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The below map consists of a majority of the known world of Atalav.
It is a relatively peaceful world where nature has reclaimed the land and is rebuilding itself along with the help of its intelligent inhabitant.
The Antler Islands are a collection of small islands, dubbed as the origin location of Merfauns. While Aquafaunidae thrive in the waterways, the islands lack any well-developed civilization and are a mystery to most inland faunids. However, the Salmon Coast boasts a lovely self-sufficient village with a culture rooted in its natural resources. Faunids here focus on sustaining their lifestyle and shipping goods, and are known to welcome any strangers that come to visit as a getaway.
The Cervale Rainforest is difficult to traverse even under the most ideal of conditions. With a thick canopy and a lush forest floor, the landscape is marked by winding roots sprouting strange crystals that reflect godrays. Even as far away as Lavandul, an unusual green radiance can be seen, emanating from a tree deep within the forest’s heart. Extremely dangerous, venomous animals and deadly adversaries aren’t the only harrowing encounter one may find. The few who willingly stay within the forest tend to die of mysterious causes. Is it Herne’s negative energy concentrated within the biome?
The largest area of grasslands in Atalav may be barren on the surface, a prairie forged by extreme winds, but life teems here against the odds. Even so, the rare tree that manages to take root upon the plains can easily find itself uprooted; shelters must be low to the ground and angled to rebuff the winds. The faunids who brave the plains are researchers, travelers, storytellers, and mythweavers, often interested in the abundance of Blissen-dated artifacts. History breathes upon these plains, and the satiation of good story and song makes up for the lack of water and fertile soil.
The dictatorship of Ghosgate is run by Fenris, the proclaimed god of the ashen ruins. Bordering Hernlak, Ghosgate lives in the shadow of rotten, ruinous buildings, barren trees growing through them like a parasitic harbinger. The population fluctuates rapidly, but one constant remains on the census: every inhabitant of Ghosgate is a Corrupt. Murder is a commodity amongst the violent and lawless ruins, and greed is as prevalent as hunger. No pure faunid walks into the dead forest untouched.
The city of Hernlak is speculated to be the birthplace of modern faunids. Herne was said to have stepped forth from the massive conjoined trees in the middle of the lake, blessing faunids into their present talents. Civilization expanded at an extraordinary rate in the subsequent population boom; Metal manipulation, fur handling, farming, and other societal necessities were born and perfected here. While not known for specific trades, Hernlak is deeply respected for its spiritual connections and respected X schooling. Additionally, a mentoring system for battle-hardened guards and protectors is reinforced due to the onslaught of neighboring corrupted faunids.
According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. Barry! Breakfast is ready! Coming! Hang on a second. Hello? - Barry? - Adam? - Can you believe this is happening? - I can't. I'll pick you up. Looking sharp. Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those.
If a faun has received any lavender, it is almost guaranteed to have originated from Lavandul. Perfecting the art of growing crops and specializing in herbs, the town’s agricultural backbone has coincided with a higher than average companion rate with animals such as canines and hoofstock. Rustic in its lifestyle, an item is only made to serve its purpose; time spent decorating a hoe is time that could be spent making a scythe. The large population of non-faunid companions has led to an annual infestation of Lapines that feast on the greenery. Occasionally, they may as for outside help…
This secluded but highly developed island utilizes X usage for its day-to-day functionality. Outsiders are looked down upon; Makino discourages them from entering the city. Civilians are extremely protective of the environment, and secrets litter every nook and cranny. Lace and silks, and ornate jewelry and adornments feature as the city’s exports into the rest of Atalav. The crowning jewel, however, is the iconic pink sakura-esque trees and pink crystals that make up the Rosen Forest and its dense foliage. Glowing spirits dance between branches in endless glee each year as they await the annual Fawning.
Sorry. I'm excited. Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. A perfect report card, all B's. Very proud. Ma! I got a thing going here. - You got lint on your fuzz. - Ow! That's me! - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye! Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! - Hey, Adam. - Hey, Barry. - Is that fuzz gel? - A little. Special day, graduation. Never thought I'd make it. Three days grade school, three days high school. Those were awkward. Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive.
Just as vile and toxic as the rainforest that borders it, the swamp-ridden ruins of Necmir are a minor hotspot for corruption activity. The neglected ruins that scatter the knee-deep waters have long been abandoned for greener pastures. Less than half of the population compared to the corruption capital, Ghosgate, there is little threat to surrounding civilians. Corrupted faunids have found more reliable food sources from practicing the act of netting fish. If nothing else, the comfortably fed, meat-eating artiodactyla that populate Necmir prove that ‘corruption’ is not synonymous with ‘war against god.’
The Split Mountains are a secluded and secretive location. The Minodate and their most trusted allies are the only keepers of its location. One of the most prolific regions,– rain, snow, or shine– the inhabitants are constantly improving the quality of the environment. During the summer, the gorgeous colors of native grasses and foods can be seen from across the waters, creating a sight to behold even from afar.
Veritam may not be the cleanest, nor the wealthiest in agriculture, nor does it have responsible leadership, and it might be the alcoholic epicenter of the entire landmass… But… it has personality and a spiritual freedom in spades. Veritam is shielded from the Wildwood by a mountain range that sprawls from the North; a large, impressive tree at the foot of the range, emanating godly power, heralds the epicenter of the town. Veritam may not be perfect, but their agricultural fruit bearing and fermentation processes are second to none.
Bitter winds and frostbite curse the aptly named Cold North. Its company is inedible evergreens and the lost, frozen carcasses of those who came ill-prepared to face its lonely and largely unexplored landscape. The secrets of this forgotten land are hidden beneath permafrost, the only faunids daring to visit doing so for cold-hardy relatives, or to connect to Herne in a pilgrimage. The villagers of Vinnde are incredibly strong and well-built, consisting of thick-skinned caribou, moose, and elk. Vinnde contains no exports, and many faunids believe the town exists purely out of sheer determination of will.
Dark, thick forest, freezing rapids, and aggressive inhabitants are the majority of what Wildwood has to offer. Abandoned cabins are interspersed between the scarce population, and between the rare hallmarks of civilization, the Woods remain largely unexplored. Whispers of curses and malevolent auras are rumored to protect the secrets that lay within the forest. Unspoken laws rule the population, but most native-born townfolk consider the Wildwood a lawless land. The only immigrants to the area tend to be those not cut out for Vinnde’s harsh conditions, or Hernlak’s citizens desiring to connect to their past.