Fennimar

Fennimar stretches as a vast woodland hemmed in by jagged, mist-wreathed mountains that form a natural barrier against Limbo’s predators. The slopes are perilous, near-impossible to cross without guidance, ensuring that unwelcome intruders such as the slaadi rarely trespass. Within, the forest is alive with glades, sun-dappled valleys, and cool streams that wind between moss-covered stones. Sylvan beasts and fae creatures wander freely, much as they do in Arvandor, yet here they move quietly, reflecting the solitude of the realm’s master.   The land is never wholly at peace. The skies fracture and reform with Limbo’s mercurial moods: a golden dawn may collapse into storm within moments, only to give way to still twilight before the hour is out. The weather is unpredictable, violent, and fleeting, a reminder that Fennimar is not cut off from the roiling chaos around it but merely endures within it.  

Inhabitants

No cities rise here, nor villages endure. Instead, Fennimar is home to scattered rangers, elves, and humans who come seeking training, contemplation, or exile. Some stay for decades, others only for a season of solitude before returning to their homelands. A few hermits linger for centuries, their lives measured not in community but in communion with the forest and the silence it offers.   The only permanent signs of mortal presence are the waystations—simple shelters of wood and stone stocked with food, water, and clothing. These humble refuges never stand empty for long. Though no community claims them, they are mysteriously replenished, most notably through the efforts of Avery Arrinson, a mortal guardian whose quiet devotion to Fenmarel has become legend.