The towering city-fortresses across the seas to the east is the land of the elves, a race that is pallid skinned, dark haired and gaunt in appearance. This is the first land of the elven race, all other elves descend from this stock.
Countless slaves toil in the mines and quarries of the dead lands and black jungles surrounding these cities, fueling the enormous artisan class that feeds the desires of the many noble houses that rule over the cities, constantly building and decorating the ancient cities with new statues, carvings and monuments to their masters power and to the memory of the dead gods of their former lands.
These nobles in turn send out vast fleets to raid the disorganized southern cities for slaves and plunder, and others to trade with the northern kingdoms for grain and livestock to feed their masses in exchange for the iron and gold that is so rich in their splintered mountains.
Elven armies are feared and famed for their lizard riding heavy cavalry, phalanxes of spearmen and ranks of crossbowmen that darken the skies with bolts. They also hold the alchemical secret of making mithral, the fumes of its forging slowly kills the slaves that work the material and choke the skies above.
Personality: Elves are often thought of by other races as sadistic paranoid tyrants that lead hedonistic lives filled with blood and war. This is somewhat true, the nature of the elven semi-open hierarchy means that only the most brutal and cunning make their way to the top.
The vast artisan class that sits at the bottom rung of the ladder is a much less violent culture, though it’s members still peer over their shoulders for assassins and sniff suspiciously at their food for poison, hoping that the stone carver next door isn’t after their contracts.
Elven Lands: elves live in the Eastern continent, vast, dark jungles sprawl along the coastlines, giving way to blackened wasteland and splintered mountains inland. The cities of the elves are massively tall, as if they where built on the peak of a mountain. Ancient stone buildings, once alabaster white but now blackened from smoke close in the winding narrow streets that are filled with merchants and workers. Almost all of the cities are on the coastline and huge, walled ports have been built around the bases of the cities, filled with ships from all corners of the world. Those cities that lie elsewhere are dead husks, which unknown horrors pace throughout.
Their cities are each ruled separately by a chosen council or single dictator, which constantly change as the members of which often find themselves the target of “accidents”.