u/Retroman1801

I.e: lore, species, magic, other continents, ect

Flight high dude 🥀❤️😔

I finally got this done, I had like 3 other variants that were so ahh 😭😭

Ask me questions about anything about the map and I'll try my best to answer them! :) (e.g: kingdoms, historical events, wars, ect...)

The Lyrar are among the youngest but the most mysterious of the mortal peoples of Nythrandur, appearing after the arrival of the Easteri, their true origins hidden even from the ancient archives of the Elsärinè and the memory of the eldest Dràkaì.

Unlike the dragons, elves and dwarves, who were openly shaped during the First Dawn by the Nythúndun, the Lyrar were created in secrecy by the Nythúndun Myrravhael, the Keeper of the Veiled Moon, a celestial guardian tasked with preserving the forgotten paths between the mortal world and the unseen realms.

Myrravhael believed that creation required not only those who would build, rule or remember, but those who would wander, observe and protect what others overlooked.

From the shadows beneath the ancient forests and the silver light of the first moons, Myrravhael formed the Lyrar — a people born with the instincts of beasts and the curiosity of mortals.

Their bodies were shaped to resemble the grace and awareness of the lynx, possessing sharp senses, silent movements and a deep connection to the natural world, yet their minds carried the intelligence, creativity and emotions of the elder races.

The first Lyrar awakened beneath the forgotten valleys of Aeledath, speaking the ancient moon dialect, a language said to have existed before Elsìri and Draven, formed from whispers between the stars and the world itself.

They became guardians of hidden places, ancient ruins and forgotten knowledge, rarely seeking kingdoms or glory.

Unlike the elves, who preserved the beauty of the world, or the dragons, who witnessed its endless ages, the Lyrar existed to walk between worlds — never fully belonging to civilisation or wilderness.

Their most sacred ability, the transformation into their primal form, was gifted by Myrravhael as a reminder of their dual nature: the balance between reason and instinct.

In this form, a Lyrar becomes a towering shadow-like creature resembling a great feral lynx, standing as large as a bear, with glowing orange eyes that burn like embers beneath the darkness.

Ancient legends claim this form is not a beast they become, but the shape their souls take when they release all restraint.

Among the races, the Lyrar are sometimes called “The Moonbound” or “The Forgotten Children”, though many Lyrar reject the latter title, believing they were never forgotten — only waiting.

Their oldest teachings claim that Myrravhael did not create them to inherit the world, but to ensure that no secret, no memory, and no lost voice would ever truly disappear.

Even the Nythúndun themselves are said to respect the Lyrar, for they carry fragments of the ancient moonlight that existed before the first mortal kingdoms rose.

The Humans, known in the oldest elven chronicles as the Easteri—"Those Who Came From the Dawn" in the ancient tongue of Elsìri—were the second to the last of the great mortal peoples to arrive in Aeledath.

Around 75,000 BCR, long after the elves had awakened beneath the silver canopies of Gha'amar and the dwarves had carved the first halls beneath BlackRock, strange ships emerged from the eastern horizon, carrying weary families migrating a forgotten homeland beyond the sea.

Leading these ships were three brothers:

Kintar, Kachar and Kamar Greyhall.

Unlike the elder races, the Easteri possessed no ancient forests, mountain kingdoms, or divine inheritance; their greatest gift was their remarkable adaptability.

Within only a few generations they learned the languages of their neighbors, traded with the dwarven clans, and forged friendships with the Dravian elves, who first bestowed upon them the name Easteri.

Their settlements grew into villages, villages into towns, and eventually into the great kingdoms of Hèrinsbour and the city of Kentoris under the Kings of Yonder.

Though their lives were fleeting beside the centuries of the elves and dwarves, humans became renowned for their ambition, resilience, and ability to unite peoples who had long remained divided.

Many priests believe this restless spirit was no accident, teaching that Osorogath granted humanity shorter lives so they would cherish every sunrise, forever striving toward a future they knew they might never see.

The Dwarves/Groundtugs, Orcs, Trolls, and Goblins are collectively remembered within the oldest surviving scriptures as the Children of the sparks, four kindred peoples fashioned by the Nythúndun Khordrath, the Eternal blacksmith, whose purpose was to shape not the forests nor the skies, but the bones of Nythrandur itself. Where Aeltharion breathed life into harmony and Thrëmdàrsìn forged majesty, Khordrath embodied endurance, perseverance and the relentless strength required to survive within the harshest corners of creation. From his hands rose the mountains, caverns and deep places of the world, and from those same halls emerged his four children, each reflecting a different face of stone. Though countless wars have since divided them, ancient records insist they were once a single people who lived beside one another before history and hatred drove them apart.

