Arborea

The Arvandoran canopies rise in three tiers, forests of titan oaks and silver firs veined with waterfalls whose spray breaks at noon into shimmering prisms of sound. Those who pause in the mist often find snatches of melody lingering in their memory, aether-songs that can be hummed later to summon back lost courage. The Sea of Myriads spreads wide with islands like strokes from an artist’s brush; along their midnight beaches, Symposia gather where poets, paladins, and even pirates trade verses and lyre-songs, their stories carried by currents that favor any tale spoken with honest heart. On solstices, aurorae descend in veils of light that can be walked as stairways; travelers who climb them while singing a promise may step sky to sky and find themselves upon an isle they have never seen but deeply yearn for. Even the stone of the plane holds strange generosity, the Wine-Dark Stone, where iron waits with patience and bronze bears courage, and amphorae will quietly fill themselves if raised in toast to another’s victory.  

Layers

Arvandor, the High Forests and Bright uplands

Cathedral canopies of titanic oaks and maples over velvet moss. Bounty is effortless—wild wheat, heavy orchards, curative thane’s pears, and spirit-touched serren boughs (ghost-kissed bows). Unpredictable showers break to sunbeams and music on the wind. These are the seats of The Seldarine.  

Aquallor

An emerald ocean barely knee-deep across infinity, ripped by thunder squalls and cross-currents; sudden trenches plunge to deity-held chasms and gates to the Plane of Water. The River Oceanus courses through before outflowing here; sailors whisper of maelstroms that loop one back to Thalasia.  

Mithardir

A borderless chalk desert, cold-dry, scoured by lightning that drives walls of dust. Half-buried Giants ruins and tombs hint at True Words once spoken. The layer feels like an emptied palace, age ended, secrets patient.  

Inhabitants

Azatas of many kinds move as patrons of art, freedom, and valor, their presence woven with that of playful but earnest fey who guard consent and revelry as sacred. With them, are the Celestial Eladrin. There are also many Fey Eladrin and other Feys, espacially in Arvandor.   You can also find Agathions and later on Angels.   Mortal petitioners craft, mentor, and safeguard guest-right, building their eternity not on toil but on celebration made meaningful. The plane’s companions include chorus-jurors who weigh disputes, oath-gardeners who tend living promises, and wardens of the open road who ensure no feast or tale is without protection.   Yet even Arborea has its shadows: tyrant shades who try to buy vows with fear, joy-leeches that thrive on hollow praise, and oathbreakers who seek to hide beneath the songs of others.  

Travel and Access

From the Outlands, Arborea is reached when Sylvania’s third night passes without curfew or decree; its fountains ripple into moonlit pools that one may wade through while laughing without malice. At midnight, constellations that echo the sounds of a traveler’s true name brighten, and by speaking them in order, a wanderer may sail a day’s journey along the Star Weave to an isle that shares their calling. Far westward, the shoals fray into the Maelstrom, where dream-sails of silk and promise may surf its shifting border.

Oath taken, are Binding, which means that any oath sworn, and witnessed vows gain metaphysical weight and thus, perjury kicks back.   Every spell is touched by performance here. A wizard who sings, a druid who dances, or a bard who paints words into the air while casting finds their concentration steadier, and their gestures less threatening to onlookers unless the magic itself brings harm. Oathcraft is especially potent; sanctuary, protection, and other spells tied to sworn promises grow stronger, especially when the vow was embodied in art, granting courage against fear for those bound within it. Arborea rewards delight in revelry as well, illusionary or shadowy magic woven to entertain during festivals takes on greater reality within theatres and fairgrounds. But coercive bindings, geasa, and contracts forged in the style of devils are fraught with risk; Arborea rejects chains born of terror, and oathfall punishes the one who dares.   Festivals themselves can be hazards: a Revel Tide may seize a district in spontaneous celebration, bolstering courage when it serves joy but punishing cruelty with shame. Oath-Meteors fall like starlit reminders when a promise is broken, searing no flesh but branding palms with scars that mark an oathbreaker until atonement. Harmonic squalls sweep paths with songs so strong that words twist into music unless travelers sing along, granting camaraderie to those who find harmony. Feyfoot paths braid the land in subtle veining trails as those who approach with bread and a tale may be granted a guide, but those who arrive with greed or coercion find themselves lost without hope of direction. Arborea itself offers boons and curses: bread, salt, and a true name beneath sky or canopy brings sanctuary to guest and host for a day, but false vows draw down Oathfall, a star’s ember that brands deceit and haunts the unfaithful with a curse on their tongue until they seek redemption.