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The Old World

Ocean

The Great Ocean

The vast and perilous sea dividing the Old World from the New, ruled by storm, monster, and the white-sailed fleets of the High Elves.

Astrographic Chart

Altdorf, Capital of the EmpireAthel Loren, the Enchanted ForestAverheimBarak VarrBechafen, City of the MarshesCouronne, City of the GrailErengradHag Graef, the Dark CragHexoatl, City of the SunItzaKarak Azul, the Hold of IronKarak Eight PeaksKarak KadrinKaraz-a-Karak, the EverpeakKislev, the City of the Ice QueenLothernLustria, the Jungle ContinentMarienburgMiddenheim, the City of the White WolfMousillonNaggarondNaggaroth, the Land of ChillNehekhara, the Land of the DeadNuln, City of Iron and PowderParravon, City of the PeaksPraag, the Scarred CitySkavenblightSylvania, the Cursed ProvinceTalabheimTor Elyr, City of the LagoonsUlthuan, Isle of the High ElvesWolfenburgWurtbad, City of StirlandYvresse, the Misty IsleZhufbar, the Torrent GateZlatlan, the Fallen Temple-City

Chart of The Old World

Between the coasts of the Old World and the distant shores of the New rolls The Great Ocean, an immensity of grey water beneath restless skies. It is a barrier and a road both, the only path between the continents, and a graveyard beyond counting for the ships that dare it. Storms rise without warning, currents drag the unwary onto hidden reefs, and things vast and hungry move in the lightless deeps below.

The waves of the Great Ocean are claimed, as far as any power may claim them, by the High Elf Realms, whose white-sailed warships have patrolled these lanes since the dawn of the world. From their island home at the ocean's heart, the Sea Elves exact tolls and enforce ancient laws upon all who would trade or trespass, and their dragonships are the terror of pirate and raider alike.

Yet even elven vigilance cannot tame so vast a wilderness. Black corsair fleets from the west haunt the shipping lanes, monstrous leviathans surface to shatter hulls, and freak tempests born of unbound magic can swallow whole convoys without a trace. To cross the Great Ocean is to gamble one's life against wind, wave, and worse, and for every ship that makes landfall laden with the wealth of far shores, a dozen more feed the endless, indifferent deep.