Zameen

Zameen is a world in decline. Entropy reigns.   The empires of old are long dead, and the nations formed from their corpses have in turn crumbled into city-states with loose affiliations with each other. Vast stretches of wilderness exist in the spaces between the fragile hives of population, the tenuous grip of ancient civilizations having long ago been pried free from most lands.   Outside forces conspire against each other to harvest what resources and power they can from the world before it finally becomes a tomb world. Weed-priests make grand pilgrimages to ruined capitals, guild-masters consort with fiends to twist reality for their own profit, and cults of madmen give themselves to the hunger of dark, elder beings. Shifting desert sands continually reveal, hide and reveal again forgotten supply bunkers left by people dead for millennia. Cannibal elves roam jungles haunted by the sulfurous miasma that rolls off the Blasted Lands. Rolling, grassy hills reverberate with the thunderous passing of huge tribes of feral halflings riding their war dogs. Grass taller than men conceals the eternal life and death struggle of catfolk and gnolls.