In Medieta, nature reigns supreme—a world where savage beauty and mortal danger dance as one. Here, the very forces that threaten to destroy life also sustain it, painting landscapes of breathtaking majesty found nowhere else. This is the realm where humanity has learned not to conquer nature, but to move in rhythm with its ancient pulse.
Medieta mirrors an ancient ice age—a realm of towering cliffs, mountains sheathed in eternal ice, and vast glaciers that carve through stone like gods' fingers. Howling snowstorms rule these lands, making clear skies precious gifts that bring with them the ethereal dance of aurora lights across the star-filled heavens. In this harsh domain, no forests dare to grow. Yet each year brings a brief respite—the 'hunting season,' when warming winds expose patches of earth and coax forth precious vegetation. These vital weeks once meant survival for Medieta's people, as they raced to gather enough food for the frozen months ahead. But since the Black Sun's arrival, these seasons of plenty have become seasons of terror, as monsters too emerge from their lairs to hunt.
The people of Medieta bear the mark of their wild homeland in their very flesh—proud warriors adorned with beast-like features passed down through bloodlines. Some display magnificent horns or graceful tails, others flash fearsome claws or gleaming fangs, each trait worn as a badge of honor and often wielded as nature's own weapons. Born to endure the bitter cold, their bodies are forged hardy as iron, and some channel the land's primordial energies through ancient shamanic rites. Many paint their skin with sacred patterns—some to showcase their might, others to invoke spiritual protection. In this unforgiving realm, physical prowess commands deep respect, though this reverence for strength casts long shadows over those born with gentler gifts.
Medieta knows no cities of stone or borders drawn on maps—instead, its people move as small tribes across the frozen expanse, their homes fashioned from the bones and hides of mighty beasts. Reindeer serve as both sustenance and faithful companions, carrying these nomads across the windswept plains. Each tribe moves as one organism, guided by the wisdom of its elders and sustained by the perfect harmony of its members. Hunters track prey through howling blizzards, guardians stand vigilant against dangers both seen and unseen, and shamans bridge the gap between mortal and spirit realms. Every member knows their role in this delicate dance of survival, where the tribe is both family and fortress against the killing cold. To be cast out alone into the waste is a fate worse than death—a punishment reserved for only the gravest crimes. Before the Black Sun, these people raised their voices in reverent prayer to the life-giving sun, their shamans offering precious game in exchange for divine protection. Now, as shadows lengthen across their world, many find their ancient faith tested by bitter questions that echo through the endless night.
Before the Cataclysm, Medieta's beasts were marvels of survival, each perfectly adapted to the merciless cold. Now these once-noble creatures writhe under the touch of Chaos Energy, twisted into nightmarish forms. The frozen wastes crawl with impossible chimeras—bears fused with arctic seals, snow leopards merged with sea-dwelling hunters, each more terrifying than the last. In the most corrupted specimens, Chaos Crystals burst from flesh like frozen flowers, marking them as living testimonies to the Black Sun's taint.
