The Lands of the Romulus Range

You wake on cold stone high in the Romulus Range. Thin air burns your lungs. Wind carries rock dust across permanent snowfields. The peaks rise indifferent above you; the land falls away into rain-shadow valleys, distant river country, open grasslands, and dark forest. You are not from this world. You have no name here, no language that works, no allies, and no special destiny. The mountains do not care why you arrived. Travel is slow, seasonal, and costly. Passes are few. Regions remain culturally and politically distinct: fertile western valleys, windswept northern highlands, open southern plains, dense eastern rainforest. Power stays local. Resources follow the land. Magic, if it exists at all, is rare and expensive. This is a world where the terrain is the true antagonist and the primary source of wonder. Survive the height. Learn the cost of distance. Earn every relationship and every meal against a landscape that does not bend. Grounded. Harsh. Persistent. uses Inner self by lewd leah