tribe believes that this “breath” is Armanos himself, cursed to remain buried beneath the ground, endlessly exhaling hate into the sky. This place is now believed to be cursed by the Wrathi people, and it was renamed “Drok Scurat’s Jaws” because of the tragic event.
The land resists life: what little vegetation clings to the outer rim grows twisted and pale, while animals that dare remain are often warped into nightmarish reflections of themselves. Most travelers do not go beyond the “teeth” of the Jaws, for those who do speak of whispers echoing in the rocks, phantom screams, and the sensation of countless eyes following them in the dark. |
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| Dunewrought Dunewrought rises like a mirage from the golden dunes of southern Havokk, its cylindrical form and plume of black smoke visible for miles across the desert. From the outside, it appears as though a colossal iron barrel has been half-buried in the sands, its outer plating scorched and rusted by years of sun and grit. Inside, however, the city hums with constant activity. Steam vents hiss, gears grind, and brass pipes clatter with heat as molten metal surges through them. The interior walls of the great cylinder are lined with stacked housing complexes, platforms, and catwalks, all threaded together with bridges of riveted steel. The “floor” is dominated by a series of forges, gearworks, and assembly halls where machinery is crafted and shipped out across Havokk. Airships moor at docking spires protruding from the rim, and caravans of traders and Squirk tinkerers frequently set out into the wastes.
Dunewrought is the home of Sam, Squirk's financier and hero, or at least the home where he was raised. Abandoned at an early age in Dunewrought, the city is first and foremost known for being a manufacturing hub of airship and mechanical mount production line pieces, transported to other various manufacturing facilities throughout Havokk by Squirk traders and the Brokers of the One Tree. Located in a desert region of Southern Havokk, the city's primary structures are different types of factories, with housing and dwellings lining the interior walls of the cylinder. The city is primarily occupied by Squirks, but is often traveled by those passing through the desert in need of food and shelter. At the center lies a market with all manner of goods.
Despite being a technological marvel to outsiders, the Squirks consider Dunewrought a "work" colony and do not consider it anything more than a large-scale manufacturing facility. Because of the harsh desert environment, they are unable to grow large trees because of the restricted water supplies, and this lack of natural life makes them feel disconnected from Havokk, in turn creating a general sense of detachment from Dunewrought as a whole. Those who pride themselves on their work and creations still find purpose in their creations, but many Squirks who work out of the city are there to work specifically. Dunewrought itself is thought to only hold a population of about 500 permanent residents, and an ever-changing flow of individuals passing through or temporarily working in the region brings the bustling city closer to an average of 2500-3000 individuals regularly.
Life in Dunewrought is functional rather than comfortable. The permanent population treats it more as an endless shift than a home, though the market at its core bustles with outsiders. Merchants, mercenaries, and travelers are grateful for an oasis of civilization amid the sand. The clang of hammers and the scent of oil define the air, but so too does the low, constant hum of a community forged by necessity. Dunewrought may not be beloved by its makers, but it endures, a marvel of mechanical ingenuity etched into the desert. |
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| Elysian Refuge Nestled deep in the Southern hills, the Elysian Refuge is less a village and more a cluster of sanctuary dwellings, strung together by narrow footpaths and soft lantern-light. With no grand walls or structured streets, it feels like part of the landscape itself, homes built with timber and stone, their thatched or moss-covered roofs blending with the rolling green around them. Here, time seems to move more slowly, and the world’s burdens are softened by music and wind. Known for its beautiful view of the valley, the Elysian Refuge was the historical "stomping grounds" of Xavier, where his parents once settled to retire from their life of adventure as traveling musicians.
The settlement’s name was well-earned. The valley’s natural acoustics are famous across the land. Songs, laughter, and even casual conversation carry and echo through the hills in a way that feels both magical and serene. Travelers often remark that the air itself seems to sing. Because of this, the Refuge has long been considered a retreat for musicians, poets, and adventurers seeking inspiration or rest. The legacy of Xavier’s parents, who once performed across Havokk before retiring here, lingers as part of the village’s story.
Arannis Veyra, better known by his performance name Softstring, is the current elected leader of Elysian Refuge. Once a celebrated traveling bard who performed across Havokk, Arannis was renowned for his mastery of the lute and harp, and for his voice that was said to “soothe quarrels and still storms.” In his youth, he wandered with troupes of musicians and adventurers, weaving song into tales of heroism and heartbreak alike. Though he retired decades ago, the memory of his music remains legendary in certain circles. Arannis now serves his people not with grand performances, but with quiet wisdom and care. Tall and silver-haired, with deep-set eyes and a weathered face, he exudes calm in every word. Villagers often say he leads with the same rhythm he once played: gentle, steady, and always mindful of harmony. Though he never sought power, his election as leader was unanimous, as the community trusts his judgment and his gift for bringing people together.
Though his hands are stiff with age, Arannis still plays the lute on rare occasions, most often at gatherings in the Resting Lyre Tavern, where his music is treated with reverence. His songs now carry the weight of years and are as much lessons as they are performances. He is known to encourage travelers and villagers alike to share their voices, believing that “every song sung adds strength to the hills.” Despite his peaceful demeanor, Arannis is not naïve. His decades of travel exposed him to dangers and deceit, and he quietly maintains a sharp awareness of threats from the outside world. He views the Refuge as a fragile gift that must be protected, not just with walls or weapons, but with trust, song, and community.
