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Mistbank
Mistbank is a custom Dungeons and Dragons homebrew world. Based off of 5e D&D rules, this world is set in an era of steam technology. For an organized look, check out the Menu

Braving the mists..
Rain beats down hard on the streets of Calchester, umbrellas and wide brimmed hats protecting it's bustling patrons. The wet streets reflect the city's lights, the corners and building lit by globes of glow stones. The nobles stay dry in carriages, coming back from the theatre or masquerade, the taste of wine and cigarettes on their lips. The working class tilt their heads up towards the rain, letting the filth of the coal wash off of them, even in the day time the cloud is blackened by the smoke stacks and factories. In the slums, the streets are littered with drunks and drug addicts sleeping off their ill fates, while the city guard nervously patrols his beat, hands always resting on their holsters, pistols at the ready. In Calchester, the hammer is always cocked.

A world of technology, and magic. The Steam Age has come to a world of magic. Train tracks have taken over the trade routes, new stations being built constantly, connecting Mistbank like never before. Bolt action rifles and revolvers have become the preferred way for advanced civilization to keep the law within their capital walls. Magical stones called "glow stones" keep the cities light up at night. Astronomers build scopes to see the stars, and on the tops of look out towers to see miles ahead. Factories produce textiles, steel, and iron, pumping their fumes into the air poisoning the earth. And through a miracle of technology and magical prowess the gnomish city of Castella has taken flight, hovering in place above the earth.

The Essence, the Surge, and the Mist. A flow of energy moves through every living thing, and whenever a living thing dies, it's energy is returned to the Essence, and recycled into new life. It could be a tree dying, and it's Essence is shifted back into the flow, and rests into a newborn baby, or a racoon, or new plant life. It is the Essence of all life, an invisible force from normal sight, that rests deep within the planet itself. Some are able to harness and use the trickles of this Essence that they are able to sense. This has become known as the Surge. When a wizard creates a magical flame, that is the surge, when a cleric uses what he believe to be divine healing, that is the surge, and when a druid warps the rocks and roots around her to build a shelter, that is the surge. In between death and life, before the Essence of a living being is returned to the flow, is the Mist. A land of transition where consciousness is abandoned before the Essence of the body is returned. It exists as another plane of existence with a trickle over effect to the material plane. Named for it's vague somewhat blurry grey/green appearance, it's power, similar to the Surge, can also be harnessed by those that are daring and knowledgeable. Living corpses that shamble through ruins or graveyards have been infused with the power of the Mist, those who can magically blink themselves out of sight or teleport, travel through the Mist. And sometimes, if their will is strong enough, a being may return from the Mist, though not the same way they entered...

Danger lurks above and below.. As the gnomish city of Castella took flight, it pulled Essence of the earth nearby quite violently with it. Earthquakes shook the region, deep minerals and crystals from the nearby mountain range were literally pulled towards the surface, and chunks of land and rock now float near the city in a low orbit. The launch site, is a barren circle of ruin. Any life for a mile around slowly decayed as the city drained it's Essence during the launch. There are those that are concerned that using the Surge, is taking directly from the Essence, and cannot be returned once it has been used. Below Mistbank, in the Deep, the Dwarves are fighting a constant battle against a powerful and relentlessly evil subterranean race known as the Varku'un, though the Dwarves have come to call them demons of the deep. They have no eyes, but still they see. They have mouths of razor sharp teeth, but do not utter a sound. They seek the surface, and the fierce military Dwarves are the only thing stopping them.

An ocean of blindess. Surrounding all landmass, mists hang thick. Ship captain's do not dare stray too far from the land, as it gets progressively more and more difficult to navigate, many vessel's set out to explore have not returned, other's returned by luck alone finding nothing. No one knows what lurks beyond more then a few dozen miles off the coast, of any part, of Mistbank.

Nothing is black and white. In this land, every creature has a story. What may seem inherently good, may have some hidden malice hidden behind it. A wizard thought to be inherently evil, might have a sad and tragic story to lend empathy to his or her actions. Simply put, there is no great evil, and no greater good, just ambitions and history that cause a sequence of events, and their resulting reactions. Every creature, city, and ruin tells a story.

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