Shae Joridal: Spire of Emerald Lights

The feyspires once shifted onto the plane of Eberron from the fey realm of Thelanis once every few centuries. The cities would appear, veiled from mortal eyes after the disastrous conflict between the eladrin and the giants, for seven years at manifest zones to the Faerie Court and then slip back once more. On the Day of Mourning, however, this connection was damaged, the veils fell, and the feyspires remained in the material realm. Many appeared in remote locations, such as Taer Lian Doresh in the wilds of the Lazhaar Principalities, while others appeared close to mortal cities where they could forge quick alliances, like Pylas Pyrial which works very well with the Zil gnomes.
The feyspire of Shae Joridal was the most unfortunate of them all.
It could have survived in the wild but the Emerald Spire manifested in the midst of Darguun, the nation of goblins newly wrested from the hands of Cyre. The goblins responded quickly, besieging the "invading" feyspire and blocking all contact. The fey creatures of the city used their magic to come and go, collecting food, but as that magic fades they are more and more desperate. Worse still, they do not know why this fading is happening.

Shae Joridal at a Glance

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Areas of Shae Joridal

The entire feyspire is built around the Emerald Spire, palace of the eladrin lord of the city known now as the Grim Poet. The spire is impressively tall, protected from the goblins' siege engines by the strange geometries of the planar city, and it is surrounded at the top by three orbiting spheres that glow with emerald light and give Shae Joridal its name. Gathered around the base of the Spire is the Verge, a spread of glades and houses indistinguishable from each other. Both of these structures are slowly decaying, though, as the population is stressed and trapped in the feyspire. More and more of this area is made up of the Lost, made up of refugees from the ruined Wightswood outside of the feyspire's walls and from destroyed portions where the city's magics are failing. Beneath the Verge lie the Roots of the city, both figuratively and literally. This realm of gnome merchants, myconid sages, and xivort mercenaries lies in caverns lit by the glowing green veins of crystal that branch out through the ground from the Spire. The Roots have historically been at odds with the surface city but the siege has thrown the two areas together, at least temporarily.

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