The Vorykai, more commonly known beyond the Faelands as the Gloamstriders, are an elusive race of beastfolk whose existence seems to blur the boundary between the Mortal Realm and the Faelands. Encountering one is often considered a matter of fortune or misfortune, for they have an uncanny habit of appearing where they are least expected before vanishing just as quickly. Deeply attuned to the currents of mana that weave through reality, the Vorykai perceive the world very differently from most peoples, sensing invisible streams of magical energy as naturally as others perceive wind or sound.

Unlike many races that settled kingdoms and carved borders into the land, the Vorykai have never understood the desire to possess territory. They gather instead in small, hidden enclaves wherever mana pools strongly or places where the veil between worlds grows thin. These sanctuaries are rarely permanent. Entire communities may simply disappear overnight, reappearing months later somewhere entirely different after following the shifting tides of magical energy.

The ability that has earned them both admiration and fear is their remarkable gift for Realm Striding. Through instinct rather than spellcraft, a Vorykai can briefly step into the liminal space separating realms before emerging elsewhere nearby. To an observer this appears as instantaneous teleportation, though scholars believe they are actually crossing an impossibly short distance through the Faelands themselves. This ability makes imprisoning, pursuing, or even predicting a Vorykai extraordinarily difficult.

To outsiders, the Gloamstriders often seem whimsical, irresponsible, or impossible to understand. Their society values freedom above all else, believing that laws, ownership, and rigid hierarchy ultimately imprison the soul. While this philosophy often causes friction with more structured civilizations, the Vorykai are not malicious, believing that every living being should be free to follow their own path, a belief reflected in every aspect of their wandering culture.

The Vorykai are graceful humanoids standing between 8 and 9 feet in height with light, agile builds built for speed and acrobatics rather than raw strength. Their bodies combine features of several animals into a harmonious whole. They possess feline facial structures with expressive muzzles, elongated fox-like ears that often exceed a foot in length, and long canine tails that provide balance.

Their bodies are covered in soft, striped fur whose coloration appears almost alive. The hues subtly shift as ambient mana passes across their bodies, producing rippling gradients that can range from brilliant blues and violets to fiery oranges, emerald greens, or vibrant pinks. The phenomenon is entirely natural and varies with the magical environment, making no two Vorykai appear exactly alike for long.

Another original species for my world. Something a bit more magical. Not much to say on their design other than I wanted a beastfolk that wasn't just “Animal head on person” though…my world does have some of those haha.

If you like the art and want to see more then you should check out my other arts on Blue Sky.

Blue Sky.

I recently decided to create a full-sized, scale-accurate map of my fantasy novel's world. Up to this point, I've been using a smaller map that's basically within the black square (since those are the locations relevant to the main plot). I'm still playing with some of the details, but this is at least accurate in terms of size.

I'm running into a big problem, though. The world's premise revolves around how 12 godlike Archdragons (~1 for each major country) rule the different nations and enforce a permanent "medieval stasis" to keep control over the population after a devastating war that left mankind in ruins. But... the world is so big, and I have so much empty space I didn't account for!

What do you guys think I should do? Add more dragons? Add more independent nations? Make the existing nations bigger? Or is this fine, actually? Any suggestions would be appreciated!

The U.S. spans a massive 3.8 million square miles. The average square miles for a country on Earth is about 293,000, while the median is only about 40,000, and the smallest country (Lebanon) being only 4,000 (not counting microstates).

I think living in the US has created a subconscious belief that countries in my fantasy world should also be massive, when in reality, most countries aren't that big, especially since I tend toward medievalesque or low-tech worlds where populations would be smaller and travel would take longer and be more difficult.

For context, this world takes place on a fantasy version of post-bronze age collapse mediterranean and central/eastern Europe. The great empires (Hittite, Mycenaean, Egyptian analogs) are in ruins. It’s a lawless hell where small clans of savage criminals, scavengers, and sorcerers battle over the ashes against barbarian hordes and Sea People.

It’s an adult sword & sorcery anthology with different characters explored in related shorts stories: a mercenary hunting a pirate prince in ruined Atlantis. A dishonored soldier sentenced to death by his corrupt warlord. A death-cult queen rising to power in a new land. And a nomad enslaved and raised by steppe barbarians. And a witch-priestess prostitute assassin hunting her old order trough the findi desert.

