"We Stand United!"
A continent and country, Inis Mona, which in the native language translates as something akin to “Main Island”, is in its 3rd Age by the mortal reckoning of its inhabitants. This 3rd age is called “The Age of Autumn”. Although the spirits, fey and Fwoarian consider the country to be significantly older. This is because most of the mortal races appeared on the island during what most inhabitants refer to as the “Age of Spring” or the coming of the god-heroes collectively referred to as the Ardruids. Exact historical documentation on this event has long been lost to the dust of ages, however the bards and storytellers have managed to perpetuate the legends of the Ardruids arrival and what that precipitated.
The Inis is covered by dark clouds that let almost no light through. The night is impenetrable and filled with horrors both fantastic and mundane. The only truly safe routes are along the Menhir ways; roads warded with sacred standing stones. Cities and towns are Caern-Raths; acropolises with low walls and their own wards. These city-states were once in a constant feudal campaign for resources with the ultimate goal of taking the current capital; Manannan Port. In a modern era though, with the unification of the inisa and the construction of Dòchas Ùr, this has changed and a tenuous peace envelopes the country. It is an era of darkness second only to the The Longest Winter before the Ardruids came. However, some cluster about their hearths seeking safety amid the ruddy glow of embers and say they're always one year away from another Winter.
The regions of Inis Mona are wild, untamed and as varied as the people who inhabit her. For the most part, the known world begins and ends between the sea and the Ardenroot mountains. Travel between these regions is done in varying ways such as by river Carachs, small raft-like boats. Then there's the Menhir Ways; roads lined with standing stones, emblazoned with wards that protect and light the way of travelers. The main region is known as the Autumnlands running between the sea and the mountains east to west, a seconded name from the original capital region which was the Summerlands. Here, there are rolling highlands and grasslands littered with forgotten ruins and ghost-haunted roads, rolling like the sea. There are sparse forests of gnarled trees with thick and treacherous roots filled in with bracken and bramble. Witch-lights pass between the trees and sometimes lead travelers a stray. There are the coastal plains where the horse-masters raise their livestock and fishing villages set to sea where only the Carachlinn, sailors and pirates, may see the sun untarnished by the roiling skies. However, Caern-Raths are few along the shoreline as any fresh town-state is easy prey for Carachlinn rogues. Along the East shore the lands are wild forest lands with large bands of Unseelie, Huldufolk and other things besides prowling the night. There are less Menhirs there and so building a Caern-Rath would be a great deal more troublesome. South of the mountains is the Crescent Bay where Manannan Port, the jewel and default capital lies. A ways south of that is where the river delta empties into the sea and where ferrymen often make for coastal waters and the port city. North of that is the Fwoarian moors. A benighted swampland where strange creatures and harrowing gangs of Unseelie constantly vie for control with the great and terrifying Fwoarian tribes. A place of illness and death where only the strong or cunning survive for long.
Bisecting the continent is the Ardenroot Mountains where the clouds spill from the wound torn into the Mabon atop the Watchtower. The clouds shroud the sun and the mountain peaks. It is said that the mountains are entirely hollow, with the cities and halls of Dustlings running every square mile. So many places long forgotten or unused by that capricious species. The peaks themselves, obfuscated by the clouds, are said to be carved into great Orrery and Observatories where Digir clerics tell the fate of stars.
Off the Western coast is a great swath of ocean covered by a fog that none can pierce. It is said to sail through is to become lost for eternity in the Vault of Dagda. Within, legends say, is an archipelago of islands where Unknown secreted away Unseelie Courts who displeased him and workshops of sacred design. Only with Unknown's help could one safely navigate the Vault and return home.
Lastly, there is the Summerlands north of the Ardenroot mountains. Few have ever strayed that far north, and even fewer return. It is said to be a blasted wasteland, fouled by magic and evil spirits of ash. Those that are driven there are drawn by legends that speak of a lost city; the true capital of Inis Mona and the tombs of the Ardruids themselves.