The eldest among them were the Groundtugs, known in the modern age simply as Dwarfs, Awakened beneath the mountains of the north-westerm mountain range of Aeledath known in the future as the Yulow Mountain range, they first gathered as the BlackRock Tribe, believing every mountain to be a sacred pillar holding the heavens aloft. Broad of shoulder and unmatched in resilience, the dwarves possess remarkable longevity, with many living well beyond four centuries and the greatest smiths surviving long enough to forge weapons for generations of the same royal bloodline. Their language, Draven, carries the deep, resonant cadence of hammer upon anvil, and their mastery of stonecraft remains unrivalled. They alone discovered the secrets of Dryphite, the legendary silver-alloy from which the Dwarfish armour and blades in Aeledath have been forged. To the dwarves, craftsmanship is a sacred act of remembrance, for every strike of the hammer honours Khordrath’s first shaping of the mountains. They believe a poorly forged blade is not merely a flawed weapon, but an insult to creation itself.

From the same divine beginning came the Orcs, whom Khordrath shaped as living embodiments of relentless endurance, savage strength and the unforgiving brutality of the wild places of Aeledath. Larger and broader than most humans, Orcs possess powerful physiques built for ceaseless labour and war, capable of enduring wounds, hunger and hardship that would break lesser races. Fiercely tribal by nature, they respect only strength, cunning and the authority of those capable of taking and holding it. Orc society is one of constant rivalry, where chieftains rise through violence and are expected to defend their place with equal ruthlessness. Though capable of remarkable discipline beneath a powerful warlord, they are equally prone to infighting, grudges and bitter quarrels whenever such authority falters. Their settlements are crude but formidable, built more for defence and conquest than beauty, while their blacksmiths produce weapons and armour in staggering numbers, favouring function and intimidation over elegance. Orcs possess little patience for scholarship or artistry, yet they display a cruel ingenuity in siegecraft, weapon-making and the engines of war, often twisting even the finest crafts into instruments of destruction. Across history, countless clans willingly bent the knee to tyrants such as Lord Zaúlrock, drawn by promises of conquest and plunder, and under his command became the backbone of the Khuran war hosts that ravaged Aeledath. Among the mortals, the march of an Orc horde is remembered not for its discipline alone, but for the deafening roar of its war chants, the smoke of its forges, and the certainty that mercy seldom follows in its wake.

The Trolls were shaped as the greatest physical guardians of Khordrath’s children. Larger than any other mortal race, some towering over twice the height of a man, Trolls possess immense natural strength capable of moving boulders that would require entire teams of horses to shift. Their thick stone-like skin hardens with age until elder Trolls appear almost carved from living granite, while many mountain-dwelling bloodlines develop moss, lichen or crystal growths across their bodies, making them nearly indistinguishable from the cliffs they call home. Though large, Trolls are often noted to be the most dimwitted and dumbest of all the mortal races, mostly residing in woodland areas around Kentoris or choosing to just camp out in the open-

Smallest among Khordrath’s children were the Goblins, fashioned not for brute strength but for ingenuity, adaptability and endless curiosity. Where the Groundtugs mastered the forge, Goblins mastered invention. Possessing nimble hands, keen eyesight and restless minds, they became ingenious engineers, trappers and alchemists whose devices often bordered upon reckless brilliance. Goblin settlements were renowned for elaborate tunnel networks filled with intricate mechanisms, hidden passages and ingenious contraptions understood only by their creators. Their quick wits and mischievous humour earned them an undeserved reputation for dishonesty among other races, though Goblins themselves insist that “there is no difference between a prank and a lesson—except whether the victim learns.” Their comparatively short lifespans encourage them to pursue discovery relentlessly, believing every unanswered question to be a challenge left by Khordrath Himself.

The Elsärinè, known simply as Elves in the modern era, are the second eldest of the mortal races, awakened beneath the ancient forests of Aeledath by the Nythúndun Aeltharion, the Verdant Shaper, who shaped them as living embodiments of harmony, wisdom and the enduring beauty of the natural world.

Unlike the Dràkai, who were created to witness the vastness and fury of creation, the Elves were created to understand it, carrying within their souls a connection to the forests, rivers, stars and unseen forces of magic that flow throughout Nythrandur.

