By The Moon's Blade

Welcome to Cloudridge

Even though I would never dare set foot outside the walls of Cloudridge, I know there is a certain uniqueness about the city, something that I wouldn't find anywhere else. It feels like Cloudridge is some sort of oasis, full and rich. As you navigate your way through the various streets, taverns, and homes, you can't help but feel a sort of fullness deep within your soul. Cloudridge is a place where you feel like you truly belong.

My grandfather, I called him Poppy, had always told me the story of Cloudridge, the formation of our castles in the sky. Poppy was something of a grandfather to all within our clan, always sharing stories with the youngsters in our clan, whether they wanted to listen or not. You'd often find groups of these kids with toys in hand, obviously prepping for another afternoon of games and activities, gathered around the moonpools in the center of town listening to ol' Poppy. I can hear his voice now, a distant memory but such a strong presence.

Cloudridge was formed relatively recently, before I was even a thought whispered into the universe, but no more than two or three centuries ago. Unfortunately, Cloudridge did not start with the same peaceful nature as it holds today. In fact, it was quite the opposite. If you know anything about the Tadral region, you know that it's always been a war-torn realm. From the north, south, east, and west, every kingdom wants to claim Tadral as their own. Though small groups have tried throughout the centuries to become a commanding force and fight for the realm, the war has always been dominated by two large kingdoms - the Apros Kingdom to the North and Goldstar Kingdom to the South. Just before the inception of Cloudridge was the Battle of Kingdom's Heart. This battle ravaged everything and everyone. No single race, clan, kingdom, or family was safe from harm.

Giving up was the only option.

But hope is persistent and everyone did what they could to hold on to that bright little strand. What other choice did they have? They could have let the darkness swallow them whole, drown in a pit of despair, let their bodies continue to ache, and eventually decay into nothing. A feast for the land. But in those darkest hours, those that had lost the most... well, they fought to find the light.

They fought to find shelter, a place they could call home. They fought for food, sustenance, and warm clothes. Exiled clans from different regions of Tadral gathered together, surveying what they had lost while trying to avoid the presence of lingering soldiers. They spent months in deserted lands, repeatedly breaking down their belongings and migrating, with no place to call their own.

Soon enough, the gathered clans decided that they had enough. They had no desire to participate in a war of nobility, a war existing only to bolster the names of people that had spent their time torturing and murdering the very people they wanted to rule over. The clans also had no plans to flee their land, the only land they knew to call home.

Months of wandering came and passed, and small squabbles happened between clan leaders, trying to decide on their next move. Would they continue living a nomadic lifestyle, dodging soldiers and mercenaries? Would they settle down on some land within the region and fight any invaders? Then, it was the moon elf leader (my very own Poppy) piped up,

"Have we considered The Shattered Mountains?"

As he brought this idea to the table, his group went quiet. When he told this story (as he told thousands of times), he said it was so quiet you could hear a spider in the trees forming their web, the muffled footsteps of a wildcat stalking a deer. After a few seconds of silence, the group roared - some with laughter, some with confusion, and some with utter disbelief. The Shattered Mountains were in the middle of Tadral and no one dared take that path. Battles were fought with the mountain range in mind, battalions curving their path around the base, but never through. Never, ever through.