Welcome to the world of Veldath; a world divided, both by sea, borders, and tensions past.
Many millennia ago magic was prevalent in Veldath, but was stricken from the world when the pregnant Queen of the long-gone Fervent Imperium was killed by a purported magic cure to an ailment in her pregnancy. The child carried within her became twisted by this “cure”. This beast ravaged the land with its destruction and magical capacity. Through many years, the creature was trapped, but the King was broken, his family entirely lost and his Imperium crippled. He became enraged.
The Imperator slayed the magic bearers; he burned book and scrolls, leaving the magic world in shambles. He cast artifacts and magic items into the fiery earth, where nothing would escape, the magic undone and lost.
He broke portals, severed long-held contracts, and bled the continents dry of their magic, and he ruled over a broken world, a dismal world. Small bastions of magic held out against his wrath, but they were small and defensive, constantly under fire from the Imperator. Those who hid or practiced magic did so under threat of death, not just of themselves, but of their family line. Many long-standing houses were destroyed in the wrath of the Imperator.
Upon his death, the Imperium shattered, only held together tumultuously by his iron fist. New countries rose and fell over millennia, and the world recovered slowly. Magic crept in, with incredible stretches of progress lost due to the Mad King. Small simple magic has become prevalent, but magic beyond brings about a sense of worry and fear in a world scarred.
It is the season of Pranst, the season of planting and rain, and the 18th day of the month of Loquin, named after The God of Earth. Of the three moons in the sky, Mour, the white middle mood, is full and somewhat visible in the brightly lit sky of morning, the other moons, Orani and Revent are slivers of blue and red in the sky, like eyes glaring from a distance.
The countryside is wreathed in greenery. Even the desert to the north is green from the rains and the mountains are still dressed in their veil of snow. Wildflowers are easily visible as a patchwork of color. The ocean is a deep rolling blue, accents of foam dotted the wavetops as they crested into the bay that made the port of Kors. The dozens of ships in dock carried everything from exotic fruit, fabrics, and trade goods to civilians and military weapons.
The merchant district overlooking the docks was wreathed in vines, flowerboxes dotted the well-cobbled streets, and the beautiful wood and stone buildings were a masterpiece in their own right. Some buildings were hundreds of years old, slowly growing and becoming repurposed as the merchant district grew out from its old confining walls, which now contain the banking district.
Moving north, to the west was the noble district beautiful and ostentatious, to the east is the housing for tradesman, also beautiful but notably less sizable construction. The farming district occupied the outskirts of Kors to the north and east. The city is fully decorated with plants, one can find no area to stand where greenery is not visible. In all of these districts there are spatterings of religious buildings and iconography, as Lavea is one of the most religious countries in all of Veldath.
The bustle of the city in the morning is easily tracked to the wharf. The fishermen coming in with the morning haul, and the arrival of ships from multi-week journeys.