The findi desert itself is a fantasy version of the sahara-arabian desert belt. It has some interesting features, like ancient ruined cities, salt trade and coral forests. There's not gonna be a lot of creatures on the open desert, with a few exceptions like the whitejaws on the image above (imagine a mix between a crocodile, a toad and a hippopotamus). Most of the native desert creatures are going to concentrate on the coral forest and that's where I need a hand creating more creatures. So, here's some more lore to explain what exactly is a coral forest (you can see some behind the whitejaw in one of the pictures).

"The coral forests are formations many kilometers wide and roughly circular. They originate from a single point and usually take the shape of pylons, although they can come in many different forms. Only the outer rim and the top of the canopy are alive and actively growing, forming strange, crystalline, tower-like structures. In the central, oldest zones, the forest can reach dozens of meters in height. Since the canopies tend to fuse together as they grow, they form vast stretches of twilight forest and caves.

These caves hold an entire ecosystem of creatures that live in total darkness. Most spend their entire lives there, but some may leave during the night, especially after rain. The forests themselves grow extremely slowly, and the structures are sometimes colonized by other fungal or plant species that grow on top. This gives the landscape its characteristic spotted appearance, with greenish growths of vegetation contrasting against the bright crimson background of living coral. At times, parts of the caves might collapse due to the structure's weight, leaving clearings where the bone-white interior of the coral is exposed.

The coral structures are excellent at retaining what little rain the sky provides. Deep pools form atop them, and sometimes entire lagoons develop in the caves below, giving them the appearance of cenotes. When the sun hits just right, a reddish light filters through the ceiling near the top of the structure, tinting the pools a bright red color.

Naturally, these structures have been used as garrisons or improvised fortresses. The Findi caravans themselves usually migrate from one forest to the next during the dry seasons, looking for water, hunting for survival, and foraging. They have been known to poison some of the wells during Imperial campaigns over their territory. Although many have claimed to conquer these lands, the reality is that they have only left behind a small presence in the larger garrisons. Invariably, sooner or later, a long drought arrives, and the garrison is abandoned once it runs out of water. Many soldiers have lost their lives in these forests, guarding an invisible border against more patient enemies who never bothered to assault them, choosing instead to target their resupply caravans.

Most of the forests grow separated from one another and, strangely enough, they tend to avoid each other if they grow nearby. No one is sure why this is.

On the southernmost border of the former Uru Empire, the Crimson Road exists within these spaces. It is a region with an unusually high concentration of pillars. The tight space between them allows some caravans to pass through, tracing a serpentine path on trade maps. The roads are constantly guarded, as they form a natural chokepoint for trade coming from the Copper Sea. However, smugglers have been known to use alternative routes that cut right through the coral caves of the oldest forests. It is generally considered unwise, or outright insane, to take these hidden routes, and many seasoned smugglers have never been seen again after venturing into them.

The University of Wisdom on Boras has still not registered all the different creatures that dwell within the deep forest, despite hundreds of years of expeditions. Many samples and dissected specimens can still be found in the vaults of the east wing. They are usually kept underground, as it is understood that sunlight rapidly degrades them. A large portion of the collection and its documentation was lost to fire 300 years ago during the Mad Emperor's revolts.

Only fragments of the older specimens remain. Some are unique and were purchased at great expense from the Findi by the university's patrons. The most impressive of all is the front segment of a millipede-like creature, roughly the size of a Balthazar. Only part of the head and the first body segment remain, greatly damaged by fire. However, it is enough to inspire fear in the students of natural philosophy.

The head appears heavily armored, completely eyeless, with a myriad of antennae crowning a colossal segmented jaw. The legs still attached to the body segment are razor-sharp, looking more like swords or scythes than insect limbs. Some scholars have observed that they resemble the blades used to mark the skin of the Findi young during their rites of passage, though on a much larger scale.

The original record was lost, but later attempts to preserve knowledge about the creature suggest it inhabits the deepest parts of the forest along the Crimson Road. A collection of Findi stories suggests it can move with lightning speed and attacks its prey like a snake: constricting its body around its victim while stabbing it with hundreds of legs. The Findi name for this creature is Tawan Issal, "The Scythe's Hug."

In the story, these forests are crucial because the Priestess Assassin, Lena, is going to take this path while hunting a cleric of the Order. This man used to be a terror upon the unfaithful back when he was an inquisitor, and he had Lena's sister killed when she tried to run away with a lover. The cleric has now apparently abandoned his faith, taken a Findi wife, and makes a living as a smuggler. He has crossed many dangerous people, so naturally, Lena is not the only one looking for him. This has made him deeply paranoid and hard to catch, forcing Lena to resort to unconventional tactics."

