In many ways the heart of Eastern Valnwall, the majestic ruins of Mor and the nearby town of Lesserton offer some of the best –and worst– that the region has to offer. No adventurer traveling to these lands would pass up an opportunity to delve the sprawling rubble of Mor, or to enjoy the spoils from his efforts in Lesserton’s gambling halls, fleshpots, and taverns.
A peek at some art from Steve Zieser:
Brinkley’s began generations back as a ransom broker for adventurers, and still makes much profit from that business. A mercenary or delver who fears capture or defeat can deposit his own ransom with Brinkley’s. The institution takes a small payment and provides a bronze pin, engraved with a picture of a bee and a unique, three-digit number. Together, the clerk and the customer pick two passwords: one to indicate that the bearer of the pin is entitled to the ransom, another to indicate that ransom should not be paid, perhaps because the captive customer is being maltreated. To users of the no-pay password, however, clerks reveal the existence and size of the ransom.
In the Ruins of Mor, most intelligent denizens recognize the pins and may prefer to capture someone wearing one instead of killing him. To ransom a prisoner, the captors send a representative to Brinkley’s with the pin and its matching password. Generally, they then release the prisoner, but keep his gear. The Brinkley’s customer can specify more guarantees than just his life: for example, promising a reward of 100 gp, or 150 gp if he’s allowed to keep his arms. Brinkley’s records all such details with the customer’s file.
“Lesserton, a swampbound and sinful town. Lesserton exists only to support and exploit those who explore the vast ruins of the ancient city of Mor.”
The Ruins of Mor, the vast, sprawling remains of a once great city-state. And Lesserton, the seedy town on the edge of the swamp that feeds off those who brave the ruins in search of fortune and glory. First supplying the adventurers with what they need to recover riches, then depriving them of their coin with all manner of diversions and scams.
(A working draft)
Far back in history, eastern Valnwall knew great wars among elves, orcs and humans. Today, most of the land lies under the plow. Cleared settlements and their hundreds of surrounding farming villages, too small to map, house well over 100,000 humans and several thousand halflings, plus a smattering of other races. No human knows how many elves live among the remaining trees of the once-great Alfpine Forest, which still covers much of eastern Valnwall. Educated folk guess that their numbers are few. They emerge to trade at Feyport, a wooded town overlooking a narrow beach. The Wood Elf King holds court deep among the trees and does not welcome visitors. Peasants tread cautiously in the fringes of the woods, for fear of crossing the invisible bounds of his influence.
Chief metropolis of the region, Bay City commands a huge fleet of trade and fishing vessels from its sheltered harbor, where the Ironflood River empties into Cobble Bay. Bay City ships salt cod all over Valnwall and indeed far beyond. Steep cliffs line most of the southern shore; at an accessible point, Scuttleton rivals Bay City in fishery, but its small harbor suffers exposure to storms. Kaye Town, second in size, hosts the main agricultural market, and its annual Harvest Festival draws thousands. Up north, hilly Renneton produces the finest cheeses, not far from the armed outpost of Fort Norbury. Towns along the Ironflood, like Nahm and Sanford, collect timber from the western Alfpine and float great log-rafts down to Bay City.
To the northeast, scattered humanoids crawl inhospitable mountains like fleas on an old dog. Giant Mt. Rotten is the center of orc population and the source of many past invasions. Humans don’t build close to these mountains anymore, with the exception of Lesserton, a swampbound and sinful town. Lesserton exists only to support and exploit those who explore the vast ruins of the ancient city of Mor.
E.V.T.S. 