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Kel-Sereth

There are many places in Wintreath that feel like time... simply passed them by. Kel-Sereth is one such place, nestled in the depths of the Valtava Forest that stretches for miles both Eastward and Westward. Although it has played an active part in the events of the Unification, its denizens prefer a quieter lifestyle.

The Whispering River carves a gorge through the middle of Kel-Sereth, its waters singing silently over the rocks below. Although it is a populous town, a traveller can always hear the creaking of the trees and the rustling of the wind. The air is so clear that to breathe it on a cold day is said to cleanse one's very spirit.

Life in Kel-Sereth might at first seem austere and bleak despite the majesty of its setting, but stay a while and one discovers hidden depths to its personality. The people here are given to talk in low voices, and they do not take kindly to raucous behaviour of any sort, but Serethi folk are kind, and their understated humour has sparked a trend that has reached even as far as the comedy clubs of Frostlake itself. There is a concealed peace to be found if you are willing to take the Serethi at their word and venture into the foreboding depths of the Valtava Forest with naught but your wits for company.

It is little wonder that so many of Wintreath's great philosophers call Kel-Sereth their home, and it comes as no surprise that they have argued so eloquently in favour of the Royal Forest Management Commission's efforts to protect and expand the continent's ancient forests started in ``183.

Osterfell

Situated in the far north-east of the continent, Osterfell is an arduous journey for most travellers to undertake without good reason. When the Nor'easterly winds blow, aerotravel is all but impossible, and even the hardiest of Wintreath's naval vessels will struggle to ply the ice-locked waters to the port carved into the base of the promontory that serves as the foundations of this incredible city.

Luckily for a traveller, Osterfell has a multitude of reasons worth a visit. Discovered several centuries prior, when the northernmost extents of Wintreath had yet to be fully explored, the unique jutting outcrop of rock captivated the attention of one of the foremost architects of the era - Kadlein Ostergaard. With instructions to establish trade ports on the east coast as far northward as she could, Kadlein set about shaping the Iron Fang promontory into a masterpiece of the construction arts.

Now home to a sprawling castle that is still the Seat of the Ostergaard line, Osterfell has expanded from the first encampment on the escarpment looking out over the East Ocean into a cacophony of wonderous sights and styles. The city proper encircles all but the seaward face of the Iron Fang, with fabulous universities, monasteries, museums to great artists and more taking up much of the space behind the High Wall.

Below the city itself, a vast and varied collection of artisans and intellectuals have made their home, and the influences of a thousand schools of thought can be seen reflected in the wildly different architectural styles of each building one passes. When the Royal Call goes out for some new great construction project, it is from this city and these people that the majority of the workforce is drawn.

With the closest major city being Helmgrad to the south, Osterfell has taken on a frontier mentality found in the cities and settlements in the furthest flung reaches of Wintreath - a melting pot of ideas and individuals that inevitably leads to great things. However, Osterfell, like Helmgrad, lives in the ever present shadow of the Eastern Defence Chain. The Norloch Spires lie a matter of a scant few leagues out to sea, and any future activation could see the city cut off completely as esoteric energies whip the wild winds into a maelstrom once again...

Highever

If ever there were a city of Wintreath to live up to the mental image its name evokes, it is Highever. With over twenty spire districts stretching hundreds of feet above the rest of the city, its architecture reflects the attitudes of its population - always reaching for greater heights.

Located almost directly in betwee Sørhavn and Galdémere, Highever is ideally located to capitalise on the vast amounts of trade that pass from the port city in the south to the trade hub to the north. As aerotrade began to expand, its spire districts took on a second role - linking the city to the aero-routes. Now, goods and people flow both down and up the spires, bringing prosperity and wealth to Highever.

The city now contains the primary offices outside of Frostlake City of some of Wintreath's largest banking institutions. When a scion of House Valeria was instructed by the Patriarch to break into the industry, it was to Highever that he came. In the decades since, the Valeria Finance house has become synonymous with the ruthlessly efficient collection and distribution of the funds that drive the economic success of Wintreath.