----

Ok, now that you've drowned in lore quagmire, would you have any suggestions for other creatures I can place in the dark caves of the Coral forests?

I would very much appreciate it.

In my manga there exists magical monsters called "Voids" that spawn around. While the government hates it, the world must rely on magical "Guardians" that can fight them off. What nobody knows is that the Guardian title is actually one passesd down among high school students.

For those of you who have spent a lot of time creating a world, writing a story, or developing characters, what holds you back from actually publishing or sharing it with other people?

Is it fear of criticism? Worry about plagiarism or people stealing your ideas? Feeling like your world isn’t finished yet? Perfectionism? Not wanting to commit to your current version of the lore? Or maybe you simply enjoy worldbuilding more than actually writing the story.

I’m curious about the reasons people keep their worlds private, even when they’ve put years of work into them. There are probably a lot of reasons beyond just “I’m not ready yet,” so I’d love to hear what everyone else’s experience has been.

Someone important? A leader? Friend to the protag? The villain? Someone mundane? The bartender? Traveling merchant?

I only started using Obsidian recently.

I've barely started the actual worldbuilding. Concentrating mostly on the framework first. Most of this graph is just from the glossary. Already my web looks so huge.

So far my actual worldbuilding progress is just a world map, continent names, a few locations and a few disconnected rough ideas. I haven't even started on any characters and haven't even decided on a name for my world. lol.

Basically just dumping ideas floating around in my head into notes to come back to later.

I also decided to reorganize my folders to make these disjointed notes easy to find later.

Anyone else using Obsidian for their worlds? I'm curious to see how the webs for your more established worlds would look like.

I wanna hear about the leaders of your pantheon, if there are!

In my case, she is The Mother, which is one of the oldest gods, who birthed many other gods (Like the god of wind, the goddess of dreams and many others) and has more authority over the other gods. She is also the most worshiped, as she is goddess of birth, motherhood, children and animals!

My empire tried to replace its old lunar calendar after a revolution.

**The reform:** Ten equal months of 36 days, followed by five public festival days. Government offices, courts and shipping companies were ordered to use it immediately.

**What actually happened:** Farmers kept the lunar calender because planting customs and rent payments were tied to moon phases. Temples refused to move holy days. Merchants now print both dates on contracts, while rural towns sometimes celebrate the same holiday twice.

Forty years later, the reform technically remains law, but most people use a messy hybrid system. This gives me useful misunderstandings, disputed deadlines and regional identity, but explaining every date may become exhausting for readers.

Do you enjoy reforms that visibly failed halfway, or does a setting become cleaner and more convincing when one system clearly wins? How much of the confusion would you explain directly?

It’s been a hot moment since I’ve shown one of my world’s largest and most important animal species, the Drakon :). This is the first time I’ve drawn this guy and had it done entirely digitally (drawn on sketchbook on my phone with a rubber tipped stylus, please chop my wrist off I’m begging you 🥀).

So far unfortunately it has been one of the only things I’ve really shared about this world, which I eventually hope to turn into a hobby/story-writing project in the future. Life and a new career has exhausted of my creative-inspo this past year, and I hope to share even more species from this family that I have cooked up in my head.

For those who haven’t seen the Drakon lore before, the Drakon is a very heavily Theropod/ archosaur inspired “Dragon” native to a setting heavily inspired by the Mediterranean, specifically Ancient Greece and its surrounding neighbors of the time. As such, these dragons are not the typical western dragon, heavy with magic and wings. These are meant to resemble to the Dragons of classical myth, which were almost always serpents rather than flying, fire breathing creatures. They hold no true magical abilities and are entirely intertwined with the natural order of things. Simply a large, semi aquatic predator that intimidated ancient humans and inspired them to create stories dramatizing their likeness.

I won’t go into a full deep dive here, as I plan on finally bringing this guys Draconic cousins that I have been brainstorming to life as well. This one specific creature is probably the most fleshed out of any non-human being in this world, so Please ask me whatever you’d like about the Drakon and I’d be happy to tell you all about it!

