Independent City-States

Ruled by the descendants of deposed Edonian Emperor, Tybald Rex, Adonius Prima is a city-state built on a decades-long grudge. It is peopled primarily by exiles from the Edonian Crownlands who found themselves, willingly or not, on the wrong end of the Edonian Uprising of 317 DC. The city itself is a former colony and satellite state of Edonius; as such, there remains to this day a contingent of Edonian loyalists who are none too happy to be declared enemies of the state by-association, after the exiles took power in the region. 

With so much distance between Adonius Prima and the Crownlands proper, resolving their differences militarily would be tiresome at best, and idiotic at worst. No, in practise, the conflict between these two factions amounts to little more than the occasional bout of diplomatic jabs. Of course, there are methods of undermining nations which go far beyond the ugly, petty theatre of warfare...

A labyrinthine mess of small settlements constructed into the base of tall rock spires, connected by long footbridges over ocean waters with varying depths. However, unsuspecting vessels must beware of the numerous underwater sinkholes that appear at random intervals and are large enough to sink ships. Sometime during The Founding Era, an orcish tribe settled the spires, inhabiting them for what appears to be several generations, but their name has been lost to history.

The hazardous terrain and seclusion offered by the spires have, since the era of seafaring, made it an ideal location for smugglers, pirates, and other criminals to stash their loot and hide from authorities. Its current rulers, The Tyson Gang, are notorious for raiding private-chartered airships and sea vessels to take any hostages who could be held for ransom.

Once the capital of the formidable Ghyserian Empire, the city-state of Ehn'Regata now functions as a minor naval power, whose proximity to, and generous trade relations with Voran grants it far more relevance in the realm's affairs than it might otherwise have. Recent rumours of infiltration by Anclevian agents, in key parts of the city-state's inner workings, have been circulating at time of writing. Whether this is the spectre of Anclevan's imperial ambition, or simple Voranite paranoia, is unclear.

Home to the best-preserved ruins of the Fhaelian Empire in the realm, Founder's Crossing's importance to understanding the history of our world cannot be understated. Its topography is a dizzying mix of winding waterways, mountains, woodlands, and rapids– all woven together by strange roads built from hexagonal rock plates, which are infamous for breaking off and levitating away, only to reassemble elsewhere into an entirely new pathway– with the surrounding nature often shifting to match. Arcanists, engineers, wayfinders, and cartographers have studied this maddening phenomenon for centuries, but have not yet discerned a predictable pattern of behaviour.

Moreover, Machina constructs left by the precursors patrol certain areas, making travel through Founder's Crossing extremely dangerous to those unfamiliar with its ever-shifting landscape. The local populace is mostly nomadic (by necessity), though the few settlements which have survived into the modern age have been those who either cleared sections of Fhaelian ruins, or happened to settle more 'fixed areas' in terms of topography.