In the shimmering stillness of an azure dusk, the Reflection Pool lies placid—its mirrored surface holding the secrets of lands unfathomable, where a cartographer's quill yields to nothing but the ethereal winds.
As I spread parchment over the unfurling fog of dawn, a kingdom of verdant whispers, Élanthéa, dances into view. Here, meadows bask in symphonies of wildflowers under the gentle breath of Aetheria's breath and brooks weave silver whispers through the tapestry of trees.
Further south lies the sunlit empire of Luceborough, where golden sands meet cerulean waves, cradling secrets beneath their shimmering embrace. The towers of its harbors glimmer like forlorn lighthouses, guiding adventurers to realms both familiar and forgotten.
To the east, the mist-wreathed Duskwarden Citadel rises, formidable and ancient. Its stone faces watch over the encroaching night, where the moonlight caresses its battlements like a lover's touch, imparting stories of legendary quests and elusive phantoms drifting through its shadowed halls.
Venture deeper into the heart of the mire, and perhaps you shall hear the whispers of undiscovered lands, like Draped Whispers, reverberating in the desolate wind, or perhaps the scholarly tomes left indifferent on dusty shelves in Old Views.