Your world is dying, and She has an offer you cannot refuse. Recover what She has lost, and She will save what is yours.
Nymh created everything. She watched civilisations rise and fall across the eons, and wanted only one thing she could not make for herself — a family. When her children fled, they nearly killed her. Now, strangers plucked from a dying Earth have been handed the bill.
Many years ago, the world had been a beautiful, thriving place home to a variety of flora and fauna, with bustling continents and towering, snow-tipped mountains; now, the very tops of those mountains have been swallowed in ocean water, wide open plains drowned in salt and floating, decaying debris. Year over year the ocean has taken more and more of what remains of dry land, leaving very few islands at high elevation still untouched.
One of these islands, Allfour, is the largest such island, housing four main colonies of cats and leaving just barely enough room for territory disputes. With the fluctuating elements and terrifying storms that still rage across the world from the imbalance of the planet, the island has somehow become a diverse plot of land separated into four almost-biomes, each one different from the last. One half of the island contains a dry, sweltering and crumbling desert that clashes with the vibrant green of a humid temperate rainforest, while the other half is a wide open, windy grassland plain that shifts into a brown, muddy and chill-soaked replica of a tundra.
Despite the clashing temperatures and four-way-split miniature biomes, life has found a way to persevere, with the colonies present on the island keeping order by maintaining boundaries and finding ways to survive their own unique climates.
As of just three short months ago, however, unease and fear have begun to shake apart brittle alliances and tease formerly confident territory lines; the ocean, originally at a stand still in terms of sea level, has begun to rise once more, and it shows no signs of stopping. The desert biome of the island has been more than half-way engulfed, and the residents have taken to their only remaining option to secure their own safe, dry land....
War.
Aptly named for their personalities and spiteful behavior, the Dryheart colony is found natively to the Sinklands, where they are normally only seen travelling around during the night, when the ground is cool enough to travel upon and what freshwater can be found isn't uncomfortably warm. The colony is made up of several loose sub-colonies, fulfilling their own separate agendas and running completely opposite of each other, only coming together under one leader when called.
No one knows her name, and she is referred to only as "Leader" — those that have seen her describe her to be larger than most other cats, with a very ragged, thick-furred coat, and paws big enough to crush the bones of her enemies beneath her. When she calls, the colony answers - every time. And now, she is calling for only one thing - war, to siphon away territory from the neighboring colonies to gain habitable land for themselves. Any that refuse will be killed — deemed as traitors - or sent swimming into the ocean, away from land until they either drown, or disappear over the horizon.
The Sinklands refer to the largest portions of the island that have already sunk, or are currently still sinking, below the ocean's ever-greedy hold. What still exists above the surface is dry, cracked land, sporting almost no fresh water to be seen, with the orange and brown sun-baked sand hosting a temperature hot enough to burn the paw pads of any cat unfortunate enough to be caught out in the open during the day. On the worst of days, the temperature can easily reach over a hundred degrees, with nights chilling the air to below twenty, a supernatural rise and drop compared to the rest of the island.
This seemingly uninhabitable portion of land is home to an unofficially named colony of cats, given in distaste by the rest of the island and, aptly named, the Dryheart Colony. Refugees, exiles, and those born into the colony are all that remain there - willingly or unwillingly. The cats there are spiteful, restless, haggard and desperate — barren living conditions have sharpened their senses and their fighting skills, making them incredibly dangerous enemies to have.
Landfore is a purely pacifistic colony that refuses to engage in any kind of aggression or physical altercation. They inhabit the richest part of the island in terms of food and resources, and are the hosts of the monthly open-trade gathering event at the Oasis in an effort to share their wealth and avoid confrontation from any side. They are highly advanced in medicine, being the natural healers of the island, and are the most respected colony out of the four that take residency on the island.
Those that attempt to attack or harm them for any reason quickly find themselves invaded on all sides — with how important the colony is to all that live on the island, no other colony would dare allow them to be uprooted. The colony is under the leadership of one cat, Tiritian, a small, scrawny tom with far too much patience for his young age.
A small body of crystal-blue water nestled in the middle of Landfore's territory, beautifully framed by large, overarching trees and foliage. Combat of any kind, even for training or friendly sparring, is strictly prohibited and grounds for immediate removal. Anything can be traded or given away here, as long as it is not capable of harm — accessories, protective wear, medicine, food, and much more.
Riverwood is a relatively small stretch of shaded forest with many intersecting rivers that houses the small community of Landfore. Many different types of medicinal herbs and plants grow here, an abundant resource for the inspiring healers of the colony.
Greenhearth is the largest colony on the island, in terms of both member count as well as territory claim. They house many of the island's quickest and most agile cats, and are therefore the most likely to dine on the most unique and difficult to catch prey. They are well known for their contributions to the island's monthly trade gathering, offering a wide variety of items — from pelts to savory treats, to a plethora of strange items that wash up daily on their side of the island.
Instead of being run by one sole leader, Greenhearth is run by a council of twelve high ranking members, none with more power over the other; they vote on decisions and come to the most popular opinion, leading to a content, peaceful colony, up until the most recent of events.
Massive, wide-open plains of vibrant green grass with strands that reach up to a cat's waist. They sheer off into a cliff leading straight down to a sandy, debris-filled beach, where many different types of items wash up from miles away — drifting off from destroyed and sunken towns, cities, and villages. The most unusual of things have been found to be washed upon the shore, from armor, weapons, and entire tooth-marked skeletons have been found upon the shore.
Rockmoor is the smallest of all the colonies, with the smallest territory — aside from Dryheart - to boot. They are well known for their perseverance and physical prowess, but also for their rock-headed, abrasive nature when it comes to the desert colony and anyone caught sniffing around their borders. They specialize in combat and war, and have found a way to craft armor out of pelts, washed-up items, plants, and bone.
Normally the colony sticks to itself, fiercely defensive of its territory and members, but have been riled up by the Dryheart colony breaching their borders. They are also the colony closest to the Wilds, meaning they deal constantly with unaligned cats stealing from their supplies. The leader of Rockmoor is Diarkis, a steel-minded tom whose only ambition is to secure a place for his colony, and if need be, fight for one.
A mixture of rocky terrain and brown, winter-stirred grass, with many caves for shelter. Heavily shadowed most of the day, providing cover from the sun, and close to the sea for fish and washed-up items. It is the coldest part of the island — some rare days see sleet, and even rarer, snow. Items that wash up here are normally shattered or broken beyond recognition, making for great reusable material in weapons and armor crafting.
The Wilds is an untamed, large expanse of trees and wild underbrush on Allfour that belongs to no one. It houses unallied cats and the more dangerous animals on the island, and is incredibly dangerous to venture into for any reason. Cats that live there tend to prefer a life of solitude and secrecy, while some specifically hold grudges against colonies or find themselves distrustful of their way of life and hold nothing but contempt. In terms of a negative reputation, the Wilds is second only to Dryheart.
Nymh placed powerful souls into every player character — dormant, until the roleplay begins. Feathers have already begun to grow from their shoulders. The abilities below come from Her.
art © Caesar
They fled. They built their own worlds. They nearly killed Her in doing it. Now someone has to bring them back.
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