Vulsa lies in the east of Vandyrus, a continent of black rock and silver snow where the mountains seem to breathe fire beneath the ice. It is vast, its northern crown large enough to swallow whole nations.
High above the laws of civilization stretch the Fangs of the North, serrated, ice-sharpened ridges that divide the continent’s ruined core from its more habitable south. The ascent through those peaks is lethal: the wind cuts skin like knives, avalanches roar without warning, and the air itself freezes the blood. Wolves dwell in those highlands—taciturn, self-contained, but not cruel—and the few who cross the passes into their domain seldom return unchanged.
Below the Fangs lies Central Vulsa, a land forever broken. When the world buckled in the cataclysm its heart was torn open, and the scars never closed. Whole ranges sank, rivers changed direction, and the earth still breathes steam through its wounds. What was once a broad interior now sinks by degrees into frozen black marshes, fissures of ice, and deep killing snows where the remnants of old kingdoms drown a little more each year. Villages drift southward on rafts of half-frozen mud, while ruined keeps stand like teeth above the mire. Travelers call it the Quiet Belt—the place where even the wind moves slowly, heavy with ash and memory.
South of the wastelands the land softens into the civilized forges of Vulsa, its snow giving way to black volcanic soil and the strange, shimmering craft of the Vulsan smiths. Here stands the last light of their civilization: the twin high forges of Northern and Southern Vulsa, where steel and sorcery are married in flame. The continent’s interior remains wild, much of it unmapped. Ancient craters from the cataclysm pock the landscape, many believed to be sites where sky-metal once fell. Settlements cling to trade rivers or to the smoldering forges themselves, leaving vast tracts of wilderness where only wolves, spirits, and scavenger bands roam.
Culturally, Vulsa sits between ruin and revelation. It is a land that remembers the gods’ wars in its ore and carries both the genius and the madness of creation in its veins. To outsiders it is a kingdom of cold mercenaries and unbreakable metal. To those born beneath its ash-stained skies, it remains the crucible of the world—where craft and sorcery, memory and metal, are one and the same.
Tales of Vulsa
COMING SOON
- The Vulsan Sagas