A DIVERSE WORLD
The world of Vinramar is divided into World Regions, with each operating as a self-contained setting. Of course a single adventure could take you to several locations across the world, but if you prefer to build a home base and adventure on a smaller scale, each region offers distinct peoples, history, and adventure themes.
ARROCHULE
“There is a vengeance in the earth. Until 1,500 years ago this land was called Ardon, the seat of hope, a home for the hated sons of Jharus, built on the first cradle of their civilization. Then its emperor was murdered, and the twelve cities of the jharethil were taken up into the heavens. Now the land itself mourns, ruined and overgrown with a jungle that slowly swallows the remaining provinces. These inhabitants have given it a new name: Arrochule, which by interpretation is Temple of Arrochimeir, the son of Daemoth. Only time will tell if the region will permit another nation to possess it for long.”
Campaigns set in Arrochule can make use of the region’s rich history. As one of the cradles of civilization, it has seen countless cultures, wars, and tragedies. The memory of such events lies heavy on the land, and gives it great character.
Arrochule’s cities are built on the ruins of previous settlements. Each one can tell a unique story as adventurers descend into hidden passageways, catacombs, and temples that have far outlived the empires that built them. Such places might contain pieces of an ancient artifact, forgotten chants, sacred sites of power, or clues to the identity of jharethil hiding in plain sight among the people.
This region is the birthplace of the jharethil, children of remote celestials whose hidden cities fled the misery of the mortal world only to be forced to watch it rot from above. Arrochule is likewise home to the Eitharmos, an order of demonic crusaders whose salvation depends on rooting out the surviving jharethil.
Arrochule is a good launching point for Darkplane campaigns because it lies at the center of this great conflict in the setting, but also because it is a cultural and geographical center. Hundreds of merchant vessels come in and out of the region’s ports each day, bound for lands as far as Trentsmund or Arwest. If you wish to introduce your players to many different cultures, putting them on a ship out of Arrochule is a great first step.
ARWEST
“Four fathers have been dead since our land was returned to us from the vampires. We claimed Arwest when it was young. Like the wolf we walked its breadth and built our dens, warning strange peoples that only we would possess it while one werekin lived. Then blood-hunters came from the East to challenge us, and with the cunning of the spider we trapped them until our webs became full and many of our folk were lost. Like the persistent rat we survived to make war once more, but Arwest is sapped of its strength. Under the reign of the Longstriders we may see it rise or fall for the final time.
”
Blood is shed daily in Arwest. The powder keg of fear has been lit by rumors of Vampire resurgence to the east, and many factions now scramble to compete for limited resources. Urban locales like Farlithia and Faerras stand out against the desolate wilderness that surrounds them. Access to both makes adventuring in Arwest a lesson in opposites.
Faerras is a city particularly well suited as a starting point for any game. Being a human settlement within short distance of empty wilderness, werekin territory, and the vampire homeland, it can serve as a base for diverse adventures. It’s also a place where refugees and immigrants have gathered from most parts of the world, allowing you to get a taste of many cultures without going far.
Werekin characters are sometimes defined by their relationship to others of their kindred. How they interact with the pack says a lot about who they are as individuals. Since Arwest is the only region where werekin live in large numbers, it offers the chance to explore how these characters relate to the larger community to which they may or may not belong.
CHAYRSHELLECH
“In the hands of the heathfolk, Chayrshellech has become the world’s epicenter of culture and learning. Less than 3,000 years ago it was an assembly of inhospitable deserts, mountains, and canyons. Now it is an area of great trade and travel where the wise seek out the wise. What was wild is now wealthy, and what was feared is now famed. The transformation did not come by effacing the land, but by embracing it. Its seclusion imbues reflection, and its relentlessness breeds tenacity.”
Within the cliffside cities of Chayrshellech, the heathfolk keep a high standard of living. Tough as nails, but with the souls of poets, education is of utmost importance in their culture. Universities wield political authority here, forming governments comprised of professorial administrators that counsel and provide for the people.
Magic is the subject of significant dispute among the heathfolk nations. Hundreds of years ago, the Yaelcar led a cultural revolution, rejecting the tradition of folk magic that is as old as heathfolk history itself. Separated by the past and barreling toward different futures, the Yaelcar and their Northern Kin each carry their banner, insisting to the world that their own dogma is the better destiny for the region of Chayrshellech.
