An Overview of the Lands of Autumn.
The Lands of Autumn are to encompass one area no larger then a hexmap. This is essential(not really). As to what size of hex is most appropriate in describing my humble campaign setting, I leave this for other, greater men to decide (16 miles for starters). I made a map of it in Paint that looks like a 5 year old made it. This map will of course be expanded as I add to it.
In the centre of the Lands of Autumn (hexmap) stands the aforementioned Tempest, a great storm of sorcerous energy that is both tomb and prison to the gods of old. It is surrounded by a wasteland of sorcerously shaped rock and polychromatic sand, dotted with the corpses of the lesser members of the old pantheon, killed instantly when it was born(more on the Tempest later). The wastes are populated by mutants, various magical monstrosities and the vicious H’San nomads that attempt to ensure that none enter the wastes surrounding the Tempest, and nothing leaves it.
To the south-west lies one of the few rather fertile stretches of land within the Lands of Autumn. These are the Principalities of Gal’Alor, a loose confederation of city-states ruled by merchant princes. They are characterised by their masked citizenry, constant infighting, empire of trade, thriving slave-trade and unending feud with the neighbouring empire of Karaash.
Beyond the lush plains of Gal’Alor lies a long stretch of wasteland, salt-drenched and littered with the bones of oceanic monstrosities of ages past. After miles of sparsely populated swamp, silt and salt, one eventually reaches the Hungry Sea.
To the south, over the Crystal Mountains, lies Karaash the Proud. Karaash is among the oldest powers in the lands of Autumn, decadent and corrupt, subject to the whims of an inbred aristocracy and the edicts of a fanatical priesthood. Nevertheless, it has survived countless calamities that have buried lesser nations by virtue of its warrior-caste, formidable warbeasts, ancient knowledge and sheer obstinacy.
To the south-east lie the lush and flesh-eating jungles of Gyrr. A network of rivers permeates the jungle, the rapid currents, waterfalls, indigenous predators and savage Jaat tribesmen making it a hazardous place to visit. Gyrr hides many secrets, and deep within its jungles, old powers bide their time to rise once more.
To the far east stretch the endless Lotus Fields. Inimical to all other life, they encroach upon the Lands of Autumn with glacial slowness and inexorability. The pollen of the Caretaker Lotus is a potent narcotic that fetches a high price in the markets of Gal’Alor, but the fields are littered with the bones of the incautious. Within the Lotus fields, the husks of cities long gone await rediscovery.
The north-east is a wasteland dotted with the corpses of old civilisations: Myadar, Piazet, the Iron Road of Sybara. The Free City of Muir has outlived all, predating the Calamity. It receives thousands of petitioners from all over the Lands of Autumn and beyond. Its magical wellsprings are said to heal wounds, cure disease and bestow longevity upon all who bathe in their waters. Men tell many wonderful tales of Muir, and all of them are lies.
To the north, the Glass Mountains provide a natural barrier, and few know what lies beyond them. The inhuman inhabitants of the Glass Mountains brook no intrusion into their unearthly realms. The alien structures that crown the highest peaks fill the nightmares of the northerners, and children are cautioned to behave lest they be spirited off to a fate best left uncontemplated.
To the north west, beyond the Glass Wastes, lie the Bleached Lands, where it is said all things are as grey as the clouds and a man will murder over a bead of coloured glass or a strip of dyed fabric. Of the people of the Bleached Lands, men know little more then hearsay.
The Glass wastes encompass most of the west, and with them the ruins of Tzyan, the empire of half-human sorcerers that challenged the Gods and murdered their civilisation to build the Weapon that killed them. Its ruins are inhabited by the immortal sorcerers and abominations born of the Calamity. The Mazhurian dervishes scratch out a desperate existence here, raiding fertile Gal’Alor for food, metal and cloth. Great fractal designs cover the vitrified sands, leading outward from the Weapon. Those that have glimpsed the Weapon from afar know that Tzyan has replaced the Tyranny of the Divine with something far less comprehensible but infinitely worse.
This is but a fraction of the landmarks, civilisations, ruins and geographical areas of the Lands of Autumn.