You are on the world of Coroleya a land filled with mythical creatures and monsters. There you will fight for your right to exist every single day. Survive and you'll become stronger. Lose and you will die a miserable death like the many creatures...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
https://au.pinterest.com/pin/468937379930030867/
Quest Objective
- Reach the Mountain Stronghold of Stonefold
A powerful Dwarven Lord with many connections on the surface of Coroleya, has sent out the call to all warriors of courage to come to the Mountain Stronghold of Stonefold to aid them in eradicating a nest of feral Dwarves that have attacked the City of Torfiol. Sensing an opportunity for more adventure and gold, you take the next caravan out from the village of Brolen as a caravan guard and head towards the Dwarven Realms to make your fortune. The road to the Mountains however is long and treacherous with many perils to be faced before you can reach your destination.
***
There was only one real way to describe the Red Lands, and that was harsh, rugged, and full of hidden dangers.
Surrounded by barren wastes, deserts, and the constant heat of the suns, the Red Lands was aptly named for the color of it's sand dunes, and the blood of those who'd given their lives here, with only shade coming from immense rock formations that dwarfed over them like huge slumbering titans.
Having spent several years traversing this great land, you'd come to appreciate this place as a sort of testing ground for those who desired inner strength, the people that populated the desert sands, as resilient as the land itself. But that was not only not only reason you'd come to admire this place.
Staring out towards the sand dunes, you watch the few trees that dot the horizon shimmer with inner light. The magic that had given them birth, exposed for all to see beneath the light of the stars, and cannot help but feel a sense of wonder at the thought they could exist here of all places. The knowledge imparted to them by the Fae'lon, allowing them to create a sort of magical oasis that stretched the length and breadth of the country. Though even their magic could not dispel the overpowering heat, and the hundreds of creatures that still lurked within the sand dunes.
Just looking at this place, you could see the eternal struggle between the desert which fought to reclaim the land, and the magical forces that held it at bay, the thin line between death, and life intermingling so closely together, you sometimes imagine the ground littered with the bones of those lost in the struggle.
Throat parched with thirst, you glance back at the line of wagons, perhaps hoping the caravan master would call a halt for the night, when your eyes catch hold of the basilisks dragging the wagons forward across the desert sands. The wooden carts crafted to glide forward across the rocky soil.
Proud, majestic beasts that dwelt deep within the deserts, the basilisks were the natural predators to most creatures, their ability to turn their meals into stone or shoot poisonous gas from their jaws making them the deadliest creature by far in the wasteland. Guided by red robed riders who were taught how to handle these ferocious predators, the creatures were blinded at birth to ensure no one could be turned to stone, and had their poison glands removed to protect their riders.
