Эренланд: Северный Эренланд

Северный Эренланд

The Northlands are a wide expanse of grassy plains that reaches from the frozen steppes of the frontier in the north to the windswept shores of the Sea of Pelluria in the south, and from Erethor in the west to the foothills of the Kaladruns in the east. At first glance, the vast region seems a desolate one, with nothing but tall grass and rolling hills as far as the eyes can see, interrupted only occasionally by stands of hearty northern trees. In truth, there is much life here, and nature finds a surprising number of ways to inhabit these lands.
Six species of sword grass dominate the flora. Stiff and hardy, the plant grows up to 3 feet tall and provides food for the abundant herds of caribou and skarpin in the north and elk along the Sea of Pelluria. Smaller animals abound, including rabbits, grunts, and chukas, and predators such as wolves and grass cats make good use of this prey.
Orc grass dominates the prairie in and around the deep valley of the Ishensa River, growing up to 10 feet in height. Tunnel-like animal paths form crisscrossing warrens through the shadowed underlayers of this grassy wilderness, and the once-wide roads kept open by heavy caravans have long since grown over. The region is a trackless forest of grass, as mysterious in its own way as any elven wood.
The Ishensa River flows into the Pelluria, a vast freshwater sea that is also fed by the rushing Torbrun in the east and the rich Gamaril in the west. The Sea of Pelluria fills the heart of Erenland and is the natural southern border of the Northlands. It is a central ecological feature of Eredane and influences climate, weather patterns, and flora across the continent. The sea is as varied in its forms and moods as the great oceans, and in the winter, it can raise up terrible gales. Its northern shore is a long wall of high limestone bluffs and sea cliffs broken only occasionally by small bays and river estuaries.
Finally, beyond the northern frontier, the sword grass gives way to the cold tundra and frozen foothills beneath the unexplored mountain domain of the Shadow in the North and his orc legions. No elf, dwarf, or human has ever set foot there and returned to tell the tale.
Spring thaws cut narrow ravines into the chalky limestone, making sudden drop-offs and defiles common across the plains. Dangerous seasonal flooding of these streambeds scours them clear of vegetation and enriches the surrounding soil. Summers are short, with rampant blooms of beautiful prairie flowers awash in a sea of green as the rich soil yields up new grass. The winters are long, and many say they are getting longer as the Shadow tightens his grip. Along the shores of the Pelluria, the snows are wet and heavy but usually melt away in dreary winter rains. In the north, along the frontier, the snows start in early fall and lie deep on the land throughout the winter until spring. The air there is chill, and everything lies still and frozen for much of the year.

История

Until the Dornish invasion in the latter part of the First Age, the Northlands were largely uninhabited by any peoples save for a few roving bands of goblin-kin. The dwarves kept to their mountains, the gnomes preferred the southern shores of what in those days was called the Ebon Sea, and the halflings were always creatures of the warm south. Even the elves kept most of their plains outposts south of the Ebon, and the northernmost trade routes were the coastal shipping lanes of the gnomes.
When the Dornish invasion ran its course and peace was established between the humans and the younger fey, the Dorns settled the entire shore of the Pelluria and land well into the northern plains beyond. The hearty soil proved passable farmland for those willing to work the earth and endure the cold, stands of pine and scrub oak provided the wood required for tools, and occasional veins of copper and tin served the Dorns’ basic metalworking skills adequately. The short-lived humans spread like rabbits across the prairie.
The first war with Izrador was a turning point in the history of the Dorns. The Battle of Three Kingdoms was fought in their homeland, and many of their northernmost towns were razed. The Dorns became stout allies of the fey and superior hunters of Izrador’s minions. Dorns with desires for fortune and glory left the peaceful lands around the Sea of Pelluria to make their name fighting the malign god’s minions. The Dorns readily supported construction of the Fortress Wall across their lands and considered it an honor to garrison its keeps; within one hundred years of the beginning of the Second Age, the Northlands had become true home in the heart of the Dornish people.
When the Sarcosans eventually invaded and conquered the Dorns, they did not break them but instead accepted oaths of fealty and alliance from the Dornish monarchs. The northern plains and the Sea of Pelluria, so costly to make war on and so removed from the Sarcosan beachheads of the south, were to remain the realm of the Dorns. Later, that chance at retaining their pride and honor was repaid as Dorns and Sarcosans joined forces to throw off the yoke of the Old Empire from which the Sarcosans had come. The north then became not just a colony of an empire far removed, but a part of the Kingdom of Erenland.
But while the threat from across the sea was being dealt with, the Shadow in the North gathered his strength. Though the forces of the free peoples of Eredane would ultimately be victorious, the second war with Izrador would prove too much for the Dorns to bear. The cost in human lives and resources would leave northern Erenland to sink into a grim thousand-year age of social decay and civil war. By the time the Northlands were again invaded by the Shadow’s armies, there was too little left of the proud warrior traditions of the Dornish knights to stand against Izrador’s hordes.
Now, in the Last Age, the Northlands are a broken land, and the Dorns are a broken people. Most of the Dorns’ great cities lie in ruins, inhabited by frightened and starving peasants. Orc legions have settled across the plains and now occupy the towns and castles of the Great Houses of the Dorns. The proud Dornish trade fleets have been either sunk or refitted for war by the Shadow legions. The few lands still under human control are ruled by traitor princes, Dornish lords so greedy or afraid for their own skins they have sworn fealty to Izrador and govern only at the pleasure of the Night Kings. Every year, more Dorns pledge their swords to the Shadow and join his baleful armies, some seeking power and a better life, others simply hoping for a few more crusts of bread and some coins for their families.
The few truehearted Dornish royals who survive have taken to the plains or the open Sea of Pelluria, where they now live as outlaws. From these refuges, they attack the Shadow’s army encampments, raid sellout settlements, and sink enemy transport ships at every opportunity. They seek and expect little more from life than the chance to kill a few more of Izrador’s minions and regain some small measure of their honor before they die.

