Paragon

[Ghostman]

Hello Architcet, I'm glad that you're finding this setting interesting. :)

Renegade (former) paragons do exist in the world, as NPC characters. They could be temporary allies for PCs during a scenario, but aren't really suitable as player characters -- a mixed party would be difficult to justify and keep together, and the renegade character would have to sit out on many scenes.

I think that the Paragon order could benefit from having a Ranger corps of some kind, Lord of the Ring's Dunedin or Game of Throne's Nightwatch could serves as inspiration. Some real world inspiration be drawn from Circuit Judges and or the Texas Rangers. Paragon's are obligated to protect a vast amount of territory and even with a wide array of domesticated giant flying  beast are likely to be a reactive rather than proactive force when it comes to dealing with threats. A partial solution is for a contingent of Paragons drawn from the ranks of  the outdoorsy types that are rather good at dealing with people, to be assigned given territories which they patrol for dangers;there would also be ranger station where people know that they can go to for aid or shelter in event of a crisis.

It's already kind of assumed in the setting that many a paragon's duties would include that kind of wandering patrols. Just without a special organization.

Magic that mere mortals could tap into. Maybe it's cutting deals with demons or nature spirits, maybe A strong willed mortals can manifest eidolons weaker than what a Paragon could call forth certainly but still impressive to other mortals, perhaps mortals can use the same dynama fueled magic as Paragons albeit a much weaker version.

Other magics do exist but they aren't dynama-based, they're something entirely different. I'm not sure if I'm going to try detailing any of them though.

It's incorrect to use the word "mortal" to distinquish ordinary people from paragons, since paragons are human beings and just as mortal as anyone else. Although they are miraculously empowered, they aren't actually considered to be divine in nature, not even partially. I think this is an important feature of the setting that ought to be made clear.

And even if the Triarma must be a sword and sheath, are their no mighty arms that could be bestowed upon a worthy mortal companion.

Magical artifacts (other than triarma, anyway) should be rare, to the point that it's rather unlikely one would be seen in a game, if not as a plot device. I want to keep equipment management to a minimum and keep the focus on characters' abilities, goals and relationships. Eidolons do wield fantastic weapons of wide variety, but those are really just part of their manifest avatars and thus not something that can be acquired.

P.S. I find it fairly ironic to use a picture of Archer in that context, given how much Archer fights with his swords vs how little he actually uses his bow. :P

[Gardening-Architcet]

Hello Architcet, I'm glad that you're finding this setting interesting. :)

Renegade (former) paragons do exist in the world, as NPC characters. They could be temporary allies for PCs during a scenario, but aren't really suitable as player characters -- a mixed party would be difficult to justify and keep together, and the renegade character would have to sit out on many scenes.

I think that the Paragon order could benefit from having a Ranger corps of some kind, Lord of the Ring's Dunedin or Game of Throne's Nightwatch could serves as inspiration. Some real world inspiration be drawn from Circuit Judges and or the Texas Rangers. Paragon's are obligated to protect a vast amount of territory and even with a wide array of domesticated giant flying  beast are likely to be a reactive rather than proactive force when it comes to dealing with threats. A partial solution is for a contingent of Paragons drawn from the ranks of  the outdoorsy types that are rather good at dealing with people, to be assigned given territories which they patrol for dangers;there would also be ranger station where people know that they can go to for aid or shelter in event of a crisis.

It's already kind of assumed in the setting that many a paragon's duties would include that kind of wandering patrols. Just without a special organization.

Well  a title or designation for the Paragon's that are stationed on the surface and serve as first responders to the various threats that roam the surface, would work for me. I can even see tension developing between the Surface Paragon who actually live and work with the people and the Skyward Paragon who only leave the citadels on mission.  The Skyward Paragons thinking that Surface Paragons have grown to familial with the surface folk and are "going native, the Surface Paragon" thinking of the Skywards as soft,arrogant and disconnected from the people that they are supposed to  to be protecting. 

Magic that mere mortals could tap into. Maybe it's cutting deals with demons or nature spirits, maybe A strong willed mortals can manifest eidolons weaker than what a Paragon could call forth certainly but still impressive to other mortals, perhaps mortals can use the same dynama fueled magic as Paragons albeit a much weaker version.