The population rarely rises above a few dozen, with only 20 dwellings in total, many built communally. Life here is simple: homes are modest, meals are shared, and goods are traded or imported from nearby towns. Still, those who come here, whether to visit or to stay, often leave with a sense of renewal. The villagers believe the hills themselves “listen” to those who sing or play music upon them, carrying the songs into the earth and sky. This close-knit community prefers to be tucked away and secluded from Havokk at large, favoring their small community presence rather than a bustling, chaotic cityscape. |
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| Frostpeak Crossing Perched at the narrow divide between two imposing mountains, Frostpeak Crossing is a settlement defined by survival, reverence, and the steady flow of travelers passing through its wintry gates. With fewer than five hundred permanent residents, the community is small but vibrant, supported by the constant passage of traders, pilgrims, and explorers crossing between the Alatrie Highlands in the north and the Ubrenor Steppe to the south. The settlement thrives as a way-station, its market stalls and hearth-lit taverns offering warmth, food, and companionship to those braving the cold.
The town’s soul, however, lies not in commerce but in its history. Generations ago, an avalanche thundered toward the Crossing, certain to bury it beneath endless snow and stone. Yet Uutu, the benevolent deity, appeared in the form of a weathered elder. Offering their life in exchange for the lives of the villagers, the figure sacrificed themself to still the mountain’s fury using a powerful Spell. From that moment onward, Frostpeak Crossing became sacred ground to who would later be known as "the Guiding Light," who erected a shrine at the village’s center. Pilgrims from across Havokk come here to kneel, leave tokens of thanks, or seek guidance from the humanitarian clerics who often linger in the settlement to aid travelers.
The Shrine is not the official headquarters of the Guiding Light members, but is often referred to as such. The nomadic nature of its members is defined by them as "home is a feeling of love and safety you bring yourself and others," and as such, they are somewhat minimalistic in nature. Aside from the tools they require to do their duties, they often travel light. The shrine offers them a point of reference, but is otherwise there for travelers to visit.
Despite the sanctity of the shrine, Frostpeak Crossing is no somber place. Its people are hardy and welcoming, accustomed to cold winds and constant company from outsiders. Houses are constructed from heavy timber and stone, with roofs steep enough to shed snow. Fires burn almost perpetually, spilling warmth and song into the streets. The rhythm of Frostpeak Crossing is a mix of solemn pilgrimage and bustling trade, its dual identity shaping it into both a sanctuary and a crossroads. |
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| Gloomfen Shrouded in perpetual mist and shadow, Gloomfen is a market town balanced uneasily at the edge of a sprawling swamp. Once lively, its streets now seem half-drowned in mud and fog, with structures more akin to shanties and caravans than true homes. Only a few wooden walkways and rotting platforms provide footing above the stagnant waters, while tents and wagons huddle together in clusters like survivors against the gloom. What little commerce persists here is born of necessity: traveling merchants pause to trade goods at lowered prices, and caravans cut through Gloomfen when no better route presents itself.
Though outwardly destitute, the town conceals a deeper legacy. Centuries ago, it was famed for the art of the shadow dance, a Nelven rite that trained warriors to fight blind, guided only by air, sound, and instinct. The practice fell out of use among the common folk, but in secret, the Assassin’s Guild embraced it as their creed and discipline. Today, remnants of the shadow dance survive only as a ceremonial festival held twice a year, a hollow echo of the art’s origins. The townsfolk treat it as entertainment, never suspecting that in the marshy dark beneath their feet, the assassins still dance their deadly steps.
On the surface, most residents appear as wanderers or nomadic traders with carts, tinkerers, and travelers who pass through and return. In truth, many are guild agents in disguise, tasked with watching for unwanted visitors. Unknown to most, the base of operations for the Assassin's Guild lies at the end of a network of tunnels built beneath the town. The fog, said to carry toxins from the swamp, is a natural deterrent to outsiders, masking the comings and goings of those who serve the Guild. To most of Havokk, Gloomfen is a place of misery best avoided. To the initiated, it is a veil pulled over the heart of shadow.
Jala Skaithe, the Shadowed Hand, is the current guildmaster of the Assassin’s Guild. Little is certain about Jala Skaithe, save that her word is law within the Silent Sanctum. Known among guild members only as the Shadowed Hand, Jala is a figure of deliberate mystery. Even those who have stood in her presence question her true appearance, for she is rarely seen without a lacquered black mask shaped like a featureless face. To outsiders, her existence is little more than a rumor, spoken of in fearful tones as a myth used to warn children from wandering too far into the fog.
What is known is that Jala rose to power not by brute force, but by cunning mastery of the shadow dance, the ancient Nelven art long thought extinct outside of ritual performance. Her movements in battle are said to be impossible to follow, each strike falling as if from the dark itself. Many whisper she is old, perhaps unnaturally so, and that the bog has preserved her as much as it conceals her. Others claim that the mask is not a disguise but a curse, binding her identity forever in shadow. Within the guild, Jala is a strategist and philosopher as much as an assassin. She teaches that killing is not an act of violence but of balance, removing threads that weaken the greater weave of the world. Her words carry the cadence of scripture, and initiates often speak of her teachings with near-religious devotion. Beneath this discipline, however, lies ruthlessness: Jala has no tolerance for failure or disobedience. Those who defy her often vanish into the Hall of Veils, their absence explained only as a “lesson for the rest.” |
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| Gritstone Hollow Set against the outskirts of the Tanglewoods’s jungle barrier and pressed against the jagged wall of the Evershade Mountains, Gritstone Hollow is a settlement shrouded in oppression. Despite their generally good nature, like all beings, there are exceptions to the rule, and in the case of the Nelven, those exceptions are the warlords who run the Gritstone Hollow emerald mines.
Once founded by Nelven refugees after the fall of Agnememnon, the hollow began as a community sustained by the riches of its emerald veins. For a brief time, miners and families thrived in its cavernous depths, carving dwellings into the mountain face and exchanging gems for food and tools from distant travelers. That promise of prosperity, however, proved its undoing. Word of the emerald mines spread, and raiders descended on the region. Over years of bloodshed and sieges, the Nelven miners were subdued, their homes and livelihoods consumed by the will of a brutal warlord. Now, Gritstone Hollow is a place of chains and shadows, its wealth siphoned to feed the greed of its overlords.