Население

Most of the people who still live in the Northlands are Dorns. They are a hearty people, wild of hair and eye, quick to laugh, and quicker to anger. Every Dorn in the Northlands can trace their heritage from one of the Great Houses of the Dorns, and they were once proud of the blood of the Dornish monarchs that flows in their veins. Now that pride is lost, as the houses that resisted the Shadow have been crushed and their leaders killed or scattered. Dornish royals who remain are pawns of Izrador, ruling over a land without honor and a people without hope.
Along the northern shores of the Pelluria, people with both Dorn and Sarcosan ancestry are more common. These people feel less loyalty to the traditional houses of the Dorns and instead, for what it is worth in these grim days, think of themselves more as true Erenlanders: inheritors of the vast kingdom formed from the union of their ancestors’ cultures. They are survivors, first and foremost, and while their heritage is younger than that of the Dorns, their pride is often just as keen. They long not for what once was, perhaps, but rather for what should have been.
There are few fey in the Northlands anymore. The once-common elven traders and dwarven craftspeople have all been hunted down by the legates of the Order of Shadow or have long since fled to their homelands. Few halflings ever migrated this far north, but gnomes are not uncommon, having earned themselves an uneasy status as conquered minions of the Shadow.
Perhaps six hundred thousand Dorns remain in the lands between the Fortress Wall and the Sea of Pelluria, the majority living in isolated hamlets. Perhaps a third of these dwell in either the squalor of razed cities such as Highwall or in the occupied towns of the Dornish traitor princes. About fifty thousand people of mixed Dornish and Sarcosan ancestry live along the northern shore of the sea, though they are far more common on the Pellurian’s southern shores. Only a few thousand Sarcosans make their home in these cold and dreary lands, among them the descendants of embassy staffs, political marriages, and collaborators. Finally, approximately ten thousand gnomes brave the rough waters of the northern sea in seasonal raft towns, plying the trade routes between the southern and northern ports.
All along the northern frontier, orc settlements are becoming more common as noncombatants migrate out of their cold mountain lairs into the far more hospitable lands to the south. In some places they have built their own legion encampments, and in others they have simply driven human survivors from their own towns and settled there. About 350,000 orc noncombatants live in the Northlands.

