The land lies in the ancient emerald isles of an other universe. The realities of time and space have bent in a knot here, allowing all that can be imagined to be possible, within the boundaries of the power that contains it. For eons the land has rested, unchanged by the hands of the unknown number of species and races that inhabit its impossible mountains, slopes, valleys, forests, swamps and plains. This high number of conflicting races is what keeps it so; the balance they each keep with the others holds any one race from being absolutely supreme and advanced enough to ruin the face of the land.Natural enough to be greatly unexplored by those who would draw maps, the world holds many mysteries still. In the dense, uninhabitable forests may lie the ruins of some ancient and forbidden civilization, or perhaps one might only find death in the webs of forest spiders. In the ruins, in the dirt, uncountable treasures may lie chambers of immense piles of gold and jewels but be warned; what remains of past treasure hunts must be well-guarded, for it remains undisclosed yet. Imagine, if you will, what keeps them hidden from greedy hands. What monstrous creatures can lie in wait, in the darkest, deepest, most concealed parts of the unknown world? Surely someone has tried to map these places... Why do they remain so blank on paper? Do horrors await, unseen by living flesh? Or is it simply that strange wards make it impossible to approach by certain ways? Explore and discover, if you will dare the unseen.Among the trees, in its corner of the woods bordering a large, unnamed lake of crystal-calm waters and abundant life, the Heart stands at the end of a well-used road that connects to an other well-used road that links the villages around the lake to the more coastal towns and ports. This highway brings merchants and supplies from near and far-off kingdoms, to keep the populace alive in a place where safe farmland is a hard commodity. The roads themselves are dirt, packed hard by centuries of prosperous travel, made by lords and ladies, paupers and harlots, all going about their meandering lives. Though these wagon-rut roads may seem safe enough by the light of shining day, they may be impassable in the dark of claustrophobic night. The balance is maintained, always, by bands of brigands and the things that would eat anything in the wee hours of the moon's domain. Wolves and abominations have often been seen at the edges of towns, but, when the weather becomes bitter through the winter months, those who have not locked their doors have reason to pray indeed.
These towns are simple places, and home to simple people. Superstition is a common faith and whole-wheat bread, sided with spring-water, a common meal. Most of those unfortunate enough to inhabit these towns have had little contact with anything but rumors of the outside world brought to them by the thieving merchants and their hired bodyguard of womanizing miscreants, let alone any proper education. Royalty and riches, heroes and dragons to be slain are myth and legend to them. What is real is the thing that snatches their children from their cribs in the night, the curses that poison their water and the luck of a young, strong man. The power of the land, in all its raging, fickle persona, is God herself.
True, the lake, whose shore lies less than half a mile to the north of the tavern proper, would seem an encouraging factor for advanced settlement, but the forest's powerful presence here has given light to many stories that mothers might tell small children in order to keep them in line with their betters. Truth be told, the area is surely a convergence of some sort; whether of worlds, or way-lines, for other-worldly creatures and men exist, seemingly without heed for the natural laws at all. This both frightens and mystifies the rest of the world, even with the knowledge of great heroes among the shadows. In this land was the Dragon's Heart born, baring all the weight of every child's dreams and fantasies of immortality in the act of impossible heroism or vengeance. Myth and legend abound within. Dream and fantasy surround without. On a dragon's wings, the imagination of thousands are given form. Knowledge of its existence is widely understood, among the lower scales, to be a more secretive place, hidden away in the shadows of the forest where no others would dare set their roots.