Other magics do exist but they aren't dynama-based, they're something entirely different. I'm not sure if I'm going to try detailing any of them though.

It's incorrect to use the word "mortal" to distinquish ordinary people from paragons, since paragons are human beings and just as mortal as anyone else. Although they are miraculously empowered, they aren't actually considered to be divine in nature, not even partially. I think this is an important feature of the setting that ought to be made clear.


I was thinking of the setting in well a mythic sense, the Paragons are people literally uplifted by the Empyreans a group of god like beings. Thus I was seeing the Paragons as essentially Demigods or Nephilim, though by infusion rather than heredity,calling the common people mortals flowed from that and sounded more flavorful than mundanes. 

And even if the Triarma must be a sword and sheath, are their no mighty arms that could be bestowed upon a worthy mortal companion.

Magical artifacts (other than triarma, anyway) should be rare, to the point that it's rather unlikely one would be seen in a game, if not as a plot device. I want to keep equipment management to a minimum and keep the focus on characters' abilities, goals and relationships. Eidolons do wield fantastic weapons of wide variety, but those are really just part of their manifest avatars and thus not something that can be acquired.

P.S. I find it fairly ironic to use a picture of Archer in that context, given how much Archer fights with his swords vs how little he actually uses his bow. :P

Hero Emiya is first and foremost a marksmen, it urned  him the designation of Archer rather than Fencer or Saber, the legend of the nameless Hero revolves around his usage of the bow. Archer has the eyesight and a bow powerful enough to het targets miles off and with arrows that explode like miniature nukes, that sounded like something that warrior mystic should be able to do. 

[Ghostman]

A part of the daily routine of most paragons, this simple but elegant ritual is performed at sunrise. It is a commonly used method to regenerate dynama. The paragon stands in a receptive posture, facing the emerging sun with open arms. When the solar flame ascends from the eastern horizon, the crystal blade is slowly and grandiosely drawn from it's golden sheath. Both pieces of the triarma are raised high to capture the first light of the morning. The ceremony concludes with the paragon sheathing the blade and bowing courteously to the sun. This ritual can be performed even when the sky is overcast, but it will then be less potent at recovering dynama.

Another ritual that regenerates dynama, the Ceremony of the August Blade can be performed at any hour in almost any quiet place. It requires intense psychic concentration that renders the performer largely oblivious to his surroundings. The paragon places his triarma to rest upon an altar, which can be a simple, small pedestal of wood or stone. A makeshift altar may be put together from assorted suitable materials, as long as it is constructed with sincere care and piety. The paragon prostrates reverently before his triarma and engages in occult worship of the object, repeatingly chanting a cadenced prayer, allowing his mind to lose sense of time and place in an effort to render consummate veneration.

An elaborate, ritualistic war dance performed with triarma. The Dance of Ten Thousand Strikes is a graciously flowing spectacle where a paragon moves seamlessly from one combat stance and technique to another, executing choreographic feints and parries and attacks in rhythm with drumming music. This ceremonial dance is used as a means of training the body in the motions of combat, focusing the mind and preparing the soul for the spiritual perils of violent conflict. It is also a commonly featured performance art in festivals and tournaments, an occasion for paragons to compete and display their martial skill in a nonviolent way.

[Magnus Pym]

Concerning the Ceremony of August Blade, and my question will potentially bring us into a wider discussion, but what does the August mean here? Where does it come from?

You see, in our world, we have history to give the word meaning. To give it prestige. So did anyone named August achieve great things in your setting?

[O Senhor Leetz]

Concerning the Ceremony of August Blade, and my question will potentially bring us into a wider discussion, but what does the August mean here? Where does it come from?

You see, in our world, we have history to give the word meaning. To give it prestige. So did anyone named August achieve great things in your setting?

Totally nitpicking here, but August was a title bestowed upon Roman emperors. Even Augustus was born Gaius Octavius.

Nitpicking aside, you do make really good point about meaning we attach to words IRL and how that can seep into our settings.