Much like any city divided between the high soaring reaches of extreme wealth and the lower and darker districts that sit below them, Highever is home to the many nefarious deals that some argue make the banking institutions a sizeable portion of their wealth. Nothing, however, has ever been proven, and the Highever authorities maintain an iron-clad determination to enforce the rule of law.

This has led to the popular expression: "Iron does not break, but like all things it bends for gold."

Beaconslight

If one were brave enough - or stupid enough - to travel northward from Halden's Hearth, dropping down into the twisting, wind-carved valley that snakes its way through the Huggtänder Mountains' impenetrable heights, the world falls away into the Dèigh Siste Området - the Plains of Madness.

In recorded history, only one man has returned from this journey, and his mad ravings and wild eyes were enough to deter any from following in the footsteps of his ill-fated expedition. But in his panicked, crazed diatribe, filled with stories of ice floes that hung in the sky and dancing demons that glimmered and shone in the semi-darkness that forever claims that land... there are grains of truth.

He told of how, as they were beset by the elements, as madness began to gnaw at the edges of their minds, the expedition found solace in a palace carved from solid stone - the last sane place on the edge of the world. As they fought their way through wind and snow, the voices of the damned and other darker, older things carrying on the wind, a light was spotted high on the valley's wall ahead of them. With newfound determination, the men and women of this doomed exploratory party staggered to the lowest steps on an imposing staircase that disappeared into the storm above them.

This mythical place, unknown to those who have never passed beyond Halden's Hearth, is Beaconslight. It is a monument to a time long since vanished into the mists of history, with no human presence to man it beyond the spirits of those who had come before that, if the tales of a madman are to be believed, whisper and dart between its many rooms. If the Vergemål that plagued the northern reaches of Wintreath time and time again in the depths of years gone by came from anywhere, surely it must be here... but the corridors are empty, the imposing ever-burning flame suspended by means unknown to science, untended by the hands of flesh and blood men and women.

What purpose does this outpost have? Where did its occupants go? What history is concealed within its vaulted stone walls and the tunnels that burrow deep within the earth at the edge of the world? One of the only men who knows is long-since dead, and his companions never returned from their journey even further north.

And, more pressingly, what does Halden, the homely keeper of the last Hearth, know of this place..?

The Administerium District

At the centre of Frostlake City sits the beating heart of the nation of Wintreath, both internally and externally. Sitting along a bluff of high cliffs on the otherwise mostly flat island at the centre of the Frost Lake, the Administerium is located where it is specifically for the dramatic effect. When a new arrival drops below the clouds, or rises up on the main tracks from the port train stations, this district is as imposing and ornate as one could expect of the central hub of administration anywhere across the world.

The primary building of the Administerium stretches nearly five miles from end to end, containing within it the entire apparatus of the Wintrean civil service. It is the first port of call for dignitaries from all over the world,  and the dramatic cliff face that one is forced to step onto from the aeroships hammers home the point - this is the centre of Wintreath, and this is where you WILL be awed.

Behind it stretches the far warmer, calmer reaches of the Administerium. First impressions matter, but they aren't everything. Inns, hotels, bars, theatres, libraries and auditoriums (as well as diplomatic embassies) fill the vast sloping descent behind the Administerium down into the rest of Frostlake City proper. Guarded by the austere and dedicated Lostori - the Realm's finest swordsmen and the Realm's finest navigators of the intrigues of politics, this district of Frostlake is the central grounds from which all else radiates.

Rumours spread from the taverns and inns at the boundaries of the Administierum, quiet words are exchanged in the towering hotels and quiet meeting rooms concealed within its perimeter - the ever working, ever moving power at the heart of the Wintrean nation welcomes all... with a wary eye and an informed assessment.

For beyond the immediate Administerium building's welcome lies the carefully concealed Secret Service of Wintreath, never known to act in public, never seen to move where they might be detected, but always there, always watching.

Janth
Were it not for the sprawling marches of the Endless Plains, and the city-granary of Janth, one could argue entirely seriously that Wintreath's long and harsh winters would be too much for the nation to bear. When the winds and snows truly set in, almost everything north of Frost Lake itself is covered in thick blankets of sheet snow that make the warmth of summer seem like a distant memory.

