Island Description

An inhospitable land if ever there was one. This vast, dry, mountainous region is a maelstrom of violence and conflict. Constantly waxing and waning with battle raged between 3 wrathful clans for time immemorial (The Broers, the Vella, and the Brallis). The island itself is ringed by an enormous mountain-range and carved into opposing walls lie the strongholds of the clans in question. The land at the foot of these stalwart citadels has become the excuse for their hateful bloodshed. Each garrison boasts a varied access to valued resources which the others severely lack. From livestock, lumber, minerals and the like, these frivolous holdings are used to justify a long forgotten slight between the clans which erupted in loss of life beyond count. In somewhat ludicrous circumstances the castles are not considered rightfully owned by any one clan; as their possessors shift so often that noone has kept any seemingly legitimate claim. When one is conquered either: the remaining survivors of battle return for a rematch, prisoners of war incite an uprising within the walls, or a defeated clan will target the third unsuspecting quarry. While fighting takes place anywhere and everywhere even a punch can be swung, the true heart of the formal bloodshed is a massive crater housed in the island's dead-center known as the 'Red Iris'. This wasteland is decorated by miles of remnant arms and armor and each passing conflict is often shrouded by the recurrent dust-storms. Massive skirmishes are so commonplace,with remorseless foes colliding so often, that the honor of burying the dead is a lost notion. The dead and dying are mercilessly tread underfoot, by frenzied brothers. If the combat was not tragic enough, the island is also regularly plagued by disease. The local traders, in effect, act as 'plaque-rats'. They scour the battle-fields for reusable equipment to sell back to combatants-to-be; the proximity and contact with the rotting predecessors often carrying ailments are then brought back to the mountain-hewn forts to further devastate. With their plethora of grievances, the island bares one cherished secret: the hot springs. Broiling deep beneath the strife, within the cavernous under-world lies a network of soothing, peaceful springs. One of the only safe areas, it remains so only because the clans do not realize that each of them have discovered it. For now, the ravaged islanders find some solace within their divided, subterranean paradise. Mercenaries are always welcome on the island and will be rewarded handsomely if they aid in a clan's victory, however brief that victory may be; thus adventurers are cautioned to keep their stays short and allegiances loose . Much like 3 bickering siblings there is to be no long-lasting peace on the island, for even a dispute in a tavern may escalate to a riot which may ignite the volatile powder-keg that is Omphalos.