image of adventurers facing a ruined castle on a mountain

Welcome to Skazka

Skazka is a world shaped by forgotten myths, ruthless gods, and ancient magic. From haunted necropolises to whispering jungles, Skazka is a place where every shadow holds a story, and every path promises mystery, danger, and transformation.

At its core, Skazka is a living narrative: immersive, richly textured, and deeply atmospheric. The world blends Slavic, Norse, and original mythologies into something new—something strange, lyrical, and menacing. The name itself, "Skazka," is derived from the Russian word for "fairy tale," but the tales here are anything but comforting. Instead, they are blood-soaked, ironic, and often tragic, where happy endings are hard-won — if they come at all.

Players and readers enter Skazka through the eyes of complex characters — like the Thief, darting through city alleys in search of survival; the Witchling, bartering with spirits in the deep, enchanted woodlands; or the Warlord, weighed down by duty, standing before the bones of the dead. These individuals inhabit a world full of lore: sentient forests, cursed relics, crumbling empires, and gods that walk the earth.

But Skazka is not only a setting — it’s a tone, a philosophy of storytelling. It asks you to embrace ambiguity, to question what’s real, and to find beauty in the strange and the broken. It rewards those who pay attention to detail and aren't afraid to dive into morally gray choices.

Whether you're here to read its tales, play within its systems, or build your own stories in its shadowy corners, Skazka invites you in with a warning: in this world, magic has a price, and not every monster looks like one.

Dare to enter. Skazka awaits.

image of a little girl thief

The Thief

Back where the soldier began his journey, the streets of Calarium are choked with the dust from passing horses and carts. A small child weaves through a crowd of merchants and soft skinned gentry. Spotting her mark, she approaches confidently. With practiced ease she feigns a trip and bumps into the unsuspecting gem cutter. With an apology she pushes away from the man, but not empty handed. The concealed blade in one hand has liberated a purse of its strings. Stepping casually away from the crowd she slips into a darkened alleyway to assess her work. Only five gold coins. Not bad, but not enough to get her to Ku'Than. That will have to wait, for now.

image of a young witch with a fairy in a bottle

The Witchling

A three week journey away the beggar's sister stifles in the humidity of Ku'Than's forested canopy. Insects constantly gnaw at her ankles and the sweat stings her eyes. Her companion, a small white owl, hoots impatiently. She bends down to retrieve the bottle that is the focus of her task. Inside, a tiny winged creature flutters and bashes the glass in frustration, its lips mouthing silent curses. The Witchling wonders what will become of the fairy; her mistress and mentor is oft cruel. "I won't be like that when I'm a full witch", she tells herself.

an image of a warrior carrying the ashes of a fallen comrade

The Warlord

A lone adventurer steps off the longboat that has taken him to the necropolis of Dargav. The aging jetty creaks underfoot and the forest seems to mimic the sound. A crow lands on a nearby branch to judge the visitor. It caws, perhaps in approval? Clutching the urn he has brought here, the warrior takes a deep breath and steps forward. This place is hallowed so he must tread carefully.