Lasting how long?
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The WorldLathonushul, "The Mythical Realm"
In all its glory:
Straddled by two sets of mountains, the four civilisations fight desparately to control the broad-lake-filled central area, while goblins and hellish ice and mountains lurk to the North, the land to the South is hot, almost arid in some places, full of large if not sprawling empires, controlling large tracts of land, with huge rivers. Many civilisations are squirreled away to the East, enclosed by huge mountain ranges, while to the West, the dwarven strongholds look out stormily on the swamps, jungles and wastelands inhabited by humans, elves, and weak and spindly Goblin provinces. The mirror-seas of oiling contain the Land of Thunder, complete with the mysterious cave of Egenust Mudobsuru, from where all agree mighty stormclouds come rolling. The world is stifled, hot with the passion of grand, angry empires competing, and humid with the twin enclosing seas, one boiling, one frozen and icy, while deep in the Quiescent hills, a cancerous part of a small human culture surrounded by goblins and elves and obsessed with tombs, a lone tower lurks, guarded by a mighty Dark Fortress daring not to near it, with some weaker pits controlled by the hostile elves nearby, and others massacred and empty as strongmen of two empires fight for the final uncanny power of a third.
In short, it is a festering world, longing for the sweet, cool, black water of death to flow over its mountainous brow, and the teeming souls to be let loose upon their upwards journeys.
The spirits of this world, not elven forces or heathen, human gods, but far stranger and closer beings to the minds of petty-empire builders have conspired to put such a being on this earth that the deep seismic wishes of the realm may be fufilled.
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Starting adventurer now. Human it probably is, as we are.