The Sacred Land of Kebruvalon
In the heart of the tinted ocean lies the fractured island of Kebruvalon, once a shimmering jewel of harmony and ancient wonder. Long before mankind dared to cross the waves, the island was known as Kaeth Thalor, “The Silver Garden”, cradle of the Highborn Alvanians, a people of keen senses, radiant minds, and unmatched magical finesse. These noble beings, guided by their twin deities, Aelarion, the Sun Sovereign, and Lunastra, the Moon Weaver, wove silversteel into weapons of art and harnessed natural magic into graceful marvels. From the towering Palace of Ten Dawns, King Aerion Sunblade ruled with wisdom and might.
But this paradise would not remain untouched.
When mankind first came to Kebruvalon, they were wanderers, explorers from the great continent seeking hope. Yet in time, they brought not only numbers, but ambition, science, and a fatal curiosity. At the height of their rise, the Kebruvalon Empire, seated in Falconsearch, unleashed the Great Experiment, an effort to open mana voids and harness raw, concentrated energy to fuel their dominion.
It was a catastrophic success.
The voids tore through the fabric of the world, flooding the land with uncontrollable mana storms. The Hearth Mages, once the Empire’s greatest scholars, were the first to fall, twisted by the very magic they sought to master. Their minds shattered. Their souls unravelled. Some were banished; others vanished into the wilds, obsessed with power. But some, especially among the Free Peoples, rose again, now hollowed and deathless, becoming the first of the Legion of the Curled Flesh.
The Free City, once a haven of cooperation and peace, was the epicentre of the mana surge. In an instant, it was consumed by fire and ether. Most inhabitants died. Those few who rose again did so, not as men, but as necromancers, drawn to the endless streams of death-fueled mana. Now they command legions of bone and shadow, seeking vengeance against the Empire that shattered their world.
The Highborn Alvanians, betrayed and nearly exterminated in the early waves of mankind’s expansion, endured the mana storm in their own way. While many of their cities were razed, they adapted, learning to bend the chaos of the voids to their will. Though diminished in number, they endure as a proud and vengeful people, wielding pure mana as both blade and shield.
In the far jungle of Kaluhazu, the magical aftershock of the Great Experiment shaped new life. Torrents of mana reshaped the land, and from it rose the Iratus Simia, sentient primates of diverse form and strength. Governed by massive gorilla kings and guided by a primal demigod named Alor the Untamed, these beastkin developed a civilization of their own, primitive to some, but deeply connected to the land. Sylvos the Halfblood, an enigmatic hybrid of man and ape, now serves as both guardian and bridge between worlds.
But not all magic brings life.
From the depths of the shattered mountains rose the Gol Hakmon, towering behemoths of stone and spirit. These ancient entities awakened to seal the mana voids, fearing that their unchecked presence would unravel reality itself. They are not enemies—but neither are they allies. They walk the land with thunderous steps, indifferent to mortal wars, acting only to preserve the fabric of the world. Where they tread, the land changes, stabilized, scarred, or silenced.
Now, the Kebruvalon Empire, stripped of its mages, leans on the strength of its disciplined armies, trained beasts, and brutal numbers. Attempts to tame the Iratus Simia have failed time and again, but the Empire’s ambition remains unbroken. It wages war not just against rebels and beasts, but against the consequences of its own hubris.
The world trembles.
The Storm of Rifts has opened once more. Nightmares pour through, gods and demons walk among mortals, and the ground itself fractures beneath the weight of past sins. Across plains and peaks, jungle and ruin, the scattered peoples of Kebruvalon must now choose:
Will they war for power, or unite to survive the end they themselves began?
Gameplay!
Kebruvalon is a narrative-driven tabletop skirmish wargame set on a shattered island scarred by unstable mana and endless war. On a 4×4 ft. battlefield, players command unique factions, each with distinct units, special rules, and battlefield strategies. Every unit matters, and every activation can shift the tide of battle.
