The Wardens haven’t ruled for centuries.

After the Great Crisis, the Wardens fell to their lowest. They receded into the deepest depths of our World, and we retook dominion of our continent Iriolan. We crawled out of our mountains, our islands, our forests, our tundra, and we found each other vastly different. And now we crown our Kings, draw our borders, and live.

The Land of Allumtoft, to the Northwest. Frigid tundra, a good portion of it, and what isn’t tundra is inhabited by the Allum. Men, High Elves, and the odd Orc.

To the Northeast, Roubadill. A land of beautiful trees, plains, and hills. The Roubons, mostly Forest Elves, Halflings, and Ents, peaceful people, and wonderful craftsmen.

South of there lies Geaton, my home. Land of the Geaten: Men, Dwarves, and Orcs. But for last, to the Southwest: The Wild. Home to an uncivilized race of wildermen, nomads and beasts wandering the land in need of civilization. That’s what we do: colonize the Wild.

Wardens of Iriolan

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