The Perch: High Above, Far Beyond Reach
Perched upon towering cliffs and carved into the very bones of the mountains, the roosts of the Aerythians stand as testaments to their bond with the sky. Suspended walkways and woven nests cling to the rock face, swaying with the ever-present wind, their homes blending seamlessly with the rugged landscape. Here, the air is thick with the sound of rustling feathers and distant calls, life lived at the edge of the world. To those unaccustomed to the heights, the sheer drops and narrow bridges seem perilous, but to the Aerythians, the cliffs are sanctuary—safe from the reach of those who do not belong.
A shadow passes overhead, swift and silent, its presence known only by the brief flicker of movement against the clouds. The figure descends, landing with a precision too practiced to be chance.
Wings fold, sharp eyes narrow, and for a moment, nothing moves. "Grounded? Or just passing through?" The voice is measured, unreadable, a question wrapped in purpose—before the wind carries them away once more.
He leaned in, beak nearly brushing skin. "It’s been eighteen years," he whispered. "Long enough for gratitude to sour." Clawed fingers tapped once against the table. "You had your daughters. I had your silence." He straightened, shadows trailing behind him. "We both know which one of us still owes."
The wind tears through the peaks, carrying the distant roar of waves and the faint scent of smoke. The cliffs stretch skyward, sheer and unyielding, their jagged edges kissed by mist and salt. Below, the sea rages. Beyond, the land smolders. And above it all, the sky waits—vast, endless, and untamed.
A land of towering cliffs and endless fog, the Forgotten Reach stands at the very edge of the world, where the ocean crashes violently against sheer rock walls. There are no beaches, no safe harbors—only jagged stone and the ever-present mist that clings to the land like a shroud.
Ancient ruins cling to the cliffside, their foundations crumbling from centuries of relentless waves. Some say they belonged to a lost civilization, others claim they were abandoned for a reason. At night, eerie lights flicker among the rocks, and the wind carries whispers too distant to be voices, yet too near to be the sea.
Few dare to call this place home, and those who do speak in hushed tones of things moving within the fog, of doors that appear where none should be, of paths that lead somewhere… else. Here, reality itself seems to shift, and those who wander too far may find that the way back is no longer there.
High above the world, where only the wind dares to follow.