Using dynamic D10-based mechanics, players alternate activations, manage stress, and fight not only their opponents but the environment itself. Forests block line of sight, ruins create defensive strongholds, storms close in, and ancient graves whisper with dangerous power. Positioning, timing, and objective control are just as important as raw combat strength.
Mana flows unpredictably across Kebruvalon. It empowers spells, warps terrain, fuels devastating abilities, and tempts those who seek to harness it. Some factions draw strength from its currents, others suffer its instability, and a few dare to bend it to their will at great cost.
Victory is not achieved through slaughter alone. Scenarios revolve around shifting objectives, environmental hazards, and battlefield control, ensuring that no two games unfold the same way.
In Kebruvalon, the land is alive, the magic is unstable, and survival belongs to the bold.
Gol Hakmon
Towering mountain spirits built for durability and disruption. Slow but unstoppable, they reshape the battlefield with raw power..
Hearth Mages
High-risk elemental spellcasters capable of devastating magical bursts. Powerful but unstable, they balance destruction with dangerous backlash..
Highborn
Elite warriors empowered by refined mana control and superior senses. Fewer in number, but precise, intelligent, and deadly.
Iratus Simia
Fast, aggressive jungle fighters who thrive in terrain and close combat. They overwhelm with mobility, ambushes, and primal force.
Current Factions
In Kebruvalon, eight distinct factions offer radically different playstyles on the battlefield. The Kebruvalon Empire fields disciplined ranks, trained beasts, and strong battlefield control through numbers and coordination. The ancient Highborn Alvanians excel at refined mana manipulation, precision strikes, and elite, high-quality units. The wild Iratus Simia thrive in dense terrain, using mobility, ambush tactics, and aggressive melee pressure. The corrupted Legion of the Curled Flesh overwhelms enemies with undead resilience, fear effects, and attrition-based play.
The oceanic Sons of the Sea control space with whirlpools and water synergy, dragging opponents into punishing zones. The towering Gol Hakmon dominate through raw durability and battlefield disruption, reshaping positioning with unstoppable force. The unstable Hearth Mages wield devastating elemental magic, risking backlash for explosive power. Meanwhile, the cunning Western Muroidea combine mobility, firearms, and tactical trickery to outmaneuver and outshoot their enemies.
Each faction rewards a different strategy — whether you prefer elite precision, overwhelming force, battlefield control, or high-risk magical dominance.
Kebruvalon Empire
Disciplined soldiers, trained beasts, and strong battlefield coordination define the Empire. They win through numbers, positioning, and tactical reliability.
Legion of the Curled Flesh
Necromantic warbands that endure punishment and grind enemies down. Fear, attrition, and relentless resurrection are their strengths.
Sons of the Sea
Masters of water and battlefield control, dragging foes into whirlpools and deadly zones. They dominate through positioning and environmental advantage.
Western Muroidea
Mobile gunfighters and cunning tacticians with superior ranged pressure. They win through speed, clever positioning, and precise shooting.
Resources
The World of Kebruvalon
Make a deepdive into the lore of each faction. Their place in the world and their history
Kebruvalon Empire
Read More
Legion of the Curled Flesh
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Sons of the Sea
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Western Muroidea
“The Chronicles of a Broken Realm”
By Archivist-General Meron Valdari, Royal Scriptorium of Falconsearch
“We are not the first to call this island home, nor, I fear, will we be the last to bury our dead in its soil.” Nestled like a jeweled dagger in the heart of the Tinted Ocean, the island of Kebruvalon bears a beauty that has always belied its danger. To many, it is a land of fertile plains, radiant skies, and glittering coasts. To those of us in the Kebruvalon Empire, it is home, bastion, and burden. But it was not always ours.
The Age of the Highborn
Long before the Empire’s banners rose above the silver fields, Kaeth Thalor “The Silver Garden” in the tongue of its first masters, was ruled by the Highborn Alvanians. These luminous beings claimed descent from twin celestial deities: Aelarion, the Sun Sovereign, and Lunastra, the Moon Weaver. Whether god-born or merely ancient, they shaped the land in their image. They built tall towers of singing stone, tended forests of luminous crystal, and studied the flows of raw mana that pulsed beneath the earth.