The settlement is divided into two worlds: the jagged cliffside hovels where bandits and their leaders live in crude luxury, and the emerald mines below, where captives labor until their bodies fail. The mines are not only the backbone of the bandits’ wealth but also their fortress. Secret passages connect the mine tunnels to the slavers’ dwellings above, allowing them to strike or retreat at will. To the people trapped within, Gritstone Hollow is not a mine; it is a cage carved from stone and greed. The cries of the enslaved mingle with the ringing of pickaxes and the echo of collapsing stone, a haunting chorus that spreads through the hollow day and night. Mialee escaped these horrific mines and vowed to return one day and remove the cruel Bandits that still occupy them and that enslave her people.
Travelers rarely reach Gritstone Hollow, for the Tanglewood is an arduous barrier. Those who do are either emissaries trading in secret or unfortunate wanderers who have lured themselves too far into the jungle. The bandits may allow outsiders entry if they bring profit, but more often, they ensnare visitors in false hospitality before shackling them in the mines. |
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| Inegand Before Raxxus, Inegand was one of the central powers of Havokk. Its strength, however, made it a target. Once hailed as the pinnacle of Mortal civilization, Inegand is a city steeped in legacy, tragedy, and renewal. Founded by the earliest Mortals who migrated west from Nelven lands, Inegand grew swiftly into a symbol of human ingenuity; a city of spires, citadels, and culture. Inegand is the homeland of Havokk's former matriarch, Roselyn Valeria. The first benevolent queen of Havokk and founder of the Coalition of Unified Havokk, Roselyn Valeria, was a symbol of unity and peace on Havokk following the reign of Dark Emperor Raxxus for many years. During her own time as a ruler, she worked to restore Inegand to its former glory, as it was her home and one of the cities most ravaged by the dark emperor's reign. When the Dark Emperor Raxxus unleashed his reign of terror, Inegand was among the first to fall. Tens of thousands perished, and its shining halls were left hollow.
Now, under the steady hand of King Damien Valeria, son of Roselyn Valeria, Inegand rises once more. The city has become a beacon for Mortals and allies alike, its restoration a statement of defiance against the shadow of tyranny. Inegand’s white-stone walls gleam anew, banners of the Coalition of Unified Havokk fly proudly, and though scars of the past remain in ruined districts and charred timbers, life and hope have returned. Because Raxxus's goal was to extinguish life and not destroy the physical structures, most of the city was only damaged during the raids, but not left in complete ruin.
From its mighty castle, the city commands the rolling plains and wooded countryside of central Havokk. Its roads stretch outward like veins, binding the realm to its heart. To the righteous, Inegand is a sanctuary. To the wicked, it is a fortress of justice. King Damien has worked to restore peace and order to the region with the help of the Coalition of Unified Havokk. The city is once again one of the largest Mortal provinces and on the path to becoming a recognized nation once again. |
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| Ironhold By day, Ironhold is alive with hammering, shouting, and the clatter of chains on docks. By night, the city glows with bonfires and lanterns, the sound of sea shanties and drunken brawls rising from taverns while signal fires blaze atop the Iron Tower, guiding ships across dangerous waters. Located at the neck of an Eastern peninsula, Ironhold is a small citadel buried in the crags that stand vigil against the storms of Havokk's seas. Perched like a sentinel at the very tip of a jagged headland, Ironhold is less a city and more a fortress-turned-harbor-town, its towering construction of wood, steel, and stone jutting from the cliffs to stare unflinchingly at the endless sea. Winds whip constantly against its walls, carrying the salt of the ocean and the cries of gulls. It is a place of hard people and harder living, where sailors, soldiers, and wanderers mingle under the shadow of a fortress that has never fallen.
The mainland here ends in a sharp, spear-like cliff that juts into the sea. On either side, waves crash against the stone far below, spraying mist upward like steam from a forge. The city itself clings to the cliff face, its foundations driven deep into the rock and reinforced with iron buttresses. Wooden platforms and docks extend out over the ocean, lashed with chains and braced with steel, groaning in storm surges but never breaking. The community living in the underground portion of Ironhold manages and maintains the intricate series of steam-powered devices that route energy through the entire base. From the sea, Ironhold looks like a towering bastion carved into the cliff, its silhouette marked by battlements, signal fires, and the glint of iron plating. From land, it seems almost unapproachable, save for a single winding road that leads from the desert plains to the fortress gates at the cliff’s crown. The nearby peninsula region is rich in aquatic life, including some large creatures with violent tendencies if their territory is invaded. Ironhold also acts as a base of operations for the marine-life institute that studies these creatures.
Inhabitants of Ironhold are grizzled and often stern; the sea and the surrounding landscape have weathered them to endure harsh weather and even harsher visitors. As a "port," Ironhold is frequented by several of Havokk's less desirable: pirates, Assassins fleeing to the sea, potential invaders, and drifters carried in from the sea. The overall social climate of the area is tense, as those who can sequester themselves within Ironhold's base of operations are safe from the external influencers, but those outside of Ironhold's halls and who live along the peninsula and coast are easily provoked or defensive because of the constant disruption of the region. Despite its roughness, Ironhold has a strict but fair law: disputes are settled quickly, often by trial at sea or by the sword.