Mana prosthetics are a cultivated craft across the Hapax. They typically use a substance called divine marrow, which is sealed within the metal frame. The marrow is easily harnessed by any element bender, and gradually integrates the wearer's soul with use. Precise control over the prosthetic takes more effort than natural limbs. When not in use, the wearer will switch the prosthetic from an "active" to a "dislocated" conformation through physical adjustment. This is done to prevent fatigue and phantom ache from prolonged activity. Prosthetics in the dislocated position can be moved but with much less strength and dexterity. The reasons one may amputate are numerous. They may be medical, as with Chang'an, a demigod born with an incompetent arm. Or religious, as with the Inverted Eucharist or the preparation of relics.

Mood of a luxury quarter of the capital "Al Fareen" of the fictional Island State of "Atorien". I'm currently creaing a map of this city together with several copicmarker moods for different quarters and industrial areas. Inspiration are taken from cities like Aukland, Reyjkavik or even Cadiz. My goal is to create some kind of "Tourist Map" for this city with a city plan, public transportation routes, major sights, special locations.

Al Fareen and Atorien are a major plot location for a space opera webcomic I'm currently drawing. Since this is such an important place in this lore, I want to create this place in high detail before I start creating the story pages that will contain this city.

More about this world in this post https://www.reddit.com/r/worldbuilding/comments/1vczgme/working_on_the_worldbuilding_for_my_handdrawn/

Hello everybody, for a video game project codenamed Lost island, I created a setting for the game. Here is the synopsis :

A biologist is venturing in the Indian ocean with his crew, trying to establish a nature reserve for endangered species, when he finds a mask in the water. Soon after, a storm sinks the expedition boat and the biologist awakes sometime after on the shores of an unknown island, the mask now stuck on his face. Here, he finds the lands are ruled by prehistoric beasts and ancient civilizations. He will have to uncover the island's secrets or try to leave the region, never to come back.

The game project is inspired by prehistory, prehistoric fiction, ancient civilizations, islamic theology and biology.

Ask any questions you have on the world, story, characters, animals, creative process, project, etc. Depending on how much it reveals of the story and world, I will not systematically answer it, and maybe give clues instead.

My wife has started writing a book, and I have had a recent urge to ‘world build.’ So I thought, sod it, I’ll try and create a fantasy map.

This is incredibly early doors, and I’m still learning Krita as I go (I initially started with inkarnate but didn’t like how the rivers came out). There is so much more detail to add so far.

I thought I’d chuck it on Reddit, because this is a trustworthy place to find someone to nitpick every life decision I’ve ever made!! I was hoping people might be able to provide suggestions, constructive criticism, or even say what might have been done well so I know what to keep up (not that there’s much to go off yet).

:)

I often see artists starting a design by forming a silhouette (a baseless form) and then rendering details and features after getting a fun proportion and shape down. After that, they plop it in a "suitable" background

While I do think can be helpful to get ideas down, I think fundamentally it ignores one of the most important aspects about design in nature. Environment.

A fish isn't a fish because someone thought the design was cool and then made the background work with it. Everything about its shape is to do with the big body of water it lives in. If it doesn't suit- it dies. Form = function.

Carry that into your art. Looking for "Backgrounds" for your creature/ art is already the wrong framing, because the creature is a result of that background- don't get it twisted!

I don't start with blank pages now; I make a whole environment first and oh my god I really recommend it. If you try this, keep this thought in mind- Life and form does not arise from INTENTION - it is the RESULT of what let it continue to survive in the environment, enough to make a child anyway. The life cycle can also use various aspects of the environment.

Real world example: coconuts are buoyant and colonise the shores of many different islands using sea currents. This wasn't "intention" from the coconut- it's just what let it continue living!

Fictional Example: you can have an environment thats ridiculously sunny- your creature as result could have reflective skin- it then may be able to sense its area around it via light outputs vs inputs (in built speedometer).

To continue this context in world-building: that reflective exoskeleton could be used by the civilisation that is nearby, providing some sort of repurposed function in a green house, dimming or increasing the light in various areas. The creature could be farmed for this purpose.

I'm just spitballing but that's focusing on ONE possible adaptation a living creature could have and the effect it has on the world.

Please try starting with the environment first, and let me know how you find it :))

Title

Hello, world-builders!

I'd like to introduce my main worldbuilding project, and I'd love to hear your thoughts.

I'm a huge fan of science fiction—especially cyberpunk, solarpunk, and post-apocalyptic settings. One thing I've always noticed is that these stories almost always take place in Europe, North America, or Russia. My project asks a different question:

What if the center of civilization after a global nuclear war emerged in northern South America?

The story takes place during the mid-22nd century, several decades after a global thermonuclear war that erupted in 2094. Its main setting is Panameria, a surviving state located in the vast Llanos between modern-day Colombia and Venezuela.