GOLTARAIM
Goltaraim lies on a critical juncture between East and West. Thousands of vessels cross the Strait of Imokh and the Sea of Jassaid every day. Vibrant markets filled with the exports of a hundred nations serves to draw even more traffic to it ports. This multicultural crossroads has cultivated an environment of cultural collectivism, justice, and mutuality—by and large, human and telmatra no longer consider themselves separate peoples.
It is among the warring merchant princes that murder and malice turn profit. The nations built beneath the yoke of privileged bloodlines are nearing revolution. The Goltari League, which keeps the ruling families of the region at peace, is in silent war with the people whose interests it claims to protect.
The shining sands of Goltaraim hide terrible wonders. While merchants scramble like mice to hoard their banal coin, strange and forgotten secrets of primordial power lie buried beneath their feet. A chance discovery or encounter can transform a character’s life in sublime and horrific ways.
ILJUDHEIM
The lands of Iljudheim were first settled by Feiren and Culfirith, the first of the Fey Children. From early on, their people were hounded by demonic creatures that wandered aimless in the North during Daemoth’s exile. The harrowing of the Fey culminated in the death of their goddess Forlortha, who fled to the world Iltallach as a mad spirit. Claiming Iltallach for her Fey Children, Forlortha opened a dimensional rift allowing passage between that world and present-day Oruna.
During the Great Winter centuries later, ice caps from the south spread across many Fey lands, rendering them inhospitable. The archfey Telwyn swayed thousands of his people to flee through the Fey Gate en masse. In their zeal to renounce their ancestral lands, the apostates sealed the portals, leaving many hundreds of their people stranded in Iljudheim and Arwest. These unfortunate stragglers became the elves: a wild, callous folk that prowl the hidden lands of Iljudheim.
Humans first appeared in Iljudheim about 5,000 years ago, trailing south from Motta. From the beginning, the elves frightened the humans, who populated their legendry with fearful warnings about dealing with such beings, not all of which were unwarranted.
Minor skirmishes across the region escalated tensions until there was widespread war in Iljudheim. Over the millennia, the elves have receded deeper and deeper into the wild. Campaigns set in Iljudheim draw on this overarching conflict between the mortal domain and the perilous, inexplicable realm of the elves.
Arochos, by Chris Cold
MOTTA
“Thou art the branch of this tree. If a branch be severed, it cannot blossom, but will wither and be broken underfoot. Does the branch say to the root what need have I for thee? What fruit shalt thou bear without root or trunk to feed thee?
This Holy Empire stands firm upon the ancient ground
where once our Lord Lachmarum built his throne. Ye have slain his servants and wounded his armies, but more than this ye have built up kingdoms to rival God’s and spurned Him. Retribution shall be His, and when it comes your flesh will run from off your bones like water and the branches that scorned the tree will be gathered and burned.
And on that day shall God smile.”
Motta has always been a land of religious fervor ruled by the merciless. The Homam Telberzah, holy writ of the Etholchan Church, names the city of Motta itself as the ancient site of Maromutalcoth, where for millennia the god Daemoth held court with his monstrosities.
Since that forgotten age, the region has become a holy land for crusaders and pilgrims of every Daemothite sect, ruled by a diverse and enduring empire.
Whether farming in Iarmuto’s river valley, scribing in the imperial courts, or eking a living among the shoals of Ocalatnoloset, the Mottan way of life is a forced dependence on community. Without significant wilderness anywhere in the region, Mottans are connected in a way that’s rare in Vinramar. At times this creates a sense of cooperation and belonging, but more often it means sectarian competition and ostentatious hauteur.
Motta is a vibrant and diverse backdrop. It lends itself well to campaigns that revolve around intrigue, infiltration, and urban adventure. Powerful religious factions are at constant odds with the empire, its dissident neighbors, and each other. If your players want to wage holy war, civil war, or just skulk around in the shadows cast by these conflicts, Motta is the place.
THE NORLYTHE
While dark and unpredictable, the forest of Olmeníhue is home to various Quitzál and gugrum cultures. These city-based clans each contain a hierarchy of tribute, with conquered cities paying their subjugators in goods and labor. Despite having nominal power over their network of tributary cities and villages, clan chieftains rarely exert authority over affairs outside their own city walls.