The central structure, known as the Iron Tower, rises directly from the cliff edge. Built from timber and steel plating, it has multiple tiers of battlements, watchfires, and signal horns. Within are barracks, armories, and war rooms. Its upper levels serve as command quarters for the garrison. There are numerous cliffside dwellings: Homes and taverns are built into the cliff itself, accessible by staircases and rope bridges. Windows carved into the rock glow with lantern light at night, like constellations against the dark cliff face. At sea level, massive wooden docks extend into the waves, supported by iron chains bolted into the cliffs. These host markets, taverns, and shipyards are where vessels are repaired and resupplied. At high tide, waves slam beneath the boards, shaking everything with the ocean’s fury. Atop the cliff, near the gates, lies a smaller but more orderly district of granaries, stables, blacksmiths, and supply depots. This is where caravans from inland meet seafarers. |
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| Noktaradmus Long ago, the kingdom known as Noktaradmus was the homeland of Raxxus, a former champion turned into a dark emperor. A desperate civil war of nations occurred between the Mortals. Raxxus, only son and heir to the kingdom of Noktaradmus, led the decisive battle at the capital city of Noktaradmus that won the war. Raxxus was able to strike down the leader of the opposition and ended the civil war plaguing Mortal kind for many years. Prince Raxxus soon became King Raxxus when his father, King Umar, took ill from a wound he suffered during the war. Now the sovereign leader of all Mortals, Raxxus was tasked with building a new world atop a pile of smoldering rubble and bones.
Unfortunately for Noktaradmus and Havokk, Raxxus was consumed by the darkness of the Void. An accidental discovery and use of a Void tome corrupted the once noble Raxxus, and from there, he became the Dark Emperor. After his dark reign swept across Havokk and wiped out most of the Mortal population, Raxxus was defeated by a group of Heroes in the ruins of Noktaradmus. The city was left in shambles after Raxxus began preying on his own subjects for more power, forever leaving it known as the "Blighted Throne of Mortals."
The region carries the weight of suffering, bearing the scars of Raxxus’s fall into darkness and his reign as the Dark Emperor. At the heart lies the broken city of Noktaradmus itself, its shattered walls and crumbling towers circling the remains of the royal castle. Spreading across the eastern approach to the city, this expanse of cracked earth is littered with the skeletal remains of those who perished in Raxxus’s conquests. The once-fertile countryside is cracked and barren, its soil corrupted by Void energy. Dead forests of blackened trees jut upward like skeletal claws, and the rivers that once sustained the kingdom now run sluggish and brackish, tainted with a faint metallic sheen. The skies above Noktaradmus are perpetually veiled in roiling black clouds, streaked with faint violet lightning. The sun and moon rarely pierce the shroud; even daylight feels dim, as though the land itself rejects warmth.
Noktaradmus was not merely destroyed; it was unmade. Statues lie toppled, their faces defaced by claw-like marks. Murals and inscriptions bear deep gashes, as though history itself wants to forget this place. The few standing buildings are etched with faint Void glyphs, remnants of Raxxus’s experiments. Few scholars dare to study the region, but those who have claim that the restless spirits of Raxxus’s victims manifest across the ruins. Some are harmless, reliving moments of their lives, but others lash out violently against the living.
If Inegand represents hope reborn, Noktaradmus is hope extinguished. Heroes who come here tread in the shadow of history, where triumph and tragedy are bound together. Every step carries the weight of what was lost, and the danger of succumbing to the same corruption that claimed Raxxus. Zhakul and other Chancellors of the Void now inhabit Noktaradmus beneath the surface, where Raxxus built an intricate series of tunnels and chambers under the former castle to conduct his dark experiments. Zhakul frequents Noktaradmus, believing that the corruption of Raxxus was one of his greatest triumphs, and the restless souls of Raxxus's victims and their pain that permeates the area fuel his dark ambitions. |
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| Orthron At the heart of a blazing desert plateau rises a city of gleaming stone and cool shadows, known as Orhtron, the Desert Crown. Unlike the fractured and ruin-born settlements elsewhere in the realm, this metropolis is a beacon of order, prosperity, and stability. Its people live with a rare confidence, for here, order is maintained. Orhtron is home to the grand headquarters of the Templar Order, a bastion of discipline and guardianship whose influence reaches far beyond the city walls, keeping away threats. This proud city is home to Avisary, leader of the Guardian Templar, and Rhogar Oathbreaker, the villainous fallen paladin. Rhogar has specifically made it his quest to destroy Orthron on his path of revenge.
First and foremost, Orthron is still a city, but due to its inhabitants being primarily comprised of soldiers, warriors, and templars, the city feels like one large military base. Orthron has the largest number of military personnel belonging to the Coalition of Unified Havokk in a centralized location, and is the base of operations for the Templar Order and the training grounds for the Coalition's legion. The increased presence of authority has led to a decreased crime rate, and with that, vandalism and public property destruction are almost obsolete.
In the city’s heart stands the Grand Citadel of the Templar, an enormous fortress-monastery of marble and sandstone, visible from every point in the surrounding desert. Their presence permeates the city but not in the form of tyranny: the order is seen as protectors, not rulers, and the peace they bring is accepted with gratitude. Citizens walk freely without fear of crime, and markets bustle without fear of thieves. Patrols move with ceremonial dignity, their polished armor flashing in the desert light, symbols of reassurance more than intimidation. Its domes and towers gleam in the sun, and at night, enchanted lights illuminate the surrounding city.
The city occupies the center of a vast desert plain, an expanse of golden sand and pale, cracked earth that stretches for many miles in every direction. The plateau’s edge forms sheer cliffs to the west, south, and east, dropping precipitously into the azure sea far below. From these heights, ships can be seen drifting along the coasts, though the cliffs make direct access nearly impossible save for carefully built harbors and lifts at certain points. Despite the arid desert around it, the city is ringed by a band of cultivated jungle, an oasis unlike any other in the world. This “green belt” is composed of hardy tropical flora adapted to heat: towering palms, fruiting trees, flowering vines, and fields of medicinal herbs. Fed by aqueducts that pull water from subterranean springs and distant mountain catchments, this lush ring provides the city with food, medicine, and a microclimate that keeps the air just cool enough to be bearable in the blazing summers. At night, the jungle hums with cicadas, birds, and small nocturnal mammals, a striking contrast to the desert silence beyond. |
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(Images coming soon!) | The Nation of Phyreno A nation created on the principles of embracing creativity and encouraging collaboration amongst peers, this peaceful nation has long been a shining example of what the world should aspire to be. Nestled on a lush island across from Havokk's mainland, Phyreno is a nation defined by resilience, artistry, and collaboration. A cautious haven of creativity, shaped by history’s scars yet guided by hope, Phyreno is both a sanctuary and a beacon. The legacy of Raxxus’s reign still echoes across their shores, but Phyreno is no ruin: it is a nation growing with steady resolve, guided by King Raymond and Queen Camilla. Their philosophy is simple but profound: healing through art, strength through unity, and progress through wisdom.
