In the mist-choked reaches of Eastern Darkwater, the Testudine Kingdom endures, a realm of armored turtle-folk whose heavy shells and heavier traditions make them as immovable as the stone they build upon. Clad in lacquered plate and bearing spears older than the oaks, these stoic warriors patrol the murky waterways and winding paths of the swamp, their watchful eyes rarely missing the ripple of an oar or the bend of a reed.
Though not sworn enemies of the furred folk of Netherwood, the Testudines regard their neighbors with a blend of wariness and weary contempt, convinced that only vigilance prevents intrusion.
At the heart of their dominion looms the Drowned Bastion, a colossal fortress carved into the jagged cliffs above the swamp, its flooded halls and moss-slick battlements a grim testament to centuries of defense. From its shadowed keep, the Testudine King surveys his misted lands, a silent sentinel ruling a kingdom where every stone and tide answers to his will.
In the mist-choked reaches of Eastern Darkwater, the Testudine Kingdom endures, a realm of armored turtle-folk whose heavy shells and heavier traditions make them as immovable as the stone they build upon.
Clad in lacquered plate and bearing spears older than the oaks, these stoic warriors patrol the murky waterways and winding paths of the swamp, their watchful eyes rarely missing the ripple of an oar or the bend of a reed.
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