Mimin-Akamora
The Desimated lands
Battlemaps set in this location
Titan Stromatolite
These mountainous, layered, rock-like structures fill Mimin-Akamoras northern coastline. Formed by the slow accumulation of sediment and minerals trapped by colonies of tiny, invisible sea life. These living fossils may be the oldest evidence of life on Crudilex. Though they may appear as simple mounds or columns of stone, they are the product of countless generations of invisible life. The towering formations of ridged stone rise from the choppy sea, their surfaces rippled like the growth rings of a tree but older than any forest in Crudilex. Their outer layers glisten with a thin sheen of brine, pulsing with hidden life. In the shallows, their bases stretch into labyrinthine tunnels, where the air is thick with the scent of salt and algae.
Patterwally: The Waking Carnival
Outside the ephemeral borders of Nocturne, Mimsy settlements are few and far between. If Patterwally is not the only one, it is certainly the largest and most well-known. It could easily be mistaken for a carnival with colorful towers and vibrant, whimsical buildings. The streets are populated by poppets, plush animals or ragdoll forms of Mimsy who have ventured beyond the realm of dreams.
Festivals, streets adorned with hanging rope lights that flicker like stars, Theaters, restaurants, dance halls, and music fill the air with celebration. Patterwally is in the middle of an artistic renaissance, with performers from all corners of Crudilex making the trek to the Mimsy city, seeking their future, and many may very well find it here. The city has become a unifying force for the fragmented factions that have endured in the wastelands. With the end of Mimin’s scarcity and the slow return of stability many see Patterwally as the embodiment of the shift in Mimin-Akamora toward a more hopeful future.
Divwim of the Water Eicio
Home to the water eicio, this port city is built among towering, craggy cliffs and choppy waters, the kind of place most sailors would dread. Yet, to any outsider’s surprise, its harbors and docks are filled with ships, bursting with life. Unlike most cities, Divwim has few permanent structures. The majority of its people, the water eicio and the seafaring orcs of the Galu nation, live aboard their personal boats and ships, forming a constantly shifting network of floating homes and businesses. Every necessity of city life is found among the houseboats moored in the harbor.
The one true landmark of Divwim, its most famous permanent fixture, looms high above the city on the rocky cliffs: The Tipsy Tavern. A warm hearth for sailors, smugglers, and wanderers, this rickety old tavern is the only place where you can find a drink that won’t slosh with the rocking waves below. Though after a night of revelry, the climb back down to the docks can be an adventure itself.
Tipsy Tavern
Perched high above the Divwim peninsula along the jagged bluffs, The Tipsy is a legendary sailor’s tavern and inn. Catering to travelers navigating the western fjords, it serves as a crossroads where cultures from up and down the coasts of the Triton sea converge. But with so many differing customs under one roof, tensions regularly flare. What one sailor considers an act of goodwill might be an insult to another. Insults, grudges and drunken misunderstandings spiral into rowdy Brawls. It is called the Tipsy Tavern for the 700-foot drop that looms just beyond its doors, a sheer plunge into the churning waters below. Many a reckless patron has met their end stumbling out after a long night, bad luck, or the occasional helping hand.
River of Omens
This fast moving river cuts directly through the remains of an overgrown ruin. Slowly consuming the place where once the mighty winged serpent Liki’Akamora ruled over all living things in the world of Crudilex. Few artifacts of that time were spared the erosion of the river but the jade statues of the serpent’s army. Swords and helmets of green-blue soldiers rise the water and form rapids in the surf as though they are trying to protect the city even as the list bits of it wither away.
The people of nearby Patterwally believe it to be the best place to witness the rare and elusive omenstags, for which the river takes its name. Glowing, antlered stags that seem to defy the very laws of physics, the omenstags bound effortlessly through the air, covering impossible distances with grace. They move like specters, appearing only in fleeting glimpses before vanishing once more into the mists over the river.
Mahusha
At the western edge of Wish’s End is a vast stone bridge, mossy and overgrown, tended by the Mahusha, an order of Miminians sworn to protect the amethyst cathedral of Insitu and to ensure that no outsiders come seeking the dead winged serpent, Liki-Akamora. Their oath binds them to keep the fallen serpent king dead for eternity, for fear that his influence might return to the world.
Despite this duty, the Mahusha are largely a peaceful cult, more widely recognized as the keepers of the only crossing west of the goblin moors. However, tensions have begun to rise between the Mahusha and Patterwally. Whispers spread that the tyrannical winged serpent has begun to appear in people’s dreams, and the Mahusha are convinced that the Mimsy, as personifications of dreams themselves, are somehow to blame. There are growing rumors that the Mahusha have sent spies into Patterwally, hoping to uncover the truth behind these disturbing visions.
Wishes End
A great chasm splits Minin-Akamora. It was here that the serpent king, Liki-Akamora, slew the Archfey Wishdrake Kalt, leader of the Wishdrakes, Kalt had sought to fulfill a wish rightfully earned by a mortal. They had asked that the winged serpent tyrant be unmade. But Liki-Akamora was no ordinary being. Too powerful to be slain in an instant, the winged serpent's very existence defied destruction.
