Orenwell

Far in the Sweetplains beyond the borders of what would become Mustanir, the world sat in the eternal, evening glow. Poplar plants grew wild, decorating the painted fields with vibrant colors. Nestled in the overgrowth and shrubbery, an outcropping of rock glistened openly. Veins of gold pumped from deep roots below. Long before the foorsteps of the common folk, the Sweetplains were roamed by herds fauna and undomesticated cattled. This attractive prey invited sweeping creatures of prey, scavengers, and roving warbands of the children of Shuna. But the scent of the gold attracted mortal men to plunder richer lives.
First tastes were taken by wandering nomads who delighted in the pleasant scents of the fields. Upon the flat expanses, little refuge could be found from many threats. Pitched tents and burrows kept planesmen from being swept away, carried into the winds by sheering talons. Fatefully, the outcropping, the Orenwell, a respite. It was not long before the discovery of lines of gold tracing through the rock. Sweat and tears turned to greed and pleasure. For a season, these nomads settled around the Orenwell. With their crude tools, they ripped through the rock. These nomads filled their pockets with the raw ore. When the season of rest was passed, the nomads moved on. Bartering lore and knowledge, crafters and miners contested each other on the expanse. But man was not the only hunter who grazed the plains.
The terrors that took the first expedition were many. In the end, not a soul survived. Remnants and camps fell ravaged by wind and tooth reached through the drunken tales. Stories revived by adventurers sent to find word on lost spouses, tradesmen, and even nobility. The second expedition, led by a pair of mining veterans from the aged mines of Emtatuk, took to burrows to shield themselves throughout the journey. These burrows would lay the foundation for the future settlements as people would move to Orenwell. Finally, the expedition arrived at the towering rock. As though it were bitten by dull teeth, the rock was scarred. Even then, gold streaks pierced the amber glow of the evening sky.
Walking through the vacant, shallow homes, the company discovered the tragedies of the people. Fighting amongst themselves for every nugget, every satchel of golden dust, the nomads fell to disarray. Empty graves plundered nightly by watching beasts struck fear into their minds until finally, they were driven out. But gold beckons all who listen to its inviting call.

Type

Hamlet