A fairy tale. A horror story. An epic of nobles and peasants alike. A land of mystery. A lonely world in the emptiness of the Last Desert. A place for strangers and for allies, for the good and the evil and the countless throng that rests somewhere in between.
Weirwane is a place that has been touched by love and violence--and, all too often, they are one and the same. An empire sprawling in a mammoth chasm, Weirwane is a state in turmoil. The emperor is dead, his wife and heirs and himself incinerated in a great blaze that swallowed the Summer Palace whole. The nobles preen and strut and feign sorrow, but each has a knife behind their back and a plan to put themselves upon the empty throne. The common man, galvanized by the memory of a royal family that had done more for them than the entire line put together, will meet any usurpation with blood. The five great city-states of the Empire wait for the coming storm. Shrines and chapels are broken open, their holiest relics torn out. The restless dead stir at the edges of the empire, and enemies within and without conspire to see Weirwane remade--or unmade.
Weirwane is a setting, designed without regard to system. It depicts a strange, closed world full of mystery and intrigue. Set in a period of political strife, Weirwane aims to provide a compelling drama for players and a toolbox for storytellers, dungeon masters--whatever you like to call yourself. Weirwane should seem familiar: the trappings of fantasy are strewn throughout the setting. Even more importantly, Weirwane should seem unnerving: there is a great deal going on beneath the surface that aims to trouble the tropes and workings of fantasy.