[Ghostman]

In this case it's simply a suitably grandiloquent word I picked to indicate 1) prestige attached to triarma and the ceremony, and 2) that the sword+sheath are treated as an object of veneration.

[Ghostman]

The peoples of the world have many peculiar practices that might be called sorcery. These folk magics are as different from each other as they are from the powers of the paragons. None of them involve channeling dynama.

Dowsing is the craft of finding hidden sources of fresh water beneath the ground. The dowser spends several days in ritual fasting and then walks in search for water, using a special rod to sense it's presense. Dowsers are most numerous and respected in arid lands where water is scarce, but their craft is known everywhere.

Geomancy is using ancestral knowledge about the natural world's alignment with the spirit world to identify locations that are auspicious or inauspicious for various purposes, such as cultivation, dwellings, burial or quarantining the ill. A field tilled on a plot deemed auspicious by a geomancer will yield more ample crops, while the souls of the dead will pass on their journey peacefully on an optimally situated necropolis. Most villages have a holy man who retains the art of geomancy that has been passed down for generations in his family.

Talismans are thin flat tablets usually made of wood or bone, with arcane symbols painted on one or both sides. Magical items of the most common kind, they are created by masterful artisans for various purposes: protection from accidents, success in romantic endeavours, safekeeping of valuables, warding off evil spirits, easing childbirth, increasing prosperity of a household, longevity, good health and cursing grave looters. These tablets are usually nailed, glued or suspended on places they are intended to protect, but some are carried in one's person and brandished when they are needed. They are always handled with reverent care, so that they wouldn't lose their power. The craft of creating talismans is very ancient and widespread.

Summoning of Demons as a folk magic is an old tradition among some tribes and virtually unknown among others. The summoner consumes a potion to enter a trance, inviting a spirit from Pandemonium to possess him. Another person may then bargain with the demon for information or favours. This is a dangerous form of sorcery because demons can be unpredictable and sometimes refuse to leave the summoner's body.

Spells are cadenced verbal rotes similar to poetry. Spoken in a magical voice, they invoke deities and fey powers, imploring them to grant their aid. Spells are directed at other characters and have an enthralling effect on them -- instilling a particular emotion, robbing them of their wits, convincing them of some falsehood, or even binding them under the sway of the speaker. The act of reciting a spell is called "casting" it, as it is likened to a fisherman casting a net to ensnare the fish. Spellcasting may be the least common form of sorcery, and it is typically viewed as malevolent. Among all people in the world, talented poets and singers are the ones most able to become spellcasters because they are blessed with sublime tongues that can more easily speak in a magical voice.

[Magnus Pym]

Thumbs up!

[Ghostman]

[ic=A Test of Courage]
The short grass, still wet after the evening's rain, feels soft and slick under my bare feet. Running ahead on the darkened lakeside illumined only by moonlight and a small candle in my hand, I struggle to keep pace with my elder sister. "Come on!," she hurries me up excitedly. Our footpath takes us along the shoreline, occasionally passing by a lone tree or bush. There is but faint wind in the air, barely enough to make audible rustle in the reeds. With the lakeside being devoid of people at this hour, the loudest things present appear to be crickets -- after my noisy sibling.

I stumble on my step a bit and almost drop the candle. In times like this it would be useful to be able to create my own light, but that magic remains far beyond my grasp. "Is it still far ahead?" I ask, having but the vaguest sense of the distance we've covered so far in this darkness. My sister tells me that we should now be drawing close to our destination, but doesn't sound too certain of it herself. The coolness of the night air begins to chill my body, and I regret having agreed to this senseless ordeal. My sister, full of confidence and energy as always, doesn't seem bothered at all though. She bears in her hands a small reed basket containing dyed pebbles.

It's a test of courage, something of a tradition for children in our village. Everyone living here is said to have taken the test, despite that grown-ups disapprove of it. A simple task of going to an old standing stone in a grove by the lakeside after dark, and leaving something at the foot of the stone as proof of completing the trial. What makes this courageous is that the grove is said to be haunted. The mere thought of it gives me shivers but my sister seems unfazed, hopping onward with a bouncy gait a couple of paces ahead of me.