Поселения

The thick limestone that underlies the northern plains is easily quarried and makes excellent construction material. Even the meanest Dornish structures are built of this whitish stone and once stood up well to both the harsh weather and attackers.
In the distant past, most Dorn villages were small collections of farmers’ houses and a few outbuildings, surrounded by crop fields and pastures. The building walls were made of rock quarried from the banks of nearby streams, and the roofs were thatched with sword grass. Larger Dornish towns centered around small keeps, which in turn were surrounded by the houses and shops of the townspeople. The stone from which a town was built was quarried to form a wide ditch around the settlement, and a low wall was typically constructed along the inner edge of this moat. Most such towns typically spanned year-round streams, diverting the water into wells and the protective moats, as well as using it to carry away refuse and waste.
The settlements where the old Dornish rulers built their keeps grew into the largest cities in the Northlands. Most of these were along the Pelluria’s northern shore, standing on high sea cliffs above deep and sheltered harbors. These cities reached their prime under the threat of the Shadow and so were well defended. Their walls featured high towers, deep moats, drawbridges, heavy gates, and other formidable fortifications.
Most Dornish cities and towns, large and small, now lie in ruins. A hundred years ago, the Shadow’s armies swarmed over these lands, laying waste to cities that had stood against them for almost four thousand years. In the frenzy of the Shadow hordes’ bloodlust, the destruction was absolute. The legates’ magic sundered walls, and the Night Kings’ treachery opened gates from within. For the simple joy of the kill, the Shadow hordes ravaged the Northland settlements, burning anything that would flame and killing anything that breathed.
These destroyed settlements are now piles of charred rock and skeletal foundations. The desperate human survivors who still live in these places have cobbled together dwellings from the refuse of the old buildings and huddle together against the cold and the marauding monsters. They scavenge what they can from the ruins, scrape what living they can from the soil, and do their best to hide from the minions of Izrador.
The only large cities still standing whole are those ruled by the traitor princes subverted by Izrador. Many of these petty tyrants are proxies and pretenders without true family loyalties, but worse are those who betrayed their kin simply for the promise of power. The cities they rule, such as Chandering, Bastion, and Port Esben, were spared the sword but now suffer a fate that is perhaps worse still. These craven rulers are the pawns of Izrador, and life in their cities is a fearful existence. There is never enough food, fuel, or medicine. There is little law, and innocents suffer at the hands of the brutal. The Shadow’s fell minions patrol the streets in the name of order but in reality are vicious overlords who abuse, kill, and steal at a whim.
Still, many scattered Northland villages and towns remain whole, too small or isolated to have yet drawn the wrath of the invading armies. In such places, the townsfolk huddle behind their stone walls against the nighttime monsters that have followed the Shadow out of the north, living in constant fear that tomorrow will be the day the legions make their final, killing raid.

Язык

The Dorns speak Norther, a tongue derived from the ancient language the Dornish invaders brought with them from across the sea. It is a harsh and loud tongue, well suited to battle cries and bragging stories but poorly made for calming a crying baby or gentle whispers to a lover. Those living on the northern shores of the Sea of Pelluria can often speak Erenlander, Trader’s Tongue, or sometimes a bit of Colonial. Many also speak a smattering of Orcish, as learning it can be a matter of survival. Many of the Dornish resistance raiders speak some High Elven, having learned it parleying with the elves of the Veradeen for refuge, weapons, and other supplies.

Правительство

Before the Sarcosan invasion and the founding of Erenland, the Dorns were ruled by the Great Houses of the Dorns. The Great Houses represented royal lineages drawn from the barbarian chieftains who ruled the Dorns long before they first came to Eredane. Each house had a long and noble history passed down in songs and stories that even the lowliest members learned as children.
Every Dorn could trace their line to one of the Great Houses and did so with pride and loyalty to their kin. The leaders of each house ruled over their area of the Northlands as feudal monarchs, each with their own lands and subjects, each with their own vassal lords and knights. Through a complex web of oaths and royal marriages, the old rulers of the Dornish Great Houses were bound together in alliance. Though they frequently squabbled among themselves and occasionally even fought short civil wars, they were always staunchly allied when threatened from the outside.
When the Sarcosans conquered the Dorns and eventually founded the Kingdom of Erenland, the Dornish royal houses found that swearing fealty to the young Kalif Kari was less painful than they had expected. The Sarcosan culture placed as much importance on oaths and honor as did any Dornish tradition, though words and concessions were used to settle disputes more often than steel and bloodshed. Seeing the benefit of this system and having little choice besides, the Dorns made their oaths to the southerners. In return for their wisdom and proffered loyalty, the Sarcosans granted them leave to keep their proud traditions and to rule the north as loyal vassals of Erenland.
It was not until the second war with Izrador that the ancient foundations of house alliances and honored oaths began to crack. In the end, the cost of the war was simply too much for the Northlands to bear. Through the Third Age, hardship became suffering, suffering became anger, and anger turned to war. Many of the descendants of the old Dornish monarchs, yearning for the glory they heard in tale and song, declared their independence from the Kingdom of Erenland. The Sarcosans, whom the Dorns had once seen as respected lords and honorable allies, now became scapegoats and enemies, accused of manipulation, backstabbing, and corruption. In truth, the Sarcosan system had always included equal measures of honor and intrigue in which both the strong and the clever might rise to power, but it was only in a search for foes that this other facet was brought to the Dorns’ attention and made villainous.
Rather than uniting to throw off their southern conquerers, however, the young Dornish monarchs became victims of their own pride and vanity. No sooner were alliances formed than infighting and petty squabbles arose, quickly turning bloody as the Northlands descended into civil war. For hundreds of years, the Great Houses fought among themselves. Houses loyal to Erenland and the kalif were arrayed against those claiming independence. Alliances formed and were broken. Assassinations and single combats took a toll on house leadership. Continued fighting further drained the fighting power and treasuries of already bankrupt kingdoms and plunged their peoples into deeper despair. In this wretched time, the Northlands were fertile ground for the minions of the Shadow. During these years of civil conflict, hatred, and mistrust, the fallen god sowed the seeds of betrayal, forming pacts and alliances that would eventually isolate and weaken the Dornish clans, allowing Izrador’s forces to take the Northlands almost uncontested.
Now the Great Houses are only shattered remnants of their former glory. Many royal lines have been systematically wiped out, either by agents of the Night Kings or by old enemies acting on long-held grudges. Other heirs to the old monarchs have been forced into hiding or have become outlaw royals, fighting a futile resistance against Izrador’s forces.

