Diateire

There is Andellion. The Realm of sky-reaching mountains, dizzying depths and midday darkness. The Realm of kings and queens, of honour, betrayal, and legends.   There is Zahyr. The Realm of scorching heat and scouring wind, the unyielding copper and gold Realm of dust and rock. The Realm of whispering sands and singing dunes. A terrible and majestic realm of mysteries and mirages, many have lost themselves following the desert’s voices.   There is Ejian. The Realm of blinding white and biting cold, the Realm of plains of ice and endless snow. From the ice rise vertical cities of steel and adstrumite, interconnected with each other in a vast web of spires and glass tunnels.   There is Thestra. The Realm of turquoise waters and cyan skies, of vibrant islands and deadly wildlife. A haven for the lawless. A deathtrap for the foolhardy.   There is Natanan. The Realm of storms and perpetual half-light, the harsh dark realm of eternal nightmares. In the dusk there are pods of light, where adstrumite illuminates the alcoves of small sheltered settlements and serves as a beacon to weary travellers.   There is Gorgoz. The Realm of fire, ash, smoke and sulfur. The Realm of molten rock and running lava. A blighted rock, ravaged and inhospitable. Nothing lives there, save, perhaps, from abominations.   And the final Realm. The Light Realm, the Realm of life, of new beginnings, the source of the lifeforce that binds all other Realms togethers through space and time. The Realm present in the sky of all the others, looming large, mysterious, and ever present.   Diateire.