World:Loquitur/Rubinbeach & the Bloodsea

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Falesia1.jpg

If one were to venture all the way west one would find himself surrounded by the tar black mud of dead swampland, seemingly endless miles of it. The decay and decomposition reeks into the air. Fumes and vapors so horrendous that only the smell might make the stoutest and most disciplined of man throw his last meal into the horrid grey black mixture of the earth around. Here and there a dead tree shows the superfluous struggle to survive in these wastes. The superfluous struggle to get some light into the sky or from it, a never ending shadow in its stead. If one took his time and looked up, instead of hurrying his way through these dead lands, one might actually wonder if the sky was nothing more then a strong reflection of the ground and ask himself if there would ever be light again.

Fortunately, and even though the fumes create illusions far beyond the comprehension of time-spacial continuousness, dragging spacial dimensions to their outer most comprehensible extension and stretching time beyond that very comprehension, there is a end.

As one lets the last patch of rotten soil behind, one finds himself in a dark forest, trees beyond the height and age of that of the regularly expected. Some even say the oldest tree itself can be found in these forests. Whispers around every twig. Profane words around every tree. Animals shun this place, yet it is not vacant of life. Life that ranges from wild dark elves in an favourable encounter to ancient dormant beasts.

As if sleep walking through a bad dream one eventually arrives at the center piece of this painting. A giant lake.

Red it shines back at the sky, that even though we already left the shadow land of the swamp behind, is still filled with the its rotten fumes. Here the sun shines again, not hindered by darkness or treetops it shines, yet the light does not feel alive, yet the colour seems misplaced, yet ... everything is merged into a blood red.

Continuing the journey through this are we notice there is no river leading into the lake, only a small creek that follows its path towards the ocean. We shall follow this path winding through another patch of forest, thinner forest. A forest filled with human life, vaguely here and there a house or small settlement of white skinned men as well as lesser enslaved races. Let's not wait any longer and find our way to the end of this little red watered stream. Hasty we pass a major settlement, a city of sorts, missing though any fortifications or guard. Several towers rise around one central coliseum were we find our track passes through. Rubinbeach.

One last look at the small but sturdy houses that lay the base for all other structures, and we have left the town only to find ourselves at the end of our trip. The ocean. A long range of steep cliffs border this side of the continent, only here and there a small track leads down to the shores filled with egg like stones that sparkle into the sky.