Long before roads crossed the great plains, before kingdoms claimed borders or armies marched beneath banners, the land where Symtar now stands was empty grassland beneath an endless sky.
Travelers crossed the region without memory of it. Herds migrated there seasonally. Nothing about the plain suggested importance.
Then one evening, the sun set as it always had.
The following morning, the Endless Tower stood upon the horizon.
No one witnessed its arrival.
No earthquakes announced it. No magical surge was recorded. No storm accompanied its appearance.
It simply existed.
Smooth grey stone stretched impossibly high into the heavens, vanishing beyond cloud cover. The surface remains warm regardless of season. No cracks mark its walls. No windows overlook the plains below.
The tower possesses only a single entrance:
massive double doors at its base large enough for giants to walk through side by side.
No scholar has successfully identified the material composing the structure.
Tools cannot scratch it.
Magic fails to alter it.
Attempts to tunnel beneath it have all ended in failure.
Yet despite its silence, the tower is not inactive.
Each dawn, the doors open for a single group of up to six challengers.
Upon crossing the threshold, every entrant hears the same calm voice spoken flawlessly in their native tongue:
“Reach the summit, and your wish shall be granted.”
What waits above remains unknown.
Scholars estimate the tower contains roughly one hundred floors, though no surviving explorer has ever confirmed reaching the top.
Every floor presents a different trial.
Some test strength.
Others demand intellect, sacrifice, morality, patience, cooperation, or restraint.
Entire parties have vanished within illusions, labyrinths, living storms, impossible riddles, or creatures no survivor could properly describe afterward.
Yet after each completed floor, the tower offers a choice:
continue upward…
or leave safely with whatever rewards have already been earned.
And the rewards are unquestionably real.
Artifacts recovered from the tower have transformed entire fields of study. Weapons of impossible craftsmanship circulate among kings and mercenaries alike. Ritual tools, enchanted materials, and magical devices recovered from higher floors routinely defy known laws of arcane theory.
Some relics remain so dangerous that entire vaults were constructed simply to contain them.
Others changed history.
Naturally, the world came searching.
Shrines to countless gods now crowd the tower’s outer foundation. Candles burn day and night. Offerings vanish whenever no one is watching. Skeptics blame thieves. Priests call it blessing.
Either way, the food never remains long.
Inns, taverns, guild halls, training academies, magical workshops, and marketplaces soon spread outward across the plains.
Symtar was not founded through conquest.
It was built through obsession.
Mercenaries sell expedition contracts. Ritualists prepare blessings and wards. Tutors teach combat theory, philosophy, magical control, and survival techniques specifically tailored for known tower floors.
Scam artists thrive beside genuine experts, selling counterfeit relics, fabricated maps, or “secret solutions” guaranteed to survive the tower’s trials.
Most are frauds.
Not all.
Entire organizations now dedicate themselves to understanding the Endless Tower. Wizards dissect recovered artifacts searching for clues to its creators. Philosophers debate whether the structure is divine, artificial, or alive. Veteran challengers gather into competing ideological factions known as the Schools of Solving, each convinced they alone understand the correct path to conquering the tower.
Some preach flawless teamwork.
Others advocate ruthless pragmatism.
A few believe the tower judges morality itself.
None can prove their theories.
Yet all continue climbing.
Surprisingly little changed in Symtar after the collapse of the alliance.
While surrounding cities descended into warfare and political instability, the Endless Tower remained exactly as it always had:
silent, eternal, and indifferent.
Most citizens prioritize knowledge, discovery, or personal ambition over conquest. The city possesses only weak centralized leadership, and few groups hold authority long enough to reshape Symtar permanently.
Still, zealots occasionally arise claiming war itself may reveal truths about the tower or earn its favor.
Such movements rarely last.
Defensively, Symtar appears vulnerable.
Its walls are modest. Its formal military is laughably small.
Yet attacking the city has repeatedly proven catastrophic.
