"it is the way of Ghur that the mighty consume the weak, as true as for the stone as it is the flesh. They measure the chase not in moment but in the passings of the seasons, the kill in the crushing of stone cliff against island paradise until nought remains but the mighty continents. Only the strongest survive in the Realm of Beasts"
Nestled in the Crashing Gulf of the Realm of Beasts the Cirsian Isles is as intrinsically Ghur as any landmass of the Realm, rather than a mighty predator continent seeking to devour all others it is the elusive prey isle, able to shift and writhe free from the sight of predators only to appear from unexpected quarter. Much to the frustration of the cartographers guild this seems to manifest itself in a highly imprecise location of the island, ever shifting unwilling to be pinned down, many a treasure hunter seeking to plunder the riches of the Garden of Cirsi have found themselves adrift on the sea without any land in sight.
Legend tells that the Cirsian Isles were once a part of a far greater landmass, and upon this fertile land the Queen of Spites cultivated a seed unlike any other. A binding world root, that spread like wildfire across the grounds before her erupting forth a garden as beautiful as it was deadly, here every petal bore a razors edge and every sweet scent masked a venom. The slumbering souls of the continent could feel the attack upon their independance keenly enough to take action unseen since the age of myth, great tremoured causing havoc to those who had built their cities upon the shores as the stone itself sought to shake free the Garden of Cirsi.
The force exerted send waves as high as mountains flooding across the Realm, depositing the Queens prized plants across the length and bredth of Ghur, worse still her Garden was wrenched free of the continent and set adrift across the sea that its roots might not bend the realm itself to her will.
This Garden of Paradise has drifted upon the Ghurish seas ever since, the Cirsian Sylvaneth travelling their fledgling World Root networks to gather rare plants and dying fauna from the mainland to remain within the Queens domain that it might become a tapestry of life that the Greater Realms were undeserving of. So too did the last vestiges of dying cultures, those for whom the Queen of Spites stood witness over their extinction event, get drawn upon the island that their warriors might live on amongst the garden of bounty and upon their dying breath transform into her loyal Spites to guard paradise eternal.
Some say that every tree upon the island houses the sleeping soul of a warrior who has earnt their final rest, one that they could find nowhere else in the Realms save beneath the Queens watchful gaze. Others however murmur of Alarielles plan, sending her prized collector out into the Realms to gather an army and set it to slumber until she sees fit to call upon them, if this were found to be true then to wake this sleeping island would be to bring the war of life upon Ghur.