There is still no sight of the grove, not that I can see very far in the dim gloom. I can't help but wonder what terrors might be lurking in the darkness. I close my eyes for a moment and concentrate, turning away from my familiar senses and focusing on opening my inner eye as I've been trained to do. Trying to perceive my surroundings, I sense the crickets in the shrubs, the many bugs crawling down in the grass, the odd bird perched on a tree branch. Above all I sense my sister, her powerful aura shining like a beacon in the night. There is no disturbance here, no presense of ghosts or fell spirits that I can perceive, but this gives me little comfort. A rustle of leaves snaps me back to my mundane senses; the wind is growing stronger.

The path brings us on the edge of a steep bank when a sudden gust sweeps at us, dragging at my sister's clothes. She manages to maintain her balance but loses grip of her basket, and it falls rolling down the bank. "Ack! We can't lose those rocks. Help me pick them up," she bellows frustratedly. I can only sigh and hope that none of the pebbles ended up in the lake. We need to leave all of them by the old standing stone to complete the test. I carefully descend the eroded bank down to a muddy beach, where the basket lies overturned and empty.

I try my best to protect the candle's flame while my sister searches for the rocks in the mud. Thankfully the wind seems to be calming now, and I find myself captivated by a bridge of silverly light cast by the moon on the lake's surface, twinkling on the waves. It is an eerily beautiful sight. As I look on in awe, the air stills entirely, the small waves cease to roll, and even the crickets quiet down. My sister rises to stand next to me. She has found most of the rocks and put them back into the basket, but one is still missing. Perhaps it rolled into the lake? She bids me to lower the candle so that we may peer into the water.

We crouch down by the waterline, trying to catch a glimpse of a dyed pebble through the murky water. As we do so, an ominous sensation crawls through me. Everything around us is completely silent. The stilled air feels strangely heavy, almost suffocating. The mud under my feet feels slimy and cold. The flame of the candle flickers out without apparent cause, and I find that I cannot divert my eyes from the perfectly flat surface of the water. My body is numb and frozen still, and I can see the reflection of my self and my sister looking motionless like statues.

Something appears behind us in the reflection: the vague figure of an old woman, her long hair grayed and tangled, her shabby clothes tattered and dirty. She hunches over us as she draws nearer, her atrophied face unbelievably wrinkled, eyes sunken so deep that they are hidden in the shadow of her brow. The image of the crone reflected in the water places a crooked hand on the shoulder of my sister, whose face has now turned as pale with abject terror as my own, completely bereft of her usual temerity. Somehow, I muster enough strength of will to slowly turn my head to look behind us, only to find that the old woman isn't there. Shocked and confused, my gaze is drawn back to the dark water where the ghastly figure still looms behind our reflections, still grasping my sister. It opens it's toothless mouth to croac a single word that rings horrifically in my ears: "Come!" And having uttered that word the visage suddenly scuttles away, disappearing into the depths of the lake, dragging the reflection of my sister with it.

The numbness of my body wanes and I find that I can move freely again. I immediately reach for my sister, who is still beside me and frozen in place, the look in her eyes glazed. There is no sign of the old woman anywhere, and the wind and the waves have resumed. I try to stir my sister by calling her name and shaking her gently, but she does not respond. I look on the surface of the water, now being broken by waves. I can still make out my own distorted image, but my sister's reflection is nowhere to be seen.
[/ic]

[Ghostman]

Earthbound kingdoms are centred on city-states ruled by theocratic monarchs known as priest-kings. These men possess religious and political power, but also some degree of magical power. A priest-king is, in some sense, an avatar of the protector deity of his city. As such he is a superhuman being whose very presense on the throne bolsters the safety and prosperity of the city and it's domain. The king is a high priest of the city's guardian deity, but as an avatar of the same he is also an object of veneration. Appeals to the priest-king are appeals to the god. This does not make the priest-king's person sacrosanct, for he is merely one holy ruler in a succession of many. Should he fall or be deposed, another will rise in his place as the next avatar.