Crownspire City is the capital of Phyreno, built at the heart of the island near the foothills of the Crownspire Volcano. The city’s architecture is a fusion of natural growth and artful design. Homes are often built into trees and cliffs, bridges carved from stone and coral, towers that double as art galleries and academies. Murals cover nearly every wall, telling the story of Phyreno’s people and their triumph over tragedy. The Crownspire Volcano itself is a dormant volcano at the island’s heart, believed to be sacred. The Phyrenians see it as a symbol of nature's dual design: capable of both destruction and creation. Its slopes are covered in various vegetable farms, along with rare herbs prized by healers. Along the exterior of the main island lies the Coral Crescent, a sweeping bay where the ocean floor glows at night with bioluminescent coral and fish. The Phyrenians hold festivals here, releasing floating lanterns into the sea to honor the dead and celebrate the living.
Artistry is not just a pastime in Phyreno; it is the measure of worth. Academies thrive across Phyreno, focusing on spellcraft, history, art, and philosophy. However, no discipline stands apart: scholars and artisans often work together, combining magic with craft in dazzling displays. Poems, paintings, music, and craftsmanship are highly valued, and artists are revered as much as warriors or leaders elsewhere. It is common for disputes to be settled through collaborative means rather than by violence.
With that, though, comes a sense of guarded hospitality. Though open-hearted, Phyrenians are cautious. Entry to the island is restricted, and newcomers are often tested through acts of creativity, service, or honor before being fully welcomed. Following the reign of Dark Emperor Raxxus, many of the inhabited zones of Phyreno fell victim to Raxxus' dark power. Their welcoming and open nature then had little defense against his onslaught of dark power. A large portion of the island was damaged or destroyed in his wake, and this has caused its current state to be more guarded. Due to the distance between their island and the mainland, Phyreno still works to recover and rebuild, even decades later.
Phyreno stands as a counterbalance to places like Noktaradmus, where the darkness of the Void swallowed hope. Phyreno nurtures it carefully, tending the flame of creativity and unity. For adventurers, it is both a haven to rest and a crucible to be tested, for Phyreno accepts only those who prove themselves worthy of its guarded trust. |
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| Ravencrest Enclave High upon a ridge of blackened stone, overlooking the ruined forests that once thrived near Inegand, the Ravencrest Enclave rises like a monument to defiance and sacrifice. One group of scholars, artisans, and instructors founded the Ravencrest Enclave, a prestigious college for gifted individuals of Havokk, where they could study the mystical arts and various professions. The college was once a dazzling seat of knowledge and artistry, its spires carved of pale granite and silver-veined marble, shimmering beneath wards that never dimmed.
Following the wrath of Raxxus and the sacking of Inegand during the dark emperor's time, Ravencrest served as a magically fortified stronghold that even Raxxus himself was unable to breach. Protecting as many lives as they could, the score of mages and scholars repelled the dark lord so vehemently that he left entirely, moving his aspirations to other mortal provinces at the time and swearing to return and destroy Ravencrest. Today, those same spires are cracked and weather-stained, leaning at unsettling angles as if bowing under the weight of their tragic history. The protective wards still hum faintly, but their glow is pale, like a candle guttering in the wind.
Thankfully for the Ravencrest Enclave, Raxxus was defeated by the Coalition of Unified Havokk and several brave heroes, but not before Ravencrest and Inegand as a whole were affected. Many of those who bravely defended the city lost their lives to the dark emperor, and because of the dark spellcraft he used to steal essence from living beings, there are areas of Ravencrest permanently changed. The outer grounds are surrounded by a forest scarred by Void corruption. Trees are twisted, their branches barren and brittle. The ground is scarred black in patches where nothing grows. Scholars refer to these as the Scorched Veins, channels of lingering Void energy that snake through the landscape like dark rivers.
Despite the decay, the enclave remains inhabited, for within its walls lies a treasure trove of learning, Spellcraft, and living memory. Inside, Ravencrest is a labyrinth of gothic halls, lecture theaters, and libraries stacked so high they vanish into shadowed rafters. Candlelight flickers through enchanted sconces, and spectral guardians drift silently between rooms, ever-vigilant. For all its ominous presence, the Enclave is not a tomb. Professors still lecture in vaulted classrooms, and apprentices still practice Spellcraft in courtyards where the cobblestones themselves are etched with ancient wards. Yet, the air carries a weight of unspoken fear of what lies beneath, and the memory of the Void’s touch that once nearly claimed it. Not all of the ancient wisdom of Ravencrest is readily available, though, not since a once prominent mage named Xanathia discovered dark tomes preserved for historical purposes turned her to align with the Void. Since then, the Enclave has become more isolated and is far more restrictive about who and what gains access to its resources. |
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(Image Coming Soon!) | Skyfall Garrison Suspended high above Havokk’s skies, the Skyfall Garrison is both fortress and marketplace, a testament to the ingenuity and vigilance of the Squirks. Floating upon vast engines of Nexxusite-driven power, reinforced with layers of Spellcraft, it drifts steadily across the skies in slow, deliberate orbits, like a watchful sentinel. Its structure is a blend of gleaming brass, etched runes, and crystalline conduits, all meticulously maintained by the Squirk crew who keep the fortress aloft. Roughly the size of a small town, this floating fortress is home to about 500 Squirks who act as the crew and maintenance of the garrison. In addition to the crew, there are typically anywhere from 2 to 300 armed and armored Squirk warriors and mercenaries that act as Security and deployable forces directly from the Skyfall Garrison itself.
