Nestled within the ominous shroud of perpetual fog, Darktow Island emerges as a haunting sight. Perched upon its sheer southern cliff, a secluded town exudes an aura of secrecy and danger.
The town jail stands as a testament to the consequences of breaking the town's ordinances. Its sturdy stone walls and imposing wrought iron bars convey a clear message of authority and discipline.
A settlement like no other, Urzin stands as a testament to the resourcefulness and adaptability of its people.
Far from the outskirts of town, in a desolate wilderness, a sinister labor camp emerges, its boundaries defined by menacing palisade fencing and the watchful eye of mercenary guards.
Through generations upon generations, the tenacious denizens of Hupperdook have upheld an unwavering commitment to refining their individual crafts.
Spanning the reaches between the migrating city of Urzin and the Empire outpost of Fort Venture, the Brokenveil Marsh is a wretched expanse of swamps and bogs.
Deep beneath the surfaces of the seas lie the shattered remains of once great galleons, caravels, and the like. Sunken treasures and fearsome dangers lie hidden within.
Nestled against the eastern slope of the imposing Silberquel Ridge, the gnomish city of Hupperdook emerges amidst a symphony of billowing smoke and swirling steam.
Crossing the threshold of this yurt, the sound of howling winds is quelled, enveloping you in a shield of warmth. The scent of incense fills the air, its aroma weaving through the room. Vibrant hues of paint adorn the walls that shimmer softly in the flickering light.
Front gate guards, especially in smaller towns, simply need a small, fortified building to suit their needs.
Sprawling across the landscape like a patchwork quilt, Blumenthal unveils a tapestry of rural farmsteads seamlessly connected by sturdy administration buildings.