Due to some twist of fate, and an accident of geography, the Janth River basin is mostly shielded from the storms and snows that might reach further south in other areas. The expansive floodplains that stretch out to the north and south of the river's meandering course are vast, and productive even late into the autumns. In ages long past, these lands were home to a hundred small kingdoms fighting for claim over the fertile agricultural lands of the Endless Plains.

But one rose above all others. Of all the Rides Kingdoms, the name of Janth is known to this day as one of the foremost powers of Wintreath's early history. Not through iron and blood was this acclaim won, but through the the toil and sweat of working the plough, of tilling the land and cultivating fruit groves, of the careful study of animal husbandry and cross-pollination. Armies march on their stomachs, and those stomachs were more often than not fed by the produce of Janth.

Today the city appears to be a conglomeration of some great castle, its spires reaching towards the heavens. Its cavernous holds do not contain rooms or armouries, however, but granaries and silos full of produce that makes its way to all four corners of Wintreath in the holds of aerovessels and in the bellies of great river-going ships.

For generations, this granary-cityship has prospered under the watchful eyes of House Burdock, their guiding touch soft but profound on the Janth river basin's history and by extension, all of Wintreath's. Its citizens are friendly, often seen sitting on the wide mossy pavements and under the leafy awnings of their favourite cafés, pipes firmly in mouths and a joke never far from their lips.

Khalen Voss
Known as the Sprawling City, the imposing white ironmarble walls of the Voss Kerensi Monastery sit visible astride the horizon for tens of miles around Khalen Voss. Built by the Edilian Republic at the height of their power for the purpose of worshipping the Ancient Gods that historia academics now refer to as the Forebearers, this city is rightly called a Wonder of the ancient world.

Spreading for miles across the Radorian plains in central south Wintreath, the foundation stones of this great city were all laid from a particularly rare colouration of ironmarble found far to the north in the Hüggtander Mountains. How these monolithic stone blocks were shipped southward across the then-expansive ice sheets that covered most of the continent remains a mystery, but the Edilians obviously felt the effort was worth the result. One would be hard pressed to disagree as Khalen Voss comes into sight - even in the darkness of a winter night it glistens and shimmers in an ethereal glow that permeates the sky above.

Walking through its streets is a humbling experience, as the vast walls that lay out the city districts stretch upwards and seemingly merge with the sky above - an illusion borne of the glare of the sun on the ironmarble. All of this city is built around the Voss Kerensi Monastery, the tallest and most awe-inspiring sight in an already awesome surrounding. To enter the Monastery, one has to climb the Thousand Step Stairway, each step just slightly too large a distance to be comfortable for a man to climb. At the top, the Monastery itself provides access routes through the air  on meandering raised paths that separate one from the hubbub of a thriving city below.

Although the religion that grew around the Ancient Gods once worshipped in Voss Kerensi has long since faded from the world, the inhabitants of Khalen Voss retain hints of the piety of former denizens. They do not swear, they rarely drink, and a traveller visiting might be forgiven for thinking them dour and austere. If one is lucky enough to be invited into a Khaleni's home, however, that image is shattered - they are humble, yes, and many ascribe to an aesthetic that is far more minimalist than the rest of Wintrean society, but they instead find enjoyment in khava - their own brand of strong, almost psychoactive coffee that flourishes in the garden terraces throughout the city.

Khava parties are something to behold, with participants often carried away in their exuberance into whirling dances through hidden courtyards, full of wild musical expression and exultant philosophical debates on the meaning of existence. Those who visit almost always return again and again, seeking that same buzz that naturally pervades the city's inhabitants. Many say there's nothing quite like it anywhere else in the world.

Bastion

Sitting astride a rocky bluff of the Wintrean coastline, Bastion is the centrepiece of the archipelago it draws its name from. Built thousands of years ago at the height of the Rides Kingdom conflicts by those seeking refuge from the incessant wars that were plaguing the continent's interior, this fortress city has a commanding presence in the myriad waterways and straits it oversees.

