A millennium of written history tells us that Samentia should be the only continent of Elandria. However many have fallen into belief of the ancient oral tales told by ancient peoples. They whisper of hidden lands beyond the dense fogs of the ocean borders. In places no one has sailed, and no eyes have dreamed. Perhaps there IS more, perhaps we will find out. Though it is unlikely, the people are too focused on their borders and selfish ambitions.

In the north, a lineage of human kings lay claim to vast ranges of free land, ripe for farming. A colony of reintegrated Dark Elves has been accepted, though with some resistance from the people, into this kingdom of Ragenma. The land is full of vicious nobles, vying for power over each other in subterfuge, biting at scraps of land from each other getting a foothold in whatever ways they can. King Larren Osomi XI rules from the capitol of Entoby on the BlueFlow straight.

Directly across the waters in the southwestern forests of Corresta an ancient people of elves thrives among the trees. Once enslaved to hoards of orcish masters in the jungles of Alyria, they broke free ages ago and have since established a home in the trees of Corresta. A council of elvish lords lead the country with generational honor, dignity, and respect. Every 100 years a ceremony is conducted to elect a young man or woman to the council where they will spend their lifetime together dictating everything which happens.

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In the deserts of Alyria to the east of Corresta, the strong and rich survive. There is no official form of government here, the lawless wastes consume most of everything which travels through it. Tribes of orcs, remnants of an ancient empire, raid anything which dares to make a permanent home here, so instead one massive caravan, miles long built atop the backs of massive sauropods travel constantly through the deserts trading at the borders of the country. Atop the caravans ruthless business giants plot to overthrow each other with undercuts and trading scandals. Raw power means nothing here, only gold speaks. The richest few decide where the caravan goes, who can sell, who can buy, and who survives on the waves of sand and rock.

Threats loom at every corner of Samentia, drug trade threatens to topple cities from the inside the continent over. A figure in the dark sows seeds of deceipt in the halls of Corresta creating discord and question in the leadership of the elders. Nobles to the north seek to slit the throats of the dark elves as well as the king who allowed their "filth" among the civilized people. A new religion grows fast adding daily to its number making many question its purpose. And new whispers arise, claiming to see shadows in the mists at the edge of the sea.