Crimson Peak

Crimson Peak rises like a wound in the earth, its jagged cliffs stained a deep, unnatural red. From afar, it appears to bleed — and in truth, it does. Iron-rich waters seep from its slopes, carrying with them a heat that should not exist.

Long before Tug and Tog stood divided, this mountain was sacred ground. Early clans gathered here, drawn by its warmth and the strange strength granted by its waters. They believed the Peak was a gift — a place where the land itself offered power.

But beneath the stone lies something far older.

In forgotten ages, a celestial fragment struck the earth here, shattering the surrounding lands and embedding itself deep within the mountain. Its presence twisted the rock, infused it with heat, and stained it red. The clans of old came to understand this truth — and they chose not to use it, but to guard it.

For generations, Tug watched over Crimson Peak, not as a resource, but as a warning. The mountain was never meant to be disturbed.

Tog saw it differently.

Drawn by rumors of power, Tog forces began excavating the mountain’s lower reaches. They carved into its foundations, seeking whatever lay buried beneath. And in doing so, they awakened something.

The glow of the Peak has deepened. The waters run hotter. The ground itself seems restless. What once lay dormant now stirs beneath the surface, neither aligned with Tug nor Tog.

Crimson Peak is no longer just sacred ground — it is a threat. Tug seeks to contain it. Tog seeks to claim it. But whatever lies beneath the mountain may not belong to either.