Религия

The Dorns were ancestor worshippers long before they came to Eredane, and their descendants have inherited their traditions. They do have a vague mythology that recognizes a band of sibling gods who rule over various esoteric realms far beyond the mortal world, but it is their own departed ancestors whom they believe have power over the affairs of the living. This is the reason the Dorns are so concerned with their honor. They believe that if they act dishonorably, they may incur the wrath of departed kin who will not only bring them foul luck in this world but will also bring them disgrace, punishment, and eternal servitude in the hereafter.
Like all peoples of Eredane, the Dorns have had to make allowances for the rise of the Fell, but death ceremonies remain solemn and important traditions. In the days before the risen dead, the Dorns erected rings of standing stones on the outskirts of their villages. In the center of these structures, they would place large stone biers on which they would cremate their dead. The deceased’s family would then scatter the ashes within the circle and would occasionally visit the ring to make offerings, seek guidance, or simply pay tribute to their ancestors. Though few ever seemed to see shades themselves, every Dorn had a story of someone who had and of the boons a shade had granted them.
Now, in the days of the Fell, a town’s ancestor ring is typically built several miles from the settlement, and though cremations are usually accomplished with enough haste to keep the dead’s body quiet, the circles have become haunted places where the wraiths of the Lost linger. Most Dorns stay well away from the circles after dark, but brave or desperate inhabitants sometimes seek a circle out in hopes of truly speaking with the spirit of a departed relative. Most often, they suffer nothing more than a night of lost sleep. Less frequently, a strange visitation offers the insight they were seeking. On rare occasions, however, the spirits of the circle have suffered the distortion of the dead or have been corrupted by the Shadow, and what a visitor had hoped would be a peaceful vigil becomes a deadly ordeal.
The lingering souls of the Lost have become such problems in the ancestor rings that most towns are forced to build new ones every few years simply to prevent the dangerous accumulation of undead souls. It is advisable, then, when travelers in the Northland plains encounter an abandoned ring of standing stones surrounding a fire-blackened altar, that they be well past the place by nightfall if they do not wish a ghostly and dangerous encounter.

Торговля и ремесло

The Dorns were once famous for their trade fleets that sailed the Pelluria, and their wheat fed the populations on both sides of the sea. Their steelwork was simple but sturdy, and though they never rivaled the Sarcosans in the saddle, their horses grew large and strong and were prized mounts in the south.
Now the economy of the Northlands lies in ruins. The trade fleets either rest on the seafloor or have been commandeered by the legions and refurbished as warships and troop carriers. Trade between the lands of different Great Houses has been banned or taxed so heavily that it is no longer profitable, and most craftspeople have either fled or been enslaved and forced to support the Shadow’s war effort. In some regions, enslaved Dorns work vast farms, growing crops and producing meat to feed the occupying armies. Where the Dorns are not yet enthralled, the Shadow’s orcs make frequent raids, stealing whatever food and livestock they find and killing or arresting anyone who resists.
Because the skilled practitioners of crafts have mostly been killed or enslaved, there is no one to teach those valuable skills, nor to repair or acquire the equipment necessary to perform them. Dorns therefore tend to wear mended rags and go barefoot. Glass and tanned leather goods are uncommon, and metal tools are becoming priceless. Salt and medicines are almost nonexistent, and wood products are increasingly rare, as there are few carpenters to make them, no wood imports from which to build them, and a constant hunger for fuel to stave off the cold.

