The world is not a continent or a kingdom, it is all we have here. A lone, endless plane of existence stretching in every direction, with no stars above to escape to and a strange magic keeping you in this place.

On its fragile western coast clings a single settled region of roads, farms, and taverns where people pretend the horizon is just far-off land and not a question the gods never answered. Beyond that thin crust of “civilization” the plane rolls on into the wilderness.

Shattered citadels lie half-swallowed by the earth. Dead empires sleep under glass deserts. Forests walk. Mountains breathe. No one knows what lies at the very edge, or if there even is one.

This is a West Marches campaign. There is one home settlement where rumors gather and maps grow crowded with ink and argument. From there, you choose a direction, gather a company, and walk into the unbounded unknown. Some return with treasure and secrets. Some do not return at all. Every expedition pushes the known world a little further out into the great flat forever, and the only way to learn what truly exists on this plane is to go and see it yourself.