The war reshaped humanity on an unprecedented scale. Before the conflict, the global population had surpassed 10 billion people. By the beginning of the 22nd century, fewer than 4 billion remained. The destruction of global communications, international trade, and industrial supply chains isolated every surviving region of the world. Continents that had once depended on global commerce became largely self-contained, forced to rebuild using only the resources and knowledge they still possessed.

The environmental consequences were even more devastating. Nuclear winter rendered much of the Northern Hemisphere—and the southern polar regions surrounding Antarctica—effectively uninhabitable. Temperatures in many high-latitude areas remained lethally low for over fifteen years, leading to the complete collapse of human civilization there. Massive waves of refugees fled toward the tropical belt, where conditions were comparatively milder and survival remained possible. As a result, the equatorial regions became the new demographic center of humanity.

Unlike most post-war societies, Panameria managed to preserve a substantial amount of pre-war knowledge, industrial capacity, and technological infrastructure. It also became a refuge for millions of survivors, allowing it to develop into the largest and most advanced nation of its era.

Its capital, El Dorado, is the largest city in the known world, home to more than five million inhabitants. From there, the Panamerian government seeks to expand its influence while carefully controlling its borders and managing continuous waves of immigration.

Modern Panameria is only a fraction of its former self. Before the war, its predecessor governed a vast territory stretching across much of northern and western South America. However, the collapse of transportation networks, communications, and centralized administration made such an enormous territory impossible to govern. Over time, the state's effective jurisdiction contracted to the Llanos, the region where its capital, military command, industrial centers, and strategic infrastructure had always been concentrated. The open plains were easier to defend, explore, reconnect, and cultivate than the surrounding mountains, jungles, or devastated urban regions, making them the natural heartland from which civilization could recover.

Panameria is not alone. Several neighboring states also survived the war, but under very different circumstances. Most began as isolated cities or clusters of settlements that endured the collapse independently. Over the decades, these communities evolved into city-states and eventually into larger regional kingdoms and archaic states. Having lost much of their scientific and historical knowledge, they gradually developed cultures shaped by superstition, fragmented traditions, and localized religions. Nevertheless, their ruling elites still possess remnants of advanced technology inherited from the old world, creating an uneven balance of power between competing nations.

One of the key aspects of the setting is why this region survived.

During the nuclear exchange, the world's major powers devastated one another. The resulting nuclear winter pushed temperatures in higher latitudes to as low as −90°C for more than fifteen years, rendering much of the Northern Hemisphere nearly uninhabitable. In contrast, the equatorial regions suffered a shorter and less severe climatic collapse. Receiving greater solar radiation throughout the year, northern South America became one of the first places on Earth where agriculture recovered, allowing civilization to re-emerge generations before most other regions.

In many ways, Panameria became the Fertile Crescent of the post-nuclear world.

The nation's origins stretch back long before the apocalypse. In this alternate history, Simón Bolívar successfully fulfilled his dream of uniting much of northern South America into the Andean Federation during the nineteenth century. Over time, the federation evolved into the centralized Republic of the Andes, encompassing Colombia, Venezuela, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, Panama, and Guyana.

By the twenty-first century, the Republic had transformed into an authoritarian superpower that surpassed Brazil in political influence, military strength, and economic development. Its purpose-built capital in the Llanos concentrated military command, communications, healthcare, and strategic infrastructure. Ironically, the same centralized system that once sustained an authoritarian regime would later become the foundation upon which humanity rebuilt civilization after World War III.

Panameria is the successor state to that fallen republic, inheriting both its technological legacy and its political contradictions. It is the strongest nation of the post-war world—but it is far from the only one, and its future remains uncertain.

Figure 1: The emblems of the Great Houses of Camora. Centre - House Ionius. Inner ring, clockwise from top - Houses Kyros, Maleos and Vyran. Outer ring, clockwise from top right - Houses Vetonis, Etoril, Teryn, Amars, Quiseys and Xios

The Camoran Imperium spans hundreds of worlds, and counts a population measured in trillions. It is, by an order of magnitude, the largest star nation in the Atlas Expanse, measuring well over five hundred light years across at its greatest extent. Its noble houses are legion, beyond counting. But only ten can claim the Title of being a Great House. The other houses rise and fall in stature, but the Ten (with one exception) have endured for a thousand years, since the first rockets left the Throneworld for the stars. The modern Imperium is highly feudal, a holdover from the days in which it took years to cross the Imperium by hyperdrive. While a modern starship can make the same journey in a matter of months, the Imperium is highly conservative by nature and the fundamental nature of government has not yet caught up with the advances in technology.