The Endless Tower attracts adventurers, monsterslayers, mercenaries, scholars, and mages from across the world. At any given moment, thousands of highly capable fighters reside within the city.
One army once attempted to assault the tower itself.
The blackened scar left across the plains remained visible for weeks.
No second attempt has ever been made.
Near the entrance to the Endless Tower sits a crowded little storefront overflowing with climbing gear, charms, lanterns, maps, preserved food, refurbished relics, and items of deeply questionable origin.
Its owner claims to sell only one thing:
success.
Nati built his fortune not through strength or magic, but through the ability to recognize value where others saw waste.
Born in Dafed, he learned commerce beneath one of the city’s influential dye guildmasters, where he developed an early understanding of negotiation, presentation, and the simple truth that people rarely purchase what they need.
They purchase what they hope for.
Before the wars began, Nati relocated to Hesit, where survival depended far more upon adaptability than polish.
There he learned to salvage broken equipment, restore damaged artifacts, and repurpose failure into profit. While others hunted treasure in dangerous ruins, Nati became wealthy supplying those willing to continue searching.
By the time the alliance fractured, he had already established successful businesses throughout Hesit, Cavurous, Enviro, and the World Tree.
Symtar became his masterpiece.
The endless flow of challengers guaranteed endless demand, and Nati positioned himself directly at the center of it.
The Tower Emporium now supplies everyone from amateur wish-seekers to legendary adventuring parties preparing for upper-floor expeditions.
Rumors claim Nati can acquire absolutely anything for the right price.
Most suspect the rumors are true.
Despite his opportunistic nature, Nati remains one of Symtar’s strongest advocates for peace.
Cynics claim this merely protects his profits.
Nati himself openly agrees that war is terrible for business.
Yet even his critics admit he has prevented bloodshed more than once by turning enemies into business partners before either realized negotiations had begun.
To Vael, knowledge is not merely valuable.
It is sacred.
The dark-feathered Owlfused has spent his life pursuing understanding with obsessive intensity bordering on madness.
He has broken into noble archives, private collections, forbidden vaults, and magically sealed libraries across the continent in pursuit of rare knowledge.
Bounties have repeatedly appeared upon his head.
Somehow, none have lasted very long.
Once Vael fixates upon a subject, the rest of the world effectively ceases to exist.
He has vanished for months at a time pursuing singular questions.
One such disappearance led him into the wilderness beside a goblin fire cult, where he immersed himself completely within their philosophy of destruction, rebirth, and flame.
When he eventually returned, he wielded fire magic of terrifying precision and was accompanied by a bonded phoenix occasionally seen circling high above Symtar’s rooftops.
No one knows exactly what occurred during that year.
Most are too afraid to ask.
Vael teaches within Symtar, though calling his lectures “organized” would be generous.
Officially, he teaches magical construction and enchantment theory.
In practice, his classes often spiral into ancient linguistics, cosmology, monster anatomy, alchemical reactions, or furious rants regarding improperly catalogued books.
Some days he never arrives at all.
Yet students continue attending in overwhelming numbers.
Because when Vael speaks with focus, he shares insights unavailable anywhere else in the world.
Entire magical careers have begun from half-finished comments he muttered absentmindedly during lectures.
Vael has entered the Endless Tower more times than nearly anyone alive.
Not for a wish.
His wish, he claims, was granted long ago.
The tower itself is what he desires.
Endless mysteries. Endless questions. Endless knowledge.
During war, Vael fights only because Symtar contains his library, laboratory, and research collections.
Allowing harm to come to such things would be intolerable.
Witnesses describe his battlefield magic as horrifyingly precise. Siege engines erupt into controlled infernos while enemy formations collapse beneath spiraling firestorms.
After battles, he is often seen calmly wandering among the dead while smoke still rises around him, taking notes regarding magical reactions, combat patterns, and environmental effects.
