Myraden
About Myraden
A vast, original high fantasy world built from the ground up. Ancient kingdoms, layered magical systems, old gods, and a continent still bearing the marks of wars fought thousands of years before the stories begin. More lore coming as characters are added.
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Regions of Myraden
The Imperial Heartlands
The seat of Myraden’s ruling dynasty, and the most contested ground on the continent. Ancient palace complexes, bureaucratic cities, and roads built over the ruins of older empires. This is where the laws are written and where the wars are decided, even if they’re not always fought here. Power in the Heartlands is rarely held openly - it moves through appointments, marriages, and the right word at the right moment.
The Jade Reaches
Verdant river valleys and forested highlands running along the eastern edge of the continent. The Jade Reaches are known for their scholars, their spirit-cultivation traditions, and an independent streak that the Imperial Heartlands has never quite managed to smooth over. Old magic runs deeper here than elsewhere. The academies of the Reaches have been producing the Heartlands’ most brilliant and inconvenient advisors for centuries.
The Thornwood Marches
The northern territories, where the treeline thickens and the winters run long. Contested ground between the empire and the independent warlords who’ve held the deeper forest for generations. The Marches are technically pacified. Nobody who has spent time there believes this. The old gods the empire officially discourages are still given offerings in the Marches - quietly, and with results.
The Sunward Coasts
The long southern coastline and its network of merchant ports. The wealthiest cities in Myraden are here, and so is most of the crime. The Coasts have never been fully governed by anyone - they operate on guild law, trade agreements, and the mutual understanding that violence is bad for commerce. It’s an arrangement that works remarkably well, except when it doesn’t.
The Ashen Wastes
A vast scarred expanse in the east - the remnant of a magical catastrophe so old it has no agreed-upon name in any surviving record. The Wastes are not dead: strange flora grows there, adapted to something toxic in the soil. Expeditions go in. Some come back. What they bring with them is always interesting and occasionally dangerous. The empire maintains a single fortified outpost at the Wastes’ western border, staffed by volunteers with very specific kinds of courage.
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