Пути и традиции

First and foremost in Dornish culture were the Great Houses that ruled the people.

House Davin

House Davin ruled from the city of Davindale near the mouth of the Ishensa River. The kingdom’s economic strength lay in its vast wheat and corn-producing lands. House Davin was also known for taking the lion’s share of the responsibility for garrisoning the easternmost Dornish keeps of the Fortress Wall. House Davin was the sworn enemy of the depraved Prince Gregor of House Chander. When Gregor gained his baleful reward for betraying his fellow Dornish royals to the Night Kings, his first act was to send a demonic horde to raze Davin Keep and kill everyone within. As far as anyone knows, the royal family of House Davin is now extinct.

House Dale

House Dale was one of the few Great Houses whose seat of power was not on the shores of the Sea of Pelluria. Its house’s keep was in the northern town of Riismark, and it supported its people by supplying the Fortress Wall citadels and running trade caravans across the frontier.
House Dale was a proud line, loyal to Dornish traditions and to the realm of Erenland. The entire Dale clan resisted the Shadow to the end. Now the survival of any heirs may only be hopeful rumor.

House Sedrig

House Sedrig was the most diversified economic power on the Pelluria. It had a large trade fleet, rich agricultural lands, trade caravans, and a virtual monopoly on trade with the scholars’ city of Highwall. Though its house keep was in the small port town of White Cliff, most of its government and business concerns were administered from Highwall.
No one knows what happened to the Sedrig royal family, but many suspect they were put to the sword when Highwall fell. Their loss is mourned, for they were among the noblest of the Dornish clans.

House Norfall

The Norfall clan claimed the greatest sailors of the Sea of Pelluria, and its ancestors are said to have been first humans from the continent of Pelluria to set foot in Eredane. Its kingdom was based on a strong navy and large shipping fleet. House Norfall employed many gnome barge pilots and crew, and it was among the few Great Houses to sail river runners down the Eren. Its seat of their power was in Fallport, along the Sea of Pelluria’s northwestern shore.
Captain Jaden Norfall is the eldest heir to the crown of House Norfall, and she and her kin have become known as the Pirate Princes. Having taken to the open sea aboard their surviving ships, the remaining Dorns of House Norfall live a pirate existence, capturing Shadow legion ships and coming ashore only to raid occupied towns. The clan has a number of secret seaport sanctuaries in the Corbron Isles, and it is said that the pirate fleet grows with each passing year as Dorns and gnome sailors alike rally to the Norfall banner.

House Redgard

House Redgard ruled over a vast region of the far north and was known for its rice, salted meats, and fine horses. The house seat was in the city of Cale. Though Cale was sacked in the first war with Izrador and was the target of long sieges in the second, it did not fall until the end of the Third Age. Its strong walls and proud defenders were of no use in the last war, as it was betrayed from within and razed by the release of a horrible demonic power. Whatever that force was, it is said to still lurk in the ruins of the city, contentedly supping on the memories of that single glorious night of feasting one hundred years ago.
Roland Redgard is the last surviving heir of House Redgard and leads a growing nomad band of horse raiders who survive off what they can steal and live for each kill they inflict upon their foes. They are a boon to the few remaining free Northland settlements and a bane to the traitor princes and their Night King overlords. They have built a valuable alliance with the elves of the Veradeen, trading them information, horses, and diversionary raids in return for arrows, healing elixirs, hearthstones, and the occasional forest refuge.

House Chander

House Chander was one of the weakest of the Great Houses and was always discontented with its place among the other Dornish principalities. Its capital city, Chandering, was a tiny port off the main trade routes. Other Dornish royals felt the Chander court had become as full of intrigue as the courts of the Sarcosan sussars. The royal family had a tradition of underhanded dealings and conniving to set the other houses against each other.
When the emissaries of the Shadow offered Prince Gregor Chander power over his rivals, the temptation was too great. The craven man made a pact with the fallen god; he swore fealty to the Shadow in exchange for demonic magic and unnatural long life. His betrayal of the other Great Houses began with the murder of the entire Davin royal line in 895 TA. He directed the agents who subverted House Redgard’s city of Cale and sent troops to fight beside the orc legions at Highwall, Low Rock, and Fallport. As he continues to serve the Shadow and his power increases, so does his fury at the continued resistance of his Dornish cousins. He has sworn to kill each of the outlaw princes himself and offer their warm hearts to his vile master in sacrifice.