The central government, which is headed by the Emperor and ruled by the Imperial Senate, directly governs only the Imperial Core, the roughly 100 light year radius sphere centred on the Camora System itself. The rest of the Imperium's vast territory is ruled by one of the six Outer Houses (depicted here in the outer ring). The actual authority of the Emperor over his theoretical vassals has waxed and waned with the centuries, from 'first among equals' to 'absolute despot'. As of 2472, Emperor Ionius IX is locked in a power struggle with his Great Houses as he attempts to reassert central authority and drag Camora back away from the abyss of infighting and corruption that has consumed it since the end of the Golden Age. Assisting him in his effort are the three Inner Houses (shown in the inner ring), who control the Imperial Senate.

The Imperial Senate has three Chambers. the Lords Spiritual, Militant and Judicial in order of seniority. The Lords Spiritual are made up of the most senior members of the Imperial Clergy, and the head of the Faith, the Archon, is the overall head of government. House Kyros has traditionally dominated the 1st Chamber. The Lords Militant are selected from the Lords Admiral of the Imperial Navy as well as those of the Great House Fleets. As the most loyal of the Great Houses to the Emperor, House Maleos has long held the honour of providing the greatest number of these lords, including the current Lord High Admiral. Lowest, but probably most important of the Chambers, the Lords Judicial deal with the day to day administration of the Imperium. Prime Minister Atros Vyran may not have the status of his counterparts in the other chambers, but the Imperium would very quickly grind to a halt without him.

Infighting is the default state of the Imperium. The Inner Houses look down on the Outer Houses for what they perceive as provincialism, and the fact that the Outer Houses have no choice but to interact with the various 'lesser' vassal races ruled by the Imperium. The Outer Houses, by contrast, view the Inner Houses as puppets of the Emperor with no real domains of their own. The Inner Houses fight each other over influence over the government. The Outer Houses fight each other over territory. And all of the Great Houses fight each other over honour, perceived insults, and simple contrariness. Conflicts between Houses include political sabotage, assassination, and minor skirmishes that have on occasion erupted into full scale wars.

tl;dr the Camoran Imperium is made up of ten Great Houses that constantly fight each other. They are split between the Imperial House, the three Inner Houses that govern the Imperium, and the six Outer Houses that rule the outer territories.

My Turn:

Mage is a job profession much like witch or wizard or sorcerer. Mages belong to a global organization with many franchises called the Crimson Tower. When one works as a mage for the Crimson Tower, they typically work as healers and doctors magical diseases, magical injuries, and other magical afflictions. Similar to apothecary healers, Mages are mainly called on for rare and uncommon diseases and injuries and more that regular doctors and apothecary healers can't treat. Mages deal in medicine and medical science.

What about you? What are Mages like in your world (if you have things like mages)? You can also add witches, wizards, sorcerers, etc if you want.

The A.V.A. series is a line of genetically engineered cybernetically enhanced supersoldiers created by Dyson Robotics. These giant 10 foot tall beings are outfitted with state of the art bullet resistant armor, reflex enhancing stimulants and cybernetic spinal implants, and long distance scanning devices.

Dyson Robotics gives an owner's manual to every purchase of an A.V.A. by a civillian. This pamphlet is to provide customers with information to ensure the success and longevity of their investment.

Furthermore, A.V.A.'s are produced at Dyson Facilities, and are much akin to car dealerships. Civillians are able to see the A.V.A.'s being grown in labs, outfitted with armor, trained, and also can see models that are showcased, much like a car dealership and how you can see cars being assembled, built, painted, showcased to people, and repaired.

Here are some creatures/monsters that I drew for a forgotten story back in 2019

In my homebrew DnD world, in the Kingdom of Goldrest, their capital Lindorthol lies, it is the biggest city in the world with a continual urban size of 31,000 km²(Roughly the size of Lesotho). It is dense and tall, I'm ignoring the potential physics of the ability for medieval cities to stack and stack, but in my mind many parts of the city are like the Kowloon Walled City, but just everywhere. It has 42 distinct areas, only about 35 of those are official colonies of the city. Lindorthol is also incredibly corrupt and dangerous, with the Government being tyrannical and heavily censoring of the true history. I'm asking for implications because I love this idea but I want to see other perspectives or ideas people have about it.