The extent and magnitude of a priest-king's abilities depend on his god-identity and personal virtue. There are, however, certain powers that seem to be universal among them: that they can not be swayed by lies; that they can expel fear and doubt from the hearts of their subjects with a gesture; that they can bestow fertility upon the fields by enacting a ritual fornication; that the brilliance of the Sun does not blind or sting their eyes; and that they never sleep, but may dream while awake. These are known as the five majestic gifts. It is also a well known fact that a priest-king's blood is golden rather than red, owing to his quasidivine nature.

Since many earthbound kingdoms are still under the dominion of skyward realms, their priest-kings are direct vassals of citadel lords. Although this relationship is personal it is also quite distant, as the two barely ever meet in the flesh. Regular communication is maintained via messengers and occasional visits by envoys. Vassaled priest-kings must send tribute once per year and may be called upon to assist in a war effort, but beyond that they are left to rule their kingdoms however they please. It is more likely that a priest-king calls upon his citadel lord for protection or advice.

Sometimes paragons need to visit the court of a priest-king for some reason or another. Audience is granted to those on official business from the incumbent citadel, but others may be turned away -- unless there is a herald among them. Paragons admitted to stand in the presense of a priest-king are permitted to keep their triarma, but they must be sheathed and wrapped in cloth rather than worn ready to be drawn.

[Magnus Pym]

That's so cool!

I have something like that in Primeval. A yet undisclosed detail that I did have on paper. The priest-king is a suteph.

But yeah, cool picture and cool info.

[Ghostman]

Several tribes of mankind have settled in the Country of Five Rivers. Three among them stand above others, having claimed the largest and choisest of territories for themselves: the Golden Scarab Tribe, the Horned Viper Tribe, and the Song of the Reeds Tribe. By appearance and customs these peoples are similar -- coppery-red of skin with thick dark hair, draped in loincloths or loose sheets and robes of sun-bleached linen, dwelling in huts of adobe, living off crops grown on fields watered by irrigation canals, and celebrating every dawn with rites in reverence of the sun. Every tribe speaks in it's own native tongue.

Numerous earthbound kingdoms thrive on these tribes' lands, centred on powerful cities surrounded by mudbrick walls and housing tall ziggurats. Always they vie for territory and influence, sometimes by diplomacy and guile, at times by spears and arrows. They are joined by two skyward realms that remain from the bygone days of wonder: Akhet-hor and Chandramani. Cutthroat bands of nomads roam on the hinterlands, eyeing the fruits of civilization greedily.

[spoiler][/spoiler]
The Country of Five Rivers is vast and much of it remains in a state of wilderness. On it's central plain, great flatlands of hot savannah expand as far as the eye can see, covered in tall grass, thorny shrubs, and the odd dragontree. The plains extend northwest to the coast of the Elder Sea, where many aquatic monsters are said to lurk in the depths beneath it's glittering surface. Toward the west the landscape becomes drier and hotter, gradually turning into the inhospitable wasteland of the High Desert, whence powerful sandstorms occasionally sweep out on to the savannah. To the south rise the barren cliffs of the Pale Mountains, an ominous range of steadily eroding rock punctured by a labyrinthine web of narrow canyons, defiles and tunnels of unknown origin. It is a dangerous place haunted by ravenous ghosts and trickster devils. The southeast is dominated by the intractable Hungry Forest, a fetid jungle that continues on further than anyone has explored. The northeastern parts of the country are called the Bonelands, a rugged area of hills and ravines where the broken skeletons of immense behemoths litter the landscape. Giant mushrooms and strange animals infest this area, which also bears ancient ruins of Reptite towers from the time before the great flood.

The five great waterways of the Opal River, the Sapphire River, the Pearl River, the Dreaming River and the Wraith River cut serpentine paths through the land on their way to the shore of the Elder Sea in the nortwest. These rivers and their navigable tributaries connect the towns and villages of the civilized tribes, and carry life-giving water and sediment to the fields. Mud from their floodplains is collected and burnt into bricks for the construction of houses and defenses alike. Reed boats navigate the streams, hauling cargo and passangers. The rivers are an important symbol of life itself for the tribesmen, and are revered as holy things.

