Two Veins, One Mountain

Once the proud heartland of dwarven craft and commerce, the Anvils rang with the rhythm of hammers and the low chant of bargains struck. Vascular halls carved down from mountaintop mesas bore witness to pacts made and broken, fortunes gained and lost. The apocalypse shattered the realm and its people alike. All that remains are soulless automata of stone and steel fulfilling mysterious machinations, and something deeper still, scheming with purposes unknown.

Now, the sunken forges and misty plateaus call once again to the Dünir, who walk the halls their ancestors carved and reignite traditions left to smolder. For the Niküa, whose descendants once called these shores home, the Anvils have become a new frontier where rising camps and coastal harbors emerge among old trade routes and echoing traditions. For all who tread here, these steppes promise danger, discovery, and the chance to chisel new stories into ancient stone.

Where Will You Stoke Your Hearth?

It wouldn’t be Verra without the rise and fall of nodes, settlements that grow, evolve, and fall as player-dictated destiny wills them. Across the Anvils, nodes are more than mere outposts; they are living reflections of those who build them, growing from modest encampments to fortified mountain cities or bustling harbors, shaped by craft and commerce.

For those who travel in guilds, the mountains hold an ancient castle node, a prize to be seized and ruled. Guilds that claim the castle will shape the fate of the region, forging alliances and rivalries that fracture the land like cracks through stone.

But these peaks will not yield easily. Like anywhere across Verra, the weather turns wild without warning. Your actions may trigger events when least expected: bandits ambushing trade routes, ancient constructs awakening in the dark, or elemental forces slipping free of their bonds.

Meet The Locals!

While you’ve been gallivanting across the Aelan Empire, the minotaurs have claimed these highlands as their own. They’re not known for their hospitality; territorial, well-armed, and towering over most dwarves, you’ll need to earn the right to tread within the domains of these bovine humanoids.

Yet they’re far from the only threat you’ll encounter. Some speak of ancient automata stirring in abandoned halls, their forms twisted by corruption and long-forgotten oaths broken. Others warn of corrupted constructs and golems, made to serve a master no one dares name. Bandits and exiles stalk the forgotten passes, while darker things slither through tunnels where darkness and shut eyes are one. Should you find yourself in a shifty alehouse, you may also hear whispers of voices in the deep, forges roaring where no flame should burn, and something older and hungrier lurking beneath the peaks.