{US} Iron Haven Medieval

Ashenmoor Isle

"Where the mountain breathes fire and the King breathes wrath."

Born from the fury

of the deep earth, Ashenmoor Isle rises from black waters like a wound that never healed. Its volcan

ic spine bleeds ash into skies the colour of old bruises, and the soil — dark, fertile with ruin — h

as swallowed the bones of countless men foolish enough to land upon its shores.

King Valdur the Uny

ielding holds dominion here. A scarred sovereign who sits upon a throne of cooled obsidian and count

s his worth in the skulls of those who dared defy him. Cross him and his wardens will run you to the

cliffside — where the sea offers no mercy and the fall offers no mercy either. Pay your tribute. Be

nd your knee. Or bleed into his land like all the rest.But the King is not the island's only soverei

gn.

When the last fires dim and the ash-cloud swallows the moon, something else walks the broken ro

ads between the ruins. The Dead. They do not remember why they hunger, only that they do. Travellers

who fled Valdur's wrath only to find a worse end

Do not let them touch you.

The infection spread

s like embers on wind. A bite, a scratch — a moment's carelessness — and you will feel the warmth le

ave you.By dawn you will walk with them

The living are outnumbered. The dead multiply.

The King f

orgives nothing.

The island forgets no one.

Welcome to Ashenmoor