[spoiler][/spoiler]
The mighty skyward realm of Akhet-hor hovers above the Sapphire River, over the lands of the Golden Scarab Tribe. It is comprised of several floating islands residing closely together, many of them connected via rope bridges. These isles are quite rocky and mountaineous, yet also lush with vegetation. A sizeable town and a number of small villages stand upon the floating landmasses, their densely packed houses built on steep slopes. The sparse available flatlands are all carefully cultivated, along with many hillsides that have been shaped into terraces. The main island is dominated by the magnificently towering edifice of the citadel, the magical structure responsible for keeping the skyward realm aloft. It is the stronghold of the paragons of Akhet-hor and the seat of Grand Master Sharek, who reigns as the citadel lord.

[spoiler][/spoiler]
Despite it's splendour Akhet-hor is facing trying times. The number of paragons in it's ranks is in decline, the neighbouring earthbound kingdoms are becoming more aggressive and belligerent, many recent years have seen drought and poor harvests, messengers bring unconfirmed news about monsters being sighted in the wilderness, and relations with the distant Chandramani have cooled. Ill omens abound. Even the court diviner sees the same prophetic dream every night, wrought with visions about trials and ordeals ahead. His fevered words restate a warning: "Take heed, wise one, for a great storm is coming!" Be that as it may, the paragons of Akhet-hor are nothing short of tenacious. They will not go down without a fight.

[Ghostman]

[spoiler=On Akhet-hor]

Dragon's Nest
An aviary near the citadel, where dragons and other flying mounts are stabled and aspiring riders are trained in their handling. A wide flat platform extends off the base of the aviary, to make taking off and landing easier. There is also a small watchtower used for signaling with flags and mirrors.

Court of the Obelisks
This is a large open court in front of the citadel's main entrance, flanked on two sides by rows of obelisks. It is used for public gatherings, ceremonies, festivities, oaths and duels. The courtyard is paved with colorful flagstones that form a mosaic depicting the disc of sunfire being lifted by the phoenix bird.

Heaven's Gate
A ziggurat on one of the smaller isles next to Akhet-hor's main island. The hawk-faced protector deity of the skyward realm is enshrined on the top. The ziggurat is faceted with blocks of silvery-blue stone.

Lunar Garden
When paragons and civil servants wish to relax on their free time, they often head to this enclosed garden. While the garden's enchanted perimeter is fairly small from the outside, the world inside it is miraculously vast and spacious. There are many kinds of delightful flowering plants on display, but most prominent of them all are the moonflowers that only bloom at night. Ornate fountains provide refreshment on hot days, and festooned oil lamps shed pleasant lighting after dark. Pathways through the garden twist and cross and double back on themselves, separated by rows of trees and hedges, which creates many private refuges suitable for amorous encounters.

Tower of Wisdom
This slender white tower stands impossibly tall for the capabilities human masonry. Like the citadel, it was erected by the empyrians and later repurposed. Now it houses scribes, physicians and astrologers in service to the citadel lord. The uppermost floors are used as observatories and studies, while the ground floor contains the citadel's library. The middle floors contain many incubation chambers, for paragons and others to make use of when they seek visions or attempt to embark on dream quests.
[/spoiler]

[spoiler=In the Country]

Valley of Three-Legged Men
The inhabitants of this secluded valley are very odd people. They dwell in circular huts that are buried into the ground, such that only their conical roofs are visible. They refuse to touch metal with bare hands, believing it to be holy. Their males are born with three legs instead of two, and run as fast as the flightless ranga-birds they hunt. The valley is blessed with rich pastures of abundant game, but it is also plagued with frequent flights of massive gadfly swarms.

Twin Cities
These two city-states, Ava-karana and Avi-karana, sit on opposite banks of the Dreaming River, facing off each other like duelists. They are rivals in all matters, and have been locked in an everlasting ritual war since the first days of their founding. At every new moon each city musters a company of braves and sends them to clash in a ceremonial battle, observed by the populace from each side. The victor of that skirmish receives a tribute from the other city, and violence ceases for a month, only for the the cycle to repeat again. The Twin Cities are famed for their lavish royal courts and luxuries.