In a furious hunt that raged through the heavens and across the lands,Liki’Akamora pursued Kalt, as the wishdrake rewrote existence around them, tearing
through realms. At last, the final blow fell before the wish could be completely granted, and with it, something irrevocable shattered. The Book of Fate, which binds all that was, is, and will be, suffered a tear that the world itself recoiled from. The land cracked, and when the dust settled, nothing remained but the rift of amethyst, a gaping void splitting the realm in two.
Kalt, dead in Akamora’s screaming fangs. This moment marked the true beginning of Liki-Akamora’s unchecked reign of destruction. No longer satisfied with ruling, he sought to punish those who tried to wish him undone, sparing no one from his wrath. In a first act of vengeance he declared the Wishdrakes an affront to his dominion, and hunted them to extinction. To this day, all that remains of the wishdrakes is the wound their leader left behind: Wish's End.
Blacksand dunes
The Blacksand Dunes stretch across the east toward the coast, a vast expanse of lifeless dust and sand. When the ancient Goblins fled the wrath of Liki-Akamora they burrowed below. As the the winged serpent pursued them he destroyed the soil, deeper and deeper. formed from the fine black dust of the bedrock that remained. Today, beneath the dunes goblin hives have carved out sprawling underground colonies with a fear of the sky they don't completely understand. Their territory reaches all along the dunes, which earns the region the nickname “the goblin moors”. Their tunnels provide them shelter, and the empty sands above ensures that few outsiders wander near. Many goblins here have turned to raiding, preying on those who stray too far from safety. Their camouflaged pits and ambush traps make the Blacksand Dunes a dangerous place for outsiders to travel.
Trapjaw Keys
The northern coastline of Mimin-Akamora is known as the Trapjaw Keys, an archipelago treated as exile for the lost forgon of Dorroan Zog Dagon: those who have succumbed to their hunger and turned to hunting goblins to satisfy their insatiable starvation. The hunger of the forgon is a relentless need that no amount of food can ever satisfy. The more they consume, the larger and more monstrous they become. Eventually, they can no longer stand upright, and their sheer immensity forces them to crawl on their stomachs. In time, they become too slow to hunt, their bodies too vast to sustain, and they starve to death. To the citizens of Dorroan Zog Dagon, the Trapjaw Keys are a graveyard. The final destination for those who fail to resist the hunger, and a place where their kind can exist without endangering the rest of their people. Though tragic, this tradition has ensured the survival of their culture. As long as Dorroan Zog Dagon exists, the Trapjaw Keys must also.
Kagkalla Hive
The Kagkalla Hive is the largest goblin metropolis in Mimin-Akamora, a vast underground sprawl of tunnels and caverns stretching out in the Sunless Sea below the surface of Crudilex. The tunnels of Kagkalla extend far deeper than those of other goblin colonies. Even as more and more goblins spawn, there always seems to be room. Kagkalla is so large that its different tunnels are said to be ruled by different kings, each claiming to control the entire hive, but none truly reigning over the whole. Goblins' mischievous nature leaves little loyalty to be had either way. One of the most unique quirks of Kagkalla’s goblins is a deeply ingrained superstition: an overwhelming fear of precious stones, especially those of purple hue. A simple amethyst is enough to send even a seasoned warrior into a blind panic, fleeing in terror. The vast purple crystal that makes up the canyon of Wish’s End keeps the majority of their kin hidden in the goblin moors.
Kaltogramak
Below the amethyst covered remains of Kalt is the home of the Bonespeakers of Kaltogramak. Goblin shamans who use Pneuma, a secret language allowing them to commune with the corpses. They are a respected tradition across Mimin-Akamora and highly sought for their trade. Because of this they never need to raid or plunder which sets them apart from their more wild rival hives in the goblin moors. Their talents allow outlanders to speak with lost loved ones. In exchange for their services, the Bonespeakers are offered weapons, food, and sanctuary in cities where miminian goblins could otherwise be unwelcome.
Lummarrow
The farthest outpost of the Galu Nation Orcs. Lummarrow is built atop sea stacks along the coast of Trapjaw Keys. The Galu orcs believe that only by sailing the most dangerous waters can they achieve true harmony with the tides and prove their resilience to their sea god, Galu. In the relentless waves of Mimin-Akamora’s cliff-lined coast, the Galu found kindred spirits in the water eicio, an aquatic people equally at home in the sea. What began as an alliance of survival has, over the last century, transformed into something far deeper. Through shared struggle the two cultures have merged, their traditions blurring together into something neither fully Galu nor wholly Eicio.
