 The name given to the historical face of the world — an age of iron, stone, and open (if deeply feared) magic. It is a time of crumbling kingdoms, warring free companies, and secretive orders that still remember when the roots of the Umbra first broke the surface. Magic is not hidden here; it is taxed, regulated, worshipped, or hunted depending on the region. The air itself feels heavier, as if the weight of centuries presses down on every stone and every living breath. Night lasts longer. Shadows move with more purpose. The boundary between the living world and the Network is thinner than it will ever be again. Four great places anchor this era: - Blackroot Hollow: the living city grown inside the corpse of an ancient tree, where the Pale Court holds court in halls of whispering wood. - The Ashen Marches: a grey and lifeless borderland of ruined watchtowers and half-buried battlefields, watched over by the Ashen Choir. - Veilspire: the fortress-city that clings like a parasite to a single colossal root rising into the sky, ruled by the Rootbound Magisters. - The Drowned Archive: a half-submerged library of forbidden knowledge where the water never rises and the books refuse to rot. In the Old Shadows, power is measured in bloodlines, relics, and the rare ability to walk the roots without losing pieces of yourself. Kings and churches either try to control the Gates or deny they exist. Most people live and die without ever seeing a true root-path, yet the Network’s influence seeps into every legend, every curse, and every uneasy truce. Those who travel the deeper roots from this era often speak of the New Shadows as a place of glass, noise, and magic that has learned to wear a human face. Few who cross over return unchanged. |
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