Waterfall City
This city resides on a ledge-like plateau between two landrises, sprawling to either direction from the Opal River which flows across it. The wide and fast-flowing river cascades down the cliffs in roaring waterfalls. It can only be crossed via a bridge of transparent green stone, made of a single piece that arcs across the entire span without any supports. Waterfall City is ruled by an eunuch king who is never seen in public, but is rumoured to be able to create illusions and send them to deceive his enemies. The town is positioned so safely that it has no need for walls, and it's warriors ride Andoos and other winged beasts. Visitors in lieu of flying mounts are winch-lifted up to the city on a gondola if they are dignitaries, while paupers have to ascend a dangerously narrow and winding path up the cliffs.
[spoiler][/spoiler]
The Hollow Mesa
A lone mesa stands eerily in the badlands where the Pale Mountains give way to the dunes of the High Desert. You could never tell it by looking from around it, but this mass of rock is hollow inside. It houses a colony of chittering desert monsters, childlike in size and shape, with shark teeth, rubbery hairless bodies and very large bulging eyes that gleam in the dark. They only come out at night, emerging from secret tunnels dug beneath the dunes, to scavenge and steal from unwary travelers. Sometimes they can be heard "singing" in wild screeching noises.

The Ringing Stele
A monumental stele carved from an immense slab of granite, it stands on a hilltop overlooking the ford on Pearl River. The stele was erected to commemorate the great battle fought a century ago on this crossing, where Nattakir the Heartless, savage warlord of the Striding Horde, had fallen. An ominous droning noise, like the ringing of a large bronze bell, sounds constantly from the stele. Some say that it is because thousands of lost souls were trapped on the battlefield and were bound to the stele by fell magics, and are now humming in prayer.

The Hidden Temple
An extensive temple complex is carved into the rock of a cliff face somewhere in the maze of the Pale Mountains. It's location is a mystery, as the travelers who have happened upon it by accident have given wildly contradictory accounts of it's whereabouts, and none of those explorers that have gone searching for the temple have found it. Some sages speculate that the temple may be moving so as to appear in different places, or even that the very shape of the unmapped landscape is in flux, transforming when no one is watching. The temple complex is attended by an ascetic order of mute priests, and is said to house thousands of intricately sculpted idols.

Jade Island
A notorious island on the Elder Sea, along the sailing route to the west. Although mariners shun the place, they sometimes land there briefly to fetch fresh water from the nearest stream or spring, being always quick to leave and never venture deep into the island. If the grotesque statues of monstrous warriors carved from great blocks of jade standing vigilantly along the island's perimeter won't deter them, the gigantic clawprints on the beaches and the ferocious roars bellowing from the densely forested interior are a more than sufficient scare. Some sailors who have been forced to linger on the island to wait out a storm speak of hearing the sound of fervent drumming and of spotting eerie lights upon the hilltops.

The Lost City
Deep in the tangled expanse of the Hungry Forest, dilapidated ruins of a once monumental city lay about, half-submerged in a rank swampland. Although dappled with moss and strangled by vines, a multitude of ornate stone columns and statuary testify to the wealth and sublime craftmanship of this bygone civilization. Nothing is known of the people who built this place, or even if they were of mankind to begin with. It is a major ordeal just to locate the Lost City, as there are no paths or landmarks leading there through the jungle, and the foliage camouflages the ruins from the eyes of those flying above. Bands of treasure hunters have ventured into the forest with intention of scouring the site for valuable relics, but none are known to have returned.
[spoiler][/spoiler]
The Silent Grotto
This cave, located on the shore of the Elder Sea, is a place held sacred by the Horned Viper Tribe. So holy it is that sound cannot be heard within it. The illusory limits between the phenomenal world and Pandemonium wane in the grotto so that even ordinary people may see glimpses to the other side. Many tribesmen make pilgrimages to the site, but they are wary of entering the cave.

