Welcome to Gaiathrae
Homebrew adventures, mythical creatures, and legendary characters — all forged in the fires of Gaiathrae. Your next campaign starts here.
Battle maps made using Inkarnate.
NPC, Monster, and Scenery art made using Midjourney
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Campaign settings and adventures ready to run at your table.
NPCs, allies, and villains — fully statted and lore-rich.
Custom creatures with stat blocks, lore, and encounter tips.
High-resolution maps for dungeons, wilderness, and cities.
Deep dives into the world of Gaiathrae — its history, factions, and gods.
Sample adventures, creatures, and resources — no membership required.
In the hidden sanctuary of Emberveil, the Reborn Ash-Warden Sevra Hollowshroud keeps the Cinderscript - a living archive of names, faces and stories held in ash - and sits with everyone who arrives carrying a grief they cannot put down.
Everything alive in the Verdant Shroud carries a little light. The coldbrand is the hole in it, and by the time you understand what you are looking at, you are already standing inside its reach.
He stands, drums his chest, and fills the air with orange dust. That is the warning. Everything after it is a choice somebody made.
Fire is what the Shroud runs on. Bring some to this thing and you are feeding it, not fighting it.
Everything green in the Verdant Shroud is standing on something that burned. Grennoch is the one who lit it.
The Shroud lights itself at night. Bring a torch anyway, and something with a thousand wings will come put it out.
Andisol lives on fruit and flowers, and something has to carry the pollen. Osric Slowhand keeps the cinder wasps: not tamed, not owned, just tolerated by mutual agreement. A patient, sting-scarred guide who can walk you past a nest, and who knows the orchards have started changing.
Andisol's fireglass and firecloth get the attention, but it is Rhosyn Steepwater's dye yard that gives them their colour - a half-elf who coaxes blood-orange out of ash-fed blooms, and who has spent years chasing one red she made once and has never matched since.
Andisol's glasshouses grow what the jungle won't, and they do it because Wisla Warmfurrow spent 40 years burying pipe. The gnome steamwright's real trade isn't making Andisol hot. It's making it steady, one valve and one seedbed at a time.
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