The World of Terindale: A Living Map, A Fixed Record

“In Terindale, geography is more than place—it’s story. And stories, once written, become stone.”

Terindale isn’t just a backdrop—it’s a world built in tension.

Tension between forgotten covenants and rising kingdoms.
Between truth and illusion.
Between what I imagined… and what I can no longer change.

That’s one of the more unusual things about how I write. Once I publish a chapter, it stays as it is. I don’t go back to revise or retrofit. No retcons. No smoothing over cracks. If a character says something too bold—or not enough—it remains. That’s what happened. The foundation is laid.

So while the world of Terindale is still forming in my imagination, much of it is already canon—fixed by what’s been written. Geography becomes consequence. The world turns into record.

Arlinstead is etched in stone—a coastal stronghold of prosperity and zeal, built on ritual and ritualism.
The Ashen Lands smolder in the distance—tribal, fractured, cloaked in vengeance.
The Covenant Stone, wherever it lies, has already cracked the story in half—and maybe the land with it.

But geography in Terindale is never just names.
Movement is meaning.
Direction carries weight.
And roads often say more than any map ever could.

To the northwest lies Lorn—a fortress of shadowed loyalties and political ambition.
To the northeast, the hills still remember blood—where a battle ended one age and left another unfinished.
To the south, Kinlan waits—quiet and weathered, a village left untouched not by peace, but by neglect.
And to the far east, beyond the coast, Arlinstead shines—bright with fervor, robed in zeal... and shadow.

At the center lies the Great Forest—a vast chasm of timber and time. Few pass through. Fewer return unchanged.
Most take the main roads—spokes on a wheel. Safe. Predictable. Slow.

But my characters are not most people.

They take the forgotten ways. The half-swallowed trails, gnarled with roots and memory. The kind that bend stories dangerously—and refuse to leave travelers unchanged.

This kind of storytelling demands care. It forces me to reread—not to rewrite—but to remember.
To honor what’s already been chosen.

Because in Terindale, precision matters.
And in writing—as in life—every step leads somewhere.

More volumes will come. The map will stretch.
But one thing won’t change: every word I publish is a commitment.
A choice.
And, I hope, the makings of a meaningful story.

— Matthew D. Riven

📖 Visit my website to explore more of Terindale.

The Shattered Covenant, Volume 1: Seeds of Discontent