THE ROTHENIAN PLAIN
Life is hard in the open lands, where only the wind is free. Among the rolling, endless grasslands of the Rothenian plains, Kariv bands dance among gaudy, mule-drawn wagons, keeping an uneasy peace with the Hazar and Korfesh centaurs. In the tall grass lurk the wild, wind-running elves of the dry grass steppes, sharp-eyed and unforgiving.
No hand is friendly here. The region’s few cities are held in fists of iron, and robber barons command the river-roads. Any place where two stones are piled together is hostile to nomads, though friendly to mercenaries. A bloodthirsty tyrant and his coterie of debauched slavers control the Ruby Sea. The gnomes of Neimheim make bloody sacrifices to please the lords of the Eleven Hells. The stout men of Vidim and the Khazzaki ride tough steppe ponies for plunder. Baba Yaga plays one khan against another, a friend for a month or a year—and then a bitter foe.
From these empty quarters come strange alliances of man, elf, and centaur to wrest gold from the cities and kings, to assault the walls of Morgau’s Cloudwall, and try the strength of steel among Perun’s Daughters. Here, you can learn the dread secrets of the Eastern Tsars, their alliance with Baba Yaga, and their serfs who are little more than slaves. Learn the magic of the winds and feel the rush of stealing the Black God’s cattle. Dare it all, or risk nothing and tramp on old boots and little hope.
The steppes smell of wild thyme all summer long when the golden grass parts before a rider’s horse with a dry whisper and the wind takes flight to the horizon. The lands lie beneath pure white blankets of snow in the winter, when few dare travel far. The people of the Rothenian Plain wander the horizon, holding tight to their freedoms and fighting hard to keep their herds moving, their hearts bold, and their people strong.
Kariv magic, centaur steel, and the finest bows ever strung await you—if you are strong enough!