Initially little more than a fortress, Bastion has been expanded greatly over the years - the architectural preference for thick, battlemented walls and vaulted domes has remained throughout, however, and the city is almost impossible to separate from its defensive origins. Now covering nearly a mile of the western coast, the city extends as far across the surface as it does deep into the rock below, with hundreds of small bays, coves and docks servicing the colossal volume of shipping trade that stops off at Bastion on their way up or down the western seaboard. Many things are stored within this network of caves, caverns and underground storage rooms... and not all of them are legal.

Life in Bastion is regimented, with the fifteen Militia Guilds eternally struggling for dominance over the Martial Council that governs from the original keep. Each is entrusted with the defence and maintenance of a different district within the outer city walls, and to be born in Bastion is to be a part of one Militia or another. Natives of the city seen in the wider reaches of Wintreath are easily identifiable by their Guild tattoos - unique markings on the left cheek and spiralling around the left eye that indicate which of the fifteen Militia districts they are from.

As a result of this particularly militarised culture, Bastioneers are commonly found in service to Wintreath's military branches - except, of course, for the Wintreath Royal Flying Corps. Bastioneers are often heard saying that leaving either the ground or the sea is unnatural, and it is a rare sight to see one aboard an aerovessel. They are also frequently hired on as body-guards for the great Familial Lines or other private interests, as Bastioneer's are notoriously skilled with blade and gun.

The Cerelon Retreat

Many things can be said about the Monarch, Inric I of Wintreath - but one cannot call him derelict in his duties to the nation. So rarely, in fact, did he take holidays that many amongst the upper echelons of Wintrean society began to worry that he would run himself into the ground, leaving the country without an able ruler. This could not be allowed, so many great Houses and vast swathes of the citizenry banded together to fund the construction of this idyllic retreat for the Monarch's personal use at the end of the Hard Years.

Situated in an otherwise uninhabited valley to the north of Frost Lake, the Cerelon Retreat looks out on the vast and untamed natural beauty of Wintreath's wilderness. Sheltered from the vicious winter winds by the bulk of Idrenhan Peak, Cerelon is as removed from the bustle and grind of running the country as Inric I ever allows himself to be. Linked to Frostlake City by a fast picket service of specially designed and tasked aerovessels, and a redundant semaphore line, it is here that His Majesty can be found on the rare occasion he isn't otherwise engaged in administrative tasks.

The Retreat itself is small and homely, built to withstand the coldest winters and the warmest summers in absolute comfort. With hot springs feeding the interior plumbing, ice-cold streams running down the slopes on either side and irrigating the herb gardens His Majesty enjoys tending to and with commanding views over the rest of the valley, it truly is a place of quiet reflective tranquillity.

It is only with special Royal Invitation that any outside of the Monarch's immediate family are allowed to visit, and in the 350 years since its construction fewer than a hundred non-essential individuals have ever stepped foot in the valley itself, let alone the grounds of the Cerelon Retreat.

Káridal

When travelling along the many canals and navigable riverways that constitute the Indurain Causeway network, one more often than not has little reason to look up. There is one notable exception - Káridal, the City of Wind, built into the sheer cliff faces of the Kári Gorge.

Originally intended as little more than a temporary settlement as workers chiselled away at the cliffs to prevent rockfalls and widen the river at the base of the gorge, this astounding testament to the fact that Wintreans truly will live anywhere has long since superseded its humble founding. The Kári River is one of the main tributaries to the Frost Lake Southern River, and the trade that flows through this narrow crack in the continental crust now sustains a vibrant, bustling and almost entirely vertical way of life.

The advent of aerovessels and the burgeoning aeroculture saw Káridal truly come into its own a little over 200 years ago. Ever since, the City of Wind has risen to a prominence in the lives and pilgrimages of the Skyborn and merchant aerotraders that is surpassed only by Argosai and Freemantle. The winds that give the city its nickname are fierce and scour the plateau's on either side of the Kári Gorge, leaving Káridal a vital refuge and route of passage through the South Rides Promontory.

