Every journey begins somewhere. Homelands opens onto Rhuna in the Tenth Light, with Erevath at its heart: a continent of intertwined realms, living landscapes, ancient legacies, and people building their lives among them.

Begin with Erevath, then explore the habitats, biomes, anomalies, lands, and realms that shape its geography. Chapters on peoples, daily life, transportation, history, and languages bring those places closer, revealing the everyday world a Hero might call home—or encounter for the first time.

Beyond the landscape, discover the institutions and exchanges that connect its communities: councils, alliances, trade, currency, guilds, and shadow markets. Other chapters turn toward divine cycles and living systems, the calendar, Rhunatha, nature, the Threads, and the Wither, tracing the forces that influence both ordinary routines and extraordinary journeys.

Read from the Erevath chapter to find your bearings, or follow a place, custom, or mystery that catches your attention. Whether you are choosing a homeland, planning a journey, or preparing a scene, these chapters offer ways to make the world feel inhabited—and to discover what waits beyond familiar ground.

Rhuna is a fantasy RPG in active development.

Current artwork and lore serve as concept pieces while we build the setting and seek creative collaborators for future publication.

If you are interested, please inquire.

[AI art is placeholder – seeking real artists for collaboration on the final product, please inquire.]

The World of Rhuna — The Tenth Light Copy link

The Tenth Light dawns not with divine war, but with a quiet unraveling. The great celestial battles have ended, yet their wounds linger—scarred across land, sea, and soul. Old powers hide in mortal veins, new lineages rise from forgotten legacies, and in every corner of Rhuna, the Threads that bind reality begin to fray.

Beneath the cold gaze of Rhuna’s silent moon, the world teeters between collapse and renewal. Wither seeps at the edges of wildlands, devouring memory and form alike. In cities and sanctuaries, unseen wars of influence, betrayal, and ambition erode the foundations of Balance. Far below the surface of the world, within rotting paradise-planes and sealed divine scars, Vel’s Syrrh-Ka—seeds of chaotic creation—pulse once more, calling to those bold, foolish, or desperate enough to listen.

This is the age you inherit: an era of silent struggle, contested meaning, and uncertain destiny. Here, mortals and gods alike must choose what story this Light will tell.

IXATHA — The Verdant Tempest Copy link

Ixatha is a land of endless green and sacred storms, the living cradle of Halka’s sorrow, where the Astral’s tears became the oceans. Its jungles are ancient beyond reckoning—layered canopies woven with thunder-vines, luminous spores, and creatures born of storm and tide. Rain falls here with intention, and lightning does not strike at random.

No lasting mortal civilization has ever ruled Ixatha. Those who attempt conquest are swallowed by vine, beast, or flood, while those who learn to listen may survive—changed. Ruins dot the jungle floor, remnants of early Nuhlrin expeditions, Astral sanctuaries, and civilizations erased not by war, but by overreach. Life here is abundant, aggressive, and sacred; growth is both blessing and warning.

Ixatha is said to respond to imbalance. When Threads are misused elsewhere in the world, storms grow fiercer here—as if the land itself remembers the price of divine excess.

MYNKKAR — The Spectre-Lands Copy link

Once whole, Mynkkar now exists as a fractured echo of itself: a drifting archipelago suspended between dust, sea, and memory. Its islands shift with the tides of reality, sometimes vanishing for years before returning altered, eroded, or newly formed. Sailors call it the Spectre-Lands, for nothing there is entirely present—or entirely gone.

Mynkkar is haunted by the lingering resonance of Rhuna’s first beings. Not ghosts in the mortal sense, but impressions burned into land and water: half-remembered intentions, unfinished creations, and proto-forms that never fully became. Storms whisper names no one remembers. Shadows move where nothing stands.

Those who travel Mynkkar often return with fractured memories, altered senses, or newfound insight into Threads that no longer exist. It is a place scholars covet, priests fear, and Wither quietly stalks—drawn to the instability like rot to a wound.

TALMASSA — The Veiled Deep Copy link

Above, Talmassa gleams with sunlit sands and placid horizons. Below lies its true heart: a realm of sanctity, silence, and immense age. The people of Talmassa dwell in vast subterranean sanctuaries carved with impossible precision, hidden from the surface world by layered wards, illusions, and deliberate obscurity.

These deep-dwellers are custodians, not rulers. They guard relics, knowledge, and entities deemed too dangerous—or too sacred—for the waking world. Many of their mysteries predate the Threads as mortals understand them, tied instead to primordial harmonies and pre-Astral structures of reality.

To be invited below is rare. To be cast out is final. Talmassa does not forget trespass, nor does it forgive easily. Yet in the Tenth Light, cracks have begun to appear, and whispers suggest that even the deepest sanctums may no longer be fully sealed.

EREVATH — The Living Crucible Copy link

Erevath is the beating heart of mortalkind—the continent where cultures collide, fracture, and evolve. It is here that Astralkin, Vathians, Nuhlrin, Orvah, and countless frontier peoples coexist in uneasy Balance. Cities rise atop older cities; trade routes cross ancient battlegrounds; innovation blooms beside ruin.

This is where the Threads first took mortal form, and where all Threaded life traces its origin. As such, Erevath is perpetually unstable—fertile ground for greatness and catastrophe alike. Guilds, Houses, Orders, and secret factions wage quiet wars beneath the surface of everyday life, while heroes and villains alike are shaped by proximity to power.

In the Tenth Light, Erevath feels the strain most keenly. Wither incursions, political schisms, and divine echoes converge here, making it the likely birthplace of whatever future Rhuna is hurtling toward.

ANKARRA — The World’s Scar Copy link

Ankarra is the wound that never healed. A continent abandoned by gods and reforged by war, it burns with molten rage and unrelenting violence. Ash-choked skies loom over plains of bone and obsidian, where conquest is law and mercy is weakness.

The Exiled Cauls rule Ankarra from their burning thrones—warlords cast out from other lands, hardened by betrayal and sustained by endless conflict. Their empires rise and fall through bloodshed, each seeking to dominate not only Ankarra, but eventually the world beyond it.

Yet Ankarra is more than brutality. It is a proving ground. Power stripped of illusion. Some believe that if Balance ever collapses entirely, Ankarra is what all lands will become. Others whisper that it is here, paradoxically, that true strength—untainted by divine interference—can still be forged.

ELKEND — The Polar Mirrors (North & South) Copy link

At the world’s frozen extremes lies Elkend, Rhuna’s breath made manifest. These polar realms are dark reflections of the world below—sunless mountains, endless ice-fields, and glacial seas lit only by starlight and auroral phenomena.

Elkend is a land of whispers and long silences. Deathless beasts roam its tundras, born of ancient experiments or forgotten divine designs. Slumbering deities and sealed entities are said to rest beneath the ice, preserved in states between waking and oblivion. Time behaves strangely here, stretching, looping, or halting altogether.

It is believed that the first seeds of time itself fell here, closest to the stars. Those who venture into Elkend rarely do so for conquest; they go seeking origins, endings, or truths too dangerous to exist elsewhere.