Their earliest memories begin beneath the roots of Gha’amar, where the first elves opened their eyes beneath silver leaves and moonlit branches, becoming the ancestors of the Dravian Tribe named after Dravialan the Elder, the first great leader of their people.

Possessing immense lifespans that can stretch across thousands of years, the Elves are keepers of ancient knowledge, with some elders remembering events that occurred before human civilisation had even reached Aeledath.

Their language, Elsìri, is among the oldest spoken tongues in existence, second only to the ancient moon dialect of the Lyrar and the divine language of creation spoken by the Nythúndun.

Their graceful forms vary greatly among different elven bloodlines, yet all share the defining traits of their people: slender builds, pointed ears capable of hearing the faintest whispers of the natural world, luminous eyes that often reflect the colours of their homeland, and an innate sensitivity to magic.

Many elves possess a natural affinity for spellcraft, particularly magic involving nature, healing, illusions and the manipulation of ancient energies left behind by the First Dawn. Unlike younger races who often view time as something to conquer, the Elves see time as something to experience, believing that every tree, mountain and river carries a memory waiting to be discovered.

Ps, does anyone know what that says in picture 2?

The Dràkaì, known simply as Dragons by the Easteri (ancient humans), are the eldest of all mortal creations, fashioned in the First Dawn by the Nythúndun (basically angels) Thrëmdàrsìn, the Celestial Architect, who shaped them as living embodiments of the world's untamed majesty before the younger races had even dreamed. Possessing immense intellect, dragons are capable of mastering numerous languages—including Vyrmspeech, the ancient tongue from which all dragon dialects descend—and many elder wyrms speak Elsìri (elf speech), Draven (dwarf speech), and Westarish (human speech) with remarkable eloquence.

Though often mistaken for beasts, the Dràkaì possess memories that can span tens of thousands of years, making even the youngest dragon older than entire human dynasties.

Their powerful physiques vary greatly in colour and form, yet all share immense wings, scale-armoured bodies, horned crowns, and an elemental breath gifted by Thrëmdàrsìn, most commonly fire, though rarer lineages command frost, storms, venom or celestial flame.

Dragons rarely gather in great numbers, preferring solitary territories that may encompass entire mountain ranges or coastlines, where they guard ancient knowledge rather than mere treasure. Throughout Aeledath's history they have been revered as omens of destiny: some, like Ghideon, became protectors whose wisdom rivalled that of kings, while others, such as Ghor'amar, surrendered to pride and sought dominion over lesser peoples.

This duality is considered the greatest lesson of the Dràkaì—that immense power magnifies the soul rather than defines it.

Many temples teach that dragons were never created to rule the world, but to witness it, serving as living reminders that the designs of Osorogath (god) and His Nythúndun extend far beyond the lifetimes of any mortal race.

Behold: Aeledath, the western most continent of my world map, and where most of the main stories take place, this could be the final version of the map, I'm still deciding on a few things to add or not, I would love feedback if you have some, thank you.

So, first continent map I've made and posted, this is a first for me, it's one of 7 continents that I do have planned, but this is where most of the main story takes place.... So- got nothing else to write so here's some lore drop

Before Time — The Age of the First Coil 100,000 BCR

Before stars illuminated the heavens or mountains pierced the skies, only Osorogath, the Peaceful Creator drifted through the endless void, appearing as an immense celestial white serpent whose body shimmered like flowing moonlight, Osorogath coiled around nothingness seven times.

Each coil became one of the seven continents

Every scale became a star.

Every breath became the seas.

Every heartbeat became time itself.

Finally, Osorogath breathed life into The Plane, an eternal paradise where noble souls would rest after death.

Before vanishing into creation, the Creator whispered:

"ρꪮ᭙ꫀ᥅ ꫀ᥊꠸ᦓꪻᦓ ꪻꪮ ρ᥅ꪮꪻꫀᥴꪻ. ꪻꫝꫀ ᦔꪖꪗ ꠸ꪻ ᦓꫀꫀᛕᦓ ꪻꪮ ᥅ꪊꪶꫀ ꪖꪶꪮꪀꫀ, ᦔꪖ᥅ᛕꪀꫀᦓᦓ ᦓꫝꪖꪶꪶ ꪖ᭙ꪖᛕꫀꪀ..."

Power exists to protect. The day it seeks to rule alone, darkness shall awaken.

The prophecy would sleep for millennia.