From below, the Garrison appears as a colossal silhouette that blots out the stars, its hull bristling with turrets, wards, and mooring spires designed for docking airships. Chains of enchanted lanterns sway from the undercarriage, trailing faint luminescence like constellations mirrored in the night sky. The fortress hums faintly at all times, a deep resonance that travelers describe as the very heartbeat of Nexxusite.
Within its steel-lined walls lie barracks large enough to house thousands of Squirk soldiers and mercenaries, ever prepared to deploy against emerging threats. Yet nestled between those stern fortifications are winding markets and pavilions where merchants from every corner of Havokk trade exotic goods: enchanted relics, salvaged dragonkind artifacts, rare ores, and even sky-grown produce harvested from aeroponic towers that feed the floating city. For many travelers, docking at Skyfall means a chance to acquire treasures otherwise lost to history while simultaneously seeing a glimpse of the future.
The fortress is also a symbolic reminder of the Elder Dragonkind War, when the Harbinger Armanos nearly reached the One Tree, the heart of Squirk culture itself. The Squirks swore never to let such a danger repeat, and so Skyfall serves as both a vigilant guardian and a mobile beacon of unity, proof of what invention and determination can achieve when survival is at stake. |
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| Tanglewood When the Elder Dragonkind Kritikos created the various forms of life on Havokk, many found homes within the natural elements of the sphere, the Tanglewood being no exception. The Tanglewood is less a forest and more a living entity, a vast expanse of ancient greenery that moves and breathes as though it carries the pulse of Havokk itself. At its edges, thick vines and thorned brambles writhe together to form a natural barrier known as the Brambleveil, a shifting wall that bends aside for those the forest welcomes and entangles those who come with ill intent. Beyond this living threshold, the woods deepen into a realm where nature has taken on a will of its own.
The great trees here tower high above, their branches weaving into a natural canopy so dense it feels like a roof of living wood. In some places, these branches interlace to form the Canopy Crown, a vast moss-carpeted platform where great birds and mystical beasts roost, and from which the realm can be surveyed. Below, the forest floor is laced with roots and streams that carry a quiet magic, pooling at the heart of the woods in the Wellspring of Renewal. Its crystalline waters glow with soft emerald light, a place of healing and awakening where Maya first received her druidic gifts. After locating the wellspring that bestowed her with the power to defend Havokk's natural forces, she returned to the Tanglewood and left her mortal life and world behind.
Deeper still rises the Rootspire, a jagged column of living wood and earth that stretches toward the sky like a watchful sentinel. Here, the Tanglewood’s lifeforce is said to be most concentrated, its heartbeat palpable to those who place their hand upon its roots. The dwellings created in the Tanglewood for Maya and her guests are made of natural elements and can move and shift with the region, unlike standard homes and constructed dwellings. To the few the forest accepts, it is a sanctuary of boundless life and quiet wisdom. Maya alone is the chosen keeper of this place, a druid who tends to the wildlife and communes with the very will of the forest. The Tanglewood is not just her home; it is her ally, her ward, and the source of the power she wields to defend Havokk. |
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| Temple of the Sovereign Leaf Perched atop the sun-baked cliffs of western mountains, the Temple of the Sovereign Leaf is a sanctuary of serenity and martial discipline. Unlike the icy peaks of northern ranges, these mountains are rugged desert formations, their ochre and sandstone cliffs streaked with veins of rare minerals. Winds whistle across the ridges, carrying a dry scent, and dust-swirled paths wind between jagged rock faces and sheltered alcoves where the temple’s buildings cling as if grown from the mountains themselves. The Temple acts as a bastion of unwavering neutrality in the face of opposition. Throughout time and since its foundation, Kuzuryu and the monks of the temple appear in times of conflict and turmoil, leading the helpless and innocent to safety or protecting them. Swearing no allegiance to any kingdom or nation, the Temple acts as a truly politically neutral force of good on Havokk.
The Temple was founded by Master Kuzuryu under the guidance of the Elder Dragonkind, charged with preserving Havokk from the encroaching corruption of the Void. Trusted to carry one of the legacies of the Elder Dragonkind, Kuzuryu was tasked with preserving the Dream Flake to sustain the Dragonkind. Central to the Temple’s teachings is the "Sovereign Leaf," a mystical herb created by the Elder Dragonkind that regenerates rapidly and confers heightened focus, reflexes, and spiritual attunement. Created by Kritikos and magically enhanced by Rhythmos, the ancient Dragonkind relied on this herb as a source of nutrition and focus for their abilities. Through its power, they unlock their ancestral lineage to the Elder Dragonkind and enhance their abilities and reflexes, allowing them to defend Havokk with the power of the ancients. Monks of the temple cultivate it in terraces and secret gardens, both as a sacred duty and a source of strength for their martial and magical practices.
The temple itself is composed of a series of interconnected courtyards, training halls, and meditation chambers, built of sun-bleached stone and polished wood. The architecture blends natural rock formations with simple but elegant construction, emphasizing harmony with the surrounding mountains. Water channels carry crystal-clear mountain spring water throughout the temple, irrigating the gardens and allowing meditation among flowing streams and lotus-filled ponds. Kuzuryu still inhabits the temple to train and guide others, though his main focus is working with Axel to master the secrets of the Dream Flake and their species. |
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| The One Tree When Kritikos began creating life on Havokk, she knew that the beings she created would need homes and shelter to protect themselves from the elements. Kritikos created a great tree, and from it swelled life energy and growth. The energy exuding from the One Tree helped evolve and enhance the Squirks, stimulating and growing their active minds into the talented beings they are now. Calling the One Tree their home, the Squirks have protected and maintained it ever since. Towering over any other structure built on Havokk, the One Tree is the "home tree" of close to 25,000 Squirks. The strong branches and vastness of the tree's reach make it easy for these nimble creatures to not only live in the tree but also build structures around it and on it for their dwellings.