The wonder and peril of the frontier is the heart of any story set in the Nolythe. Adventures here reveal the horror of both the wild and civilization. The settlers encroaching on the forest and the tribes that swear to defend it are equal victims of primordial cruelty. Those who draw close to the earth may come to embody its callous brutality, while those who place their confidence in the work of their own hands grow as cold as the tools they wield. Adventurers often learn to fear all paths.
The Norlythe is a good setting in which to explore themes common in the American Gothic subgenre: sacrificing one’s humanity to gain knowledge, the human desire to separate oneself from what one considers grotesque or foreign, and the horror of discovering that you’ve become that which you loathe.
SYRIKHAL
“Do you also feel it: the falsehood, the counterfeit of
physical creation? Do you know in your heart’s center that these inanimate walls are not truly there? All my life my mind has lain imprisoned within this flesh, wounding others in my confinement, wounding myself in restless chafing. Materiality is a box, a coffin in which our souls are buried alive from the first breath. To escape you must first journey inward, align the body, make it the instrument of the soul. Then you will see the fissures in the dream, the patches where illusion cannot sustain itself, and nightmare is reality.”
Though Syrikhal was among the first regions settled by humans, its inland reaches are still buried in jungle, where the straggling remains of pre-human abhorrence linger undiscovered. The dragonborn clans that populate the tropical forests descend from the Empire of Daragoch, which crossed the Black Ocean and claimed present-day Syrikhal before humans even set foot here.
Aberrant threats lurk hungrily in the shadows of the jungle, held back by the Humenhi Wayfarers—dedicated monks who have sworn to keep planar threats at bay. It’s never been clear which came to Syrikhal first, the monks or the Darkplane aberrations, but their desperate dance over the fate of the mortal world has lasted centuries. In this region the need for a disciplined mind and a strong hand is real.
The ascetic religion of the Humenhi Wayfarers is a binding cultural force among the humans who live in Syrikhal. They symbolize discipline, enlightenment, restraint, and mutual trust. Whether these precepts can withstand the abominable presence of the Darkplane is yet to be seen.
TRENTSMUND
From humble beginnings, this region rose to become seat of the world-choking empire that is its namesake. Trenstmund’s is a history of unlikely greatness—and a warning of the perditious corruption such greatness can bring. To the Trentsmunders, machinery is a symbol of life. Automation and steam power are now the fuel that runs the engine of its economy.
The true heroes of Trentsmund are seldom recognized because they Fight invisible threats that would chill the blood of prosaic folk. Some investigate hauntings and paranormal threats, others walk in the circles of the demimonde—the underground community of criminals, hedonists, and libertines. Common to such company is an interest in the dark arts, a pursuit too preposterous (or perhaps too dangerous) for prudent minds.
Your investigations in Trentsmund might lead through the narrow cobblestone streets of a factory district, along the dotted path of streetlamps that strain to penetrate the coal-fire smoke, or into the parlor of a psychic cult. Behind any door may wait horrors in human clothing.
WELLUSK
Its proud cities now in ashes, Wellusk is an expansive ruin inhabited mainly by the bloodthirsty quasi-vampires that have succumbed to the vorruc blight. These packs of ravenous hunters band together, often mimicking the uninfected in pursuit of living flesh and blood to consume. Humans who have survived the desolation find they must stay out of sight, scavenge what sanitary food they can, and cling to the faint hope that they will one day escape or rebuild.
Some say the effort to cleanse the region has already begun, as the widowed and orphaned take shelter in ruined sanctuaries, forming new bonds in new communities. Old grudges have been done away. Now there are only the living, the dead, and those in between. To the homeless and forsworn, more than ever before, the true enemy is clear: the vampire legions of Perrith Gorr.
But that enemy hasn’t shown its face in five years. Since the vampire host withdrew beneath its cerement, speculation runs wild among the surivors in Wellusk. Whatever the reason, it’s clear that the god-emperor of Perrith Gorr never intended to rule the ruin his legions left behind. He was content to unmake it, and leave the rest of Vinramar to ponder what terrible wonders will follow.
Parties adventuring (or surviving) in Wellusk tend to have one of two goals: adapt or escape. Those who refuse to abandon their home find nesting to be a difficult proposition, but if they can obtain allies, supplies, and a defensible shelter, they have a chance. Many can last for some time in such circumstances. Escape, on the other hand, sounds far easier than it is. With ships shunning the region and nearby settlements all flooded with refugees, survivors need every ounce of cunning and determination to put this devastation in their past.