Their pride was their undoing.
When mankind first arrived, we came as supplicants, refugees fleeing a dying continent. The Highborn, wary but curious, let us settle at the fringes of their domain. It was an uneasy peace. Over generations, tensions rose. Our hunger for expansion, and theirs for control, clashed. War followed, and much of the Highborn culture was buried beneath fire and steel.
Today, the Highborn remain, fewer, wiser, and far more dangerous. They have learned to bend the ambient mana to their will, binding it into gleaming constructs and brilliant warforms. Their leaders still speak in riddles, cloaked in twilight and prophecy, ever watching from the mountain palaces.
The Great Experiment
It is said that progress requires risk. Perhaps that is true. But what of hubris?
Centuries after our arrival, the Circle of Thirteen Hearth Mages, our greatest arcanists, convened in secret. They sought to pierce the veil of magic, to understand the very roots of reality. Each represented one of the four elemental lores: fire, water, wind, and earth. Three masters of each, plus one who stood apart, an unnamed mage who claimed to see the “unity beneath division.”
Their experiment fractured the world.
Mana burst forth from hidden seams. The sky screamed. Mountains shattered. And in that moment, the world changed. These ruptures, now called mana voids, spilled their unstable energies across the land. The Hearth Mages were never seen again, at least, not as they were.
Some say their souls were unbound. Others say they walk still, changed by something they summoned but could not contain. I have read accounts that speak of a “synthesis,” a fifth form of magic. But such writings are sealed, restricted, and, if truth be told, burned.
The Rise of the Empires
In the wake of the Great Experiment, the Kebruvalon Empire reformed itself. Magic, once our pillar, became a curse. The surviving Hearth Mages were exiled, their minds fractured and their loyalties unclear. Instead, we turned to discipline, numbers, and invention. Our armies grew strong, steel-forged, animal-trained, and alchemically hardened. The wilds were tamed, and steam engines thundered along rail lines to the borders. But not all lands could be held.
The Iratus Simia
From the verdant depths of Kaluhazu Jungle came the Iratus Simia, the beastkin of vine and fang. Great apes and cunning monkeys, their minds awakened by mana storms that reshaped their very souls. Civilized in their own strange ways, they worship a demigod of wild order: Alor the Untamed. Our soldiers have tried to tame them. None have succeeded. Many have died.
They are not beasts. They are a nation, primal and proud, guided by warlords and mystics in equal measure. Our maps mark Kaluhazu red for a reason.
The Western Muroidea
To the arid west rise the towns of the Western Muroidea, rodent-folk of gunpowder and grit. Once thought pests, they have formed a culture as strange as it is efficient. Wearing broad-brimmed hats and wielding rusted revolvers, they bring their brand of frontier justice wherever rails reach.
They speak in twang, barter in bullets, and treat honour like currency. Our relations remain… unpredictable. They are not to be underestimated. Beneath those twitching noses lie minds sharper than any dagger.
Sons of the Sea
More chilling still are the Sons of the Sea, crustacean horrors spawned from the deeps. They came when the voids opened under the ocean, dragging horrors from lightless trenches. With clacking limbs and barnacle-shelled warlords, they enslave, devour, and multiply.
None speak their tongue. Few survive their raids. And yet, something commands them. Something old. Something we do not yet understand.
The Legion of the Curled Flesh
Worst of all, perhaps, are those we once called brothers.
The Legion of the Curled Flesh rose from the ashes of the Free City, obliterated during the Experiment by a surge of burning mana. In that fire, something twisted. Hearth Mages reawakened as necromancers. Their bones still burn with unspent power. They walk now as corpses given voice, and lead hosts of deathless things across the land. We once traded with them. Now, we salt the earth where they tread.
There is a darkness coiling beneath the mana, a whisper just beyond comprehension. We have glimpsed the storm, but not its eye. Something old stirs—older than gods, deeper than mana. I do not know if we can stop it.
But we must try.
— Archivist-General Valdari