Standing at the heart of Havokk’s central plains, the One Tree is a living titan, its colossal trunk so wide that entire cities could fit within its girth. Its crown stretches so far into the sky that it seems to mingle with the clouds, casting shade for miles around and shaping its own ecosystem beneath. The bark is ridged like stone walls, forming natural terraces and alcoves, while its branches stretch outward like highways in the sky, many large enough to support structures and bustling marketplaces. Beneath the tree, its roots form a labyrinthine foundation of vast caverns, burrows, and tunnels used by the Squirks for storage, community halls, and hidden caches of acorns. The lifeblood sap of the tree is revered and carefully harvested in small amounts as a sacred elixir, while the natural drop of acorns is used for trade, food, and craft.
The greatest treasure, of course, is the once-in-a-century Sunstone Acorn produced by the three, a crystalline gem of incalculable value. Resembling a large crystalline acorn, these objects are sought after by the rich and elite for their magical properties and rare mineral deposits. The Squirks protect it fiercely until it is auctioned by the Brokers of the One Tree, their most powerful guild. There is a legend amongst the Squirks that in their hands, a special power can be drawn from the Sunstone Acorns, though none have owned one long enough to learn how. The Squirks have traditionally always bartered the stone for the wealth and resources they redistribute for the betterment of all Squirk kind.
The Squirks treat the One Tree not simply as a home but as a living partner. Their homes are woven platforms, hollowed knots, and vine-bridges that blend seamlessly with the natural form of the tree. Rather than carving or harming the bark, they construct around it; hollowing only naturally dead wood or using sap-hardened resin as mortar. They raise acorn-shaped huts suspended from branches, spiraling rope bridges that cross dizzying heights, and carved glider platforms where young Squirks practice leaping from bough to bough. The One Tree is not just a dwelling but a city, shrine, and fortress all at once. For the Squirks, it is the heart of their people, their connection to Kritikos, and their shield against the darkness of the Void. Outsiders who visit are often awed by the seamless balance of nature and civilization. Some covet the magical acorns for their power, while others see the Squirks’ way of life as a model of symbiosis and resilience. |
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| Thresher Reef South of Havokk’s mainland, the Thresher Reef Archipelago juts from the sea like a set of jagged teeth. White-capped waves gnashing against stone ridges that resemble a predator’s jaw. The largest island is a towering shard of rock shaped like a broken molar that rises from the ocean in stark defiance of the tides. Its cliffs are sheer, its beaches scarce, and its waters churned by dangerous currents, making it nearly impossible to approach unnoticed. A massive port has been carved into the cliff base where Sharkmen warbands and raiding vessels slip in and out with uncanny stealth, their ships moored in hidden caverns. Massive harpoon-cannons guard the entrance, ready to impale anything foolish enough to approach uninvited.
The islands around the main “tooth” are smaller, spiked islets that form natural barriers. Shipwrecks litter their shallows, broken hulls impaled on coral spikes or wedged between rocks, left to rot as both warning and trophy. The reef itself is riddled with underwater tunnels and caverns, wide enough for whole warbands of Sharkmen to pass through unseen. Much of the island’s architecture is built directly into the rock as fortified cliffside dwellings, carved halls, and bone-and-metal structures that jut from the stone like broken spears. Firepits, signal braziers, and lookout posts dot the cliffs, visible for miles at night when the pirates celebrate their raids.
The Fanged Crown is a manifestation of Sharkmen's dominance. Every wall, every hall, every brazier is designed to remind those within of their place in the food chain. To outsiders, it feels oppressive and alien: the air thick with brine, the stench of blood, the echoes of waves pounding through hollowed caverns. To Sharkmen, however, it is a sacred place where their strength and ferocity are honored, and where Mako’s reign as Pirate King is displayed without question. |
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| Valorcrest Hewn directly above granite peaks, Valorcrest rests atop an overlook in the northern reaches of Havokk. Its walls are thick enough to withstand the worst storms, its towers adorned with iron braziers that burn at all hours; a reminder that the Wrathi tribe’s vigilance never falters. Though weathered by centuries of bloodshed and siege, the stronghold stands firm, each crack in its battlements seen by the Wrathi not as weakness but as proof of their survival. Valorcrest rests atop the Skyfury Heights, a mountain ridge split by a roaring river that cuts deep into the land below. This river is said to carry the blood of their ancestors back into Havokk itself. It serves as both boundary and lifeline, dividing them from the colossal, jagged expanse of Drok Scurat’s Jaws, whose black peaks loom in the distance like a maw ready to consume the horizon.
Krul-Wrathi and the first of his barbarians trace their lineage to a group of Mortals who left Agnememnon in search of life outside of Spellcraft. Travelling north, these former Nelven believed that the power of Spellcraft alone would not be enough to defend them and their people. They created their first stronghold, Valorcrest, to train and raise a group of individuals who relied on their strength and cunning to protect themselves. As Mortals eventually came as a result of the Nelven exodus, a true champion from among them arose and united them, Krul-Wrathi.
Current Havokk and the Wrathi tribe answer to Valda; she leads the Wrathi tribespeople into conflict away from Valorcrest whenever possible, so they might eventually rebuild their home. Valda has worked tirelessly to protect the Wrathi people's homeland, but it wasn't until the arrival of Teras after Rhogar Oathbreaker wiped out his village south of Valorcrest that things truly began to change. Teras' fury and tenacity to combat the Chancellors of the Void have caused many to think that he is a reincarnation of Krul-Wrathi himself, arriving in time to stop the wave of darkness spearing across Havokk. Together, Valda and Teras are gradually returning Valorcrest to a permanent home for the Wrathi tribe.
