In the time before the shape of Sacred Space had been settled and the gods worked creation freely, when Encompiat was whole and divine passions ran hot as galaxies, the gods cleft countless rifts in the fabric of space. Later, followers of the deity Rovautus, forced into exile as his compatriot Ivactus spurned him in her zeal against demons, took up residence in one such rift - an old garrison of Rovautus' loyal angels, shrouded by a thick nebula in a sector often passed over by the pantheon's watchful gaze. Like many rifts, its boundaries are hazy and bleed over heavily into the Drowse, the phantasmagoric netherworld behind the orderly veil of the mortal realm woven by Altear, but it is also a place that touches the edge of many other realms, a waystation for lost and weary travelers - and other forces - making their way across the back alleys of reality.

The Redoubt is littered with megastructures, colossal engineering projects of unknown forces in ages long past that have been overtaken by the Drowse, or perhaps were carved from it, long ago. Though this makes them hostile to exploration, they are also home to a number of captured worlds that support a more mundane existence where travelers can rest. Here, many outcast nations of the Redoubt make home in secret, subsisting on a trickle of illicit trade with the wider multiverse, the angels' favor, and strange prizes delved from alien dreams.

 CacklingCoyote