House Falon

House Falon was once a powerful house known for its its warcraft and skill at tracking and eliminating bands of raiders from the north. Its capital of Steel Hill was among the youngest of the Dornish capital cities. Steel Hill was founded when Gerad the Northsword built a new house keep there to stand as one of the citadels in the Fortress Wall of the Northern Marches. Only beaten by Low Rock and House Orin, the mines of House Falon provided the Dorns with most of their iron. The city became known for its smiths and armorers, and it was a great loss to the Erenland war effort when it was betrayed to the Shadow. House Falon’s last heir, Brina the Red, died defending her city, trapped outside her own walls by traitorous soldiers.

House Pendor

Tabel Pendor was an honorable man whose only concern was for the welfare of the people of House Pendor. His house keep was in the plains city of Bastion, and his people were such able farmers and ranchers that his kingdom was known as the Pantry of the Northlands.
In the closing years of the Third Age, as Izrador’s agents spun their webs of betrayal and warped promise across the north, Pendor became increasingly fearful that his people were certain to suffer terribly if they resisted the Shadow. In his despair, Pendor eventually convinced himself that allying with Izrador would be the best way to protect his people. When his pact with the Shadow was made known, the apparent betrayal drove his outraged people to resist the Shadow legions when they came to Bastion. The battle for the city was short, the resistance was crushed, and many thousands were killed. Seeing what his efforts had wrought, Tabel took his own life rather than face the consequences. House Pendor and its lands are now ruled by a corrupt Sarcosan prince named Sameal. Prince Sameal’s subjects despise him but fear his enforcers. Deeply oppressed, they work ceaselessly in the vast fields of the Pendor lands, growing crops and raising livestock to feed Izrador’s armies but allowed little food for themselves—and fewer freedoms. Despising the memory of Tabel, many of his former people refuse to claim their Pendor heritage.

House Esben

House Esben was always a minor house, but it was ruled by a good family from the capital city of Port Esben. House Esben had a small trade fleet and benefited from contracts with House Pendor that gave it shipping rights to the greater part of Pendor’s agricultural trade.
In 886 TA, Vildar Esben ascended to the throne of House Esben. He was a capricious and thoroughly unpleasant man who suspected treachery at every turn and treated underlings cruelly. However, he was always wise enough to treat and reward his military captains well and enjoyed their staunch support. With his coronation, his obsessions and paranoia grew increasingly pronounced. His terrible depressions became debilitating, and his paranoid delusions led to more than one bloody purge of his court. By the time the agents of Izrador came to Vildar with their twisted promises, he was already far beyond the pale and readily allied with the Shadow. In exchange for the vile magic that keeps him alive even today, Vildar has become a willing and enthusiastic minion of the malign god. His cruelty and vicious temper have been responsible for the deaths of thousands of Dorns, and his subjects who have not fled to other lands live in constant and abject fear.

The Southern Houses

Some of the Great Houses made their fortunes and their homes on the southern shores of the Sea of Pelluria. While of Dornish heritage and Dorns at heart, these Great Houses were more heavily influenced by Sarcosan culture than their northern kin. It was among these houses that the Erenlanders, combining Sarcosan and Dorn cultures, came into their own. More about these houses, which include House Baden, House Orin, and House Torbault, can be found on page 148.

House clans

Though every Dorn traces their heritage to one of the Great Houses, each is also a member of smaller clans within each house. These groups are large, extended families that define a Dorn’s more immediate relations and loyalties. Most of these smaller clans existed as loyal lines of their respective Great Houses, some were nefarious, and others found distinction in service to their lesser liege lords. Clans like the Mahalds of House Davin and the Calders of House Pendor are still famous for their historic military accomplishments. The Alard clan of House Sedrig was always rumored to be the wealthiest family on the Sea of Pelluria, and whenever a tale of daring, romance, and villainous intrigue is told, the Doval clan of House Baden and the Podrick clan of House Chander seem to supply the main characters.
Though house allegiance was once the cornerstone of a Dorn’s honor