The Great Gate of Wrath is a colossal portcullis reinforced with oak and iron, carved with reliefs of Krul-Wrathi battling against the dark emperor Raxxus. Beyond it lies the Warrior’s Court, an open yard where generations of Wrathi have trained under snow, rain, and burning sun; honing their bodies as both weapon and shield. At the heart of Valorcrest is the Hall of Perseverance, a vast chamber lined with banners from past victories. The Hall of Perseverance is where the Wrathi gather to honor their fallen and swear oaths upon ancestral blades to carry on the legacy of their people and their mission to protect those who cannot protect themselves.
Despite its grim past, Valorcrest is not a place of despair but of resolve. It is a fortress that embodies the Wrathi creed: strength earned through suffering, honor carried through action. Valorcrest represents survival against overwhelming odds. The Wrathi are not mindless berserkers but guardians who choose strength as their shield rather than as a weapon of tyranny. Their fortification, their lands, and even their haunted ruins all echo the same message: that every scar is proof of endurance, and that honor is forged in the fires of perseverance. |
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(Image Coming Soon!) | The Void The Void is a roiling nothingness that hungers to unmake everything it touches. It is both eternal and alien, older than the stars and yet never belonging to them. To speak of The Void is to speak of an absence in forms that mortal minds cannot endure. To those who have glimpsed it through dream, vision, or cursed ritual, The Void appears as a horizon without end, a black sea of churning nothing. Time itself falters within The Void. What was seconds may be centuries. What was once a person may become nothing at all, or worse, something else entirely. To step into it is to risk unraveling, body and soul, into fragments of eternal silence.
The Void is not content to remain separate. Through cracks in reality, its essence leaks into Havokk, warping the land, reshaping flesh, and gnawing at minds. It is through such rifts in reality that beings such as Aribus can enter Havokk, each a living echo of the Void given form. Where they walk, the veil between life and uncreation grows thinner. Of what little is known about the Void itself, Aribus and Zhakul have recorded into a series of "Void Tomes" littered throughout Havokk. The Void Tomes, left scattered like seeds of corruption, pulse with an alien power drawing mortals into madness, servitude, or dominion. Each one is a fragment of the Void’s essence made tangible, left behind intentionally to spread its power and influence.
Void energy is not magic as mortals know it. It does not create or heal; it consumes and unravels. To wield it is to burn your own essence as fuel, each casting unmaking a little more of what you are. Mortals who attempted to master the Void and who are not strong enough are returned as husks: bodies still breathing, eyes blackened, their souls already devoured.
What makes the Void terrifying is not simply its destructive power but its inevitability. Fire can be quenched, armies defeated, even deities can be slain... but the Void cannot be bargained with, cannot be reasoned with. It does not want conquest or dominion. It simply is. And in the end, all things collapse into it. In some places, to even speak the name of The Void aloud in Havokk is taboo in many cultures. Sharkmen Scholars call it "The Black Between". Nelven priests veil their eyes when teaching of it, for fear that even gazing too long upon its sigils invites it closer. The Wrathi say that strength and honor can defy any enemy, but even they whisper that the Void is a foe no blade can slay. |
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| Willow's Bend Willow’s Bend is a haven for those who seek peace away from Havokk’s turmoil. The village is small, fewer than a hundred souls call it home, and thrives on a philosophy of simplicity, family, and harmony with the land. A winding brook curls through the settlement, its banks lined with the graceful willow trees that gave the village its name. Their sweeping branches form natural archways of shade where children play, travelers rest, and neighbors gather to share stories. A charming wooden bridge spans the village brook, couples carve initials into its railing, and children skip stones beneath it. Travelers often pause here, for the view of the willows reflecting on the water at dawn or dusk is among the most peaceful in Havokk. Willow's Bend is the home of Danika, and from this small community comes a farming community built on simple living.
The houses of Willow’s Bend are humble but lovingly maintained: timber cottages with thatched roofs, gardens overflowing with herbs, vegetables, and wildflowers. The air always carries the earthy scents of tilled soil, fresh bread, and woodsmoke. Life here moves slowly, guided by the rhythms of the seasons, and the people are proud of their deliberate choice to remain small, avoiding the entanglements of larger cities and the dangers of Havokk’s warring factions. The "Parish Green" is a grassy, willow-ringed clearing at the center of the village where festivals, marriages, and seasonal celebrations are held. Lanterns are often strung from the trees during events, giving the space an enchanting glow.
Other local favorites include "Danika’s Garden", though modest in size, which belongs to Danika’s family, and the plot has become something of a local pride: terraced rows of vegetables, herbs, and medicinal plants carefully cultivated over generations. For travelers who stop in Willow’s Bend, a cup of tea brewed from herbs grown here is considered both a welcome and a blessing. In the greater scheme of Havokk, Willow’s Bend is but a small dot on the map, but to those who live there or who find refuge within its peaceful boundaries, it is proof that a simpler, quieter life still holds strength, even amidst chaos. |
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The realm known as Havokk is vast, and upon this expansive series of land masses and islands are the locations where these chapters of the game take place. Havokk's other regions and the remainder of the planetary sphere's map will be included in future game content expansions.
Using the Cards
Included in this section are the rules and descriptions associated with card-related elements and using the game cards themselves. Characters, Events, Items, Skills, Spellcraft are covered in more detail, and the rules corresponding to them.
Expanding your Realm
Included in this section are the resources related to non-card game elements, such as the Player leveling system, Alignments & Factions, Movement, and other related items.
Lore Master Rules
Included in this section are the resources available to Lore Masters, expectations for their rule, and recommendations on running Campaign Format adventures.
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