Insitu
Insitu was once the personal palace of Liki’Akamora, the greatest of all tyrants, the cruelest of all kings. From the cathedral, the winged serpent ruled over the western lands of Crudilex during the Age of Beasts. But now, Insitu is a cursed place seething with the remnants of Akamora’s power. Even thousands of years after his fall, the magical pressure saturating the ruins is so immense that any who dare to approach are assailed by waves of raw arcane energy and suffer a terrible end. First, horrific mutations twist their forms, then mana bursts forth from their bodies, ripping them to shreds, followed swiftly by death. They are reanimated soon after, rising as the indolent. Creatures less than undead and barely capable of more than grasping out at what passes them by.
When the Wish’s End disaster struck, Insitu was the first place to be ravaged by the Wishdrake’s rewriting of reality. The land fractured, caught in the grip of an unfolding tesseract of amethyst, a crystal tide that surged across all of Mimin-Akamora. The wave of arcane crystal swallowed Insitu whole, but its erasure was never fully completed, leaving the cathedral frozen in jagged amethyst. Now, it is called The Cathedral of Amethyst, an evil and forbidden place. The only grave the Serpent King will ever have.
Utidil
Scattered throughout the goblin moors of Mimin-Akamora, hive-caves burrow deep under the land. Most of the Kagkalla goblins share similar customs and practices, but the Utidil Hive stands apart. Unlike their raiding kin, the Utidil are filth mongers, renowned for their mastery of breeding and raising giant insects. Their home is a colossal petrified tree, its hollowed-out core forming wide open tunnels shared with a monstrous Termitidae colony. While the Utidil goblins often claim they tend to their insects, the truth is far more nuanced. They live in a kind of symbiosis.
The goblins carve out their chitin dwellings among the roots, while the Termitidae expand the hive with their burrowing, providing both shelter and food. In times of war or famine, the Utidil goblins burrow with their Termitidae in battle. To outsiders, this harmony between goblin and giant insect is unnerving, some whisper that the Utidil shamans have brokered a dark pact with some kind of abyssal evil to tame the Termitidae.
Petrified Forest
Among the countless atrocities Liki-Akamora, the Winged Serpent King, inflicted upon Mimin-Akamora, none were as sacrilegious as the desolation of the sacred wilds. Once, a lush jungle flourished here, like the great forest of the east. Safeguarded by its own Fey and ninoten, the mysterious omen stags. When the tyrant unleashed his wrath, the land itself disintegrated beneath, the soil reduced to nothingness, the trees entombed in smothering ash.
For generations, the remains of this woodland were lifeless. The burning ash eventually drifted into the Blacksand Dunes, leaving behind only colossal stone fossils, trees of a lost world. The land remained a wasteland. But time is patient: As the centuries passed the soil began to heal. An oceanic swampland formed, creeping inland, nourished by slow rains and underground springs. Slowly the jungle has regrown and with it the omen stags returned. Once thought lost, they now walk like phantoms among the petrified trees, their antlers glowing in the darkness. Silent, watching over the grave of their Wilder.
Dorroan Zog Dagon
The great holy city of the forgon, Dorroan Zog Dagon, was built in devotion to the highest gods of their culture: the Endless Hunger, Dagon. Among the forgon, their physical size is directly tied to their societal standing, the larger one grows, the more revered they become. None have ever reached a more cataclysmic size than Dagon, the living god-king of their kind.Dagon rests just off shore where the forgon feed Dagon relentlessly. In a culturally sacred experiment to test the limits of their kind.
The city is an amphibious settlement, sprawling around the semi-submerged Dagon. Its stilted huts are canopied in thick leather canvas, and massive tented structures are built to be adjustable and accommodate the shifting heights of forgon. Dorroan Zog suffers from a horrific food shortage. The forgon culture is defined by their insatiable hunger. Food is everything, the sole currency, the
backbone of all trade, the city's entire economy. Bartering is done exclusively in rations, and so, a ruthless industry has formed around the import of huge quantities of food. To feed the city’s never ending need, forgon often do mercenary work, offering their towering warriors and laborers. Armies of starving behemoths, driven by a gnawing hunger, march under contract to foreign lands in exchange for shipments of food to sustain their homeland.
Dagon's Rest
Just off the coast of Dorroan Zog Dagon, in the shallow bay, lies Dagon’s Rest, the lair of Crudilex’s largest known creature. The massive, island-sized being covered in green scales, lazily drifts in the surf, fed endlessly by its devotees.
Historians say that Dagon was once no different from the forgon who now revere it. However, while others succumbed to their monstrosity, Dagon never stopped growing, never stopped consuming. It outgrew its kind, outgrew the land itself, and eventually disappeared into the deep ocean, where it became more than a beast. Now, too vast to move with ease, Dagon lurks beneath the waves, waiting for prey to come to it. It feasts on entire fleets of ships, swallowing them whole, and strips islands bare, devouring their woodlands, wildlife, and even the very soil itself. What its forgon worshipers cannot scavenge, they sacrifice, casting offerings from the ocean cliffs into its waiting jaws below with the hope of appeasing their god until it has grown so vast that it swallows the world.