Geographical Features:

Everwealth looks gentle from a distance: green plains, soft hills, rivers like silver wire. Up close, the prettiness is bait. Roads drift into mist and don’t come back. Meadows hide munitions from a war no one remembers starting. A sunlit wood will shrug its soil like a horse shaking flies and throw you skyward on a magick surge, then settle as if nothing happened. Beauty here is the first trap, patience the second. Follow the coast and The Laughing Sea courts you with glassy calms, mirrors so perfect sailors lean over the rail to admire themselves and hear their own voices whisper from below. Then the laughter begins, waves slapping hulls in a rhythm too regular for chance, lantern-lights blooming under black water just far enough off to follow. What looks like safe harbor becomes a field of teeth, reefs, wreck-serpents, and currents that pull a man down slow enough to let him realize how little the sea thinks of him. Step beneath the emerald glow of The Grandgleam Forest and you’ll swear you’ve entered a cathedral, leaves gleam like coin, orbs of light drift like kindly spirits, islands of stone float in silent procession. The forest shifts, ruins breathe, and even the air hunts, spores that blind, surges that fold a hill into a sinkhole, old Elfese Golems that still recognize “intruder” when they see a face like yours. The lights aren’t guides. They’re lures. Climb into The Cloudrend Mountains and the world grows clean and holy, white summits, singing falls, stags that look like omens. The mountain waits for you to believe it. Then fog comes in like wet wool and the ridgeline moves three steps to the left. Wind threads old fissures so the stone hums with voices you almost recognize, right up until the shadow in the cloud unfolds a wing. Out on the ledges you can still read inscriptions cut by hands that froze halfway through the last word. Everwealth is lovely enough to make you weep. That’s how it eats.