The Spiral Pit
A great pit yawns wide open on the ground, like the maw of some colossal beast, between the central plain and the Bonelands. This enormous chasm spans over a league across and plummets down to unknown depths that go on deeper than sunlight can reveal. Some think that it may even reach down to the primeval sea that is Abyss. The sides of the cavity form a broad spiral ledge that coils downward in a clockwise spin. This ledge is quite rough and uneven, varying in it's breadth and steepness. Grass, vines, shrubs and even small gnarled trees grow out of it's rocky surface. This vegetation gradually gives way to a verdancy of lichen and fungi, and eventually to bizzarre unknown flora as one descends. The cliff walls are punctured all over by entrance holes to myriad subterranean tunnels that wind and twist and coil around the pit, sometimes connecting to spacious caverns. Strange beasts lurk in these hollow spaces, and aberrant flying creatures build nests on outcroppings.

There is an eldritch distortion that subverts the very laws of distance and direction, warping the space within the pit. Where each revolution of the spiral should funnel the walls closer, shortening the gap across to the opposite side, no such thing apparently happens. No matter how deep one descends, the span of the spiral and the length of a round trip along it remain the same.

Temple of the Blue Lotus
Flowers of the blue lotus plant are the source of an important drug used in many religious rituals and some feats of sorcery. They are also symbols of wisdom and vitality. These magnificent plants that grow in pools of fresh water are said to be descended from a fabled ur-flower, the very first blue lotus which blossomed at the dawn of the universe. That original specimen, pretenaturally large and beautiful, is nursed in an enchanted garden in a serene valley through which the Dreaming River flows. A large temple with marble walls and golden roof encloses the garden, itself surrounded by a sacred grove.

By ancient taboos common to all the civilized tribes of the country, this sanctuary is exempt from all manner of violent disturbance. It's eternal peace is guaranteed by a brotherhood of tattooed warrior-priests. The temple is independent from the nearby earthbound kingdoms and wields significant amount of political power. It maintains its prosperity by imposing a religious tax upon villages within it's sphere of influence. Pilgrims arrive from far and wide to revere the original blue lotus, bearing offerings that likewise help support the temple. A great volume of lore has accumulated in the Temple of the Blue Lotus over the ages, gathered from the multitude of visiting mystics and scholars.

The Seven Pyramids
These pyramids stand in a hexagonal formation on the central plain, with the tallest pyramid in the centre and the other six on evenly distanced points around it. They are oriented according to geomantic and astrological lore, creating a liminal space where the celestial bodies of heaven are in harmony with the mundane axes of earth. The outer pyramids contain enclosed tombs of six legendary paragon masters, buried in golden sarcophagi with troves of powerful artifacts. Their burial chambers are sealed behind massive stone doors and protected by powerful curses.

The seventh pyramid, however, does not house a cadaver. It's vaulted chamber contains an unknown menace, the identity of which was struck from records and forgotten after the passing of the six masters. The central pyramid is bolstered with defenses and curses even more potent than the rest, but these were not intended to prevent tomb robbers from entering -- they were designed to keep something from escaping.

The Black Oasis
A large oasis in the High Desert and the principal watering hole along the caravan routes that cross it. The water of this oasis looks disturbingly dark and murky, and has a slightly bitter taste to it. It apparently is safe to drink though -- and also doubles as liquid food. It fends off starvation, but leaves the feeling of hunger. Drinking your fill of the black water is enough to stand for three hearty meals, but no matter how much of it you intake you find that you're still hungry.

A small cluster of huts and a shrine to the tentacled god that dwells in the spring account for the permanent inhabitation. Desert nomads arrive to setup camp by the oasis from time to time, temporarily erecting a sizeable village of tents there. There is no rule of law in the Black Oasis, but ancestral customs of hospitality are ironbound.
[spoiler][/spoiler]
[/spoiler]

[LoA]

Valley of Three-Legged Men
The inhabitants of this secluded valley are very odd people. They dwell in circular huts that are buried into the ground, such that only their conical roofs are visible. They refuse to touch metal with bare hands, believing it to be holy. Their males are born with three legs instead of two, and run as fast as the flightless ranga-birds they hunt. The valley is blessed with rich pastures of abundant game, but it is also plagued with frequent flights of massive gadfly swarms.

My inner Ripley's kid is kicking in. I need to know how that works anatomically.

[Ghostman]

Some things are better left for imagination.