This is a city of life, a city dedicated to art and music and culture almost to the exclusion of all else. Káridal is the single largest importer of khava anywhere in the known world, and it shows - travellers are often advised to go easy on the psychoactive coffee-like drink in their first few wild nights on the town in case they lose their footing along the sweeping main roads that drop vertiginously away towards the river below...

After all, it's a very long way down.

Ravensridge
The seat of power of House Hawkstar, Ravensridge is located approximately half a mile inland on the island of Dahvis, situated on the Sólleitand Peninsula to the south. The castle sits on an elevated plateau, from which one can see across most of the island, being one of the highest points of the island itself. Built in 290 by Erlemann Hawkstar a wealthy merchant baron, the manor soon grew as the demand for goods from across the Kingdom increased, and the Hawkstar fortunes rose with it. After the discovery of the Texts of Higher Learning in 233, the second Patriarch of House Hawkstar, Reinhardt Hawkstar turned the northern plains of the island into a construction site of new aeroships and a docking/loading port of call, the first of its kind to cater to both ocean-based and sky-based ships.

Ravensridge itself has grown and changed many times since it was first constructed, the final renovations done in 145 after a new line of revenue was created with the establishment of the East Wintrean Trading Company - a conglomerate of shipping and defense businesses spearheaded by House Hawkstar, and who were based on the island of Dahvis. The current Patriarch, Rangrim Hawkstar, does not seem interested on altering Ravensridge further, seeming interested in more foreign affairs such as the goings-on in Frostlake City.

The house itself seems steeped in some kind of ancient force that manifests itself into a brilliant show of colors similar to that seen in the Aurora Borealis, but solely localized over the island of Dahvis and on several days a month. It is almost impossible to predict, and further investigation has proved fruitless, as there seems to be no one alive who has any idea of the origin of this phenomenon, which has been termed the Hauksaga by the inhabitants of the island. Whatever its origins, children born under the Hauksaga are more likely to be some of the best sailors and navigators produced by the island, and it is seen as a good omen by the people of Dahvis.

Whereas the island's north is fairly industrialized, Patriarch Reinhardt Hawkstar specifically chose to leave the south fairly agrarian, both to feed the island's populace and to keep the sense of peace that seems to permeate the region. As such, no aeroships are allowed in Ravensridge's airspace, at the risk of being denied entry to Dahvis, and very few ships dock at the southern end of the island, besides those few merchant and trade vessels that offload their wares in the south. Although this may seem counterintuitive to some, the lucrative shipping business on Dahvis and its versatile ports keep vessels moving in and out of the capital of the Hawkstar's trade empire.

Ambience Music:

Vend'lythar

When the Kingdoms of the Ride were at their peak, a grand project was embarked upon that resulted in the construction of the near-mythical floating city of Lenth. In doing so, a vast weight of pure white stone was dug from the sides of the mountains to make way for the colossal storm engines that supported Lenth's spires and arcologies, and this new resource could not be allowed to go to waste.

In the foothills of the mountains, an ancient geological feature was selected as the next development site. Constructed over several decades around a sink-hole that dives far beneath the continental crust, Vend'lythar is a staggering monument to the innovation and drive that was ubiquitous in these early years of Wintrean architectural development.

Vend'lythar has prospered in the centuries since, growing within its circular ramparts until the city council forbade further building works within their walls and created one of the first examples of a national park on the entire continent. The waters of this deep lake - known as Vend'lythar's Eye - are dark but crystal clear, and at night one can stand on the shores and peer down, and down, and down...

A myriad of lights speckle the walls of the sink-hole, testament to the underwater mining operations that crawl their way down to two miles beneath the surface of the water. Ores extracted from these mines have properties unknown anywhere else in Wintreath, and are highly sought after for particularly complex and powerful gearwork contraptions. This has given rise to a school of thought regarding the sink-hole that argues it is the site of an ancient and incredibly powerful impact from the heavens above.

Some even suggest that it is here, somewhere tens of miles into the crushing depths of Vend'lythar's Eye, that the Origin first arrived on the continent. Who knows what truly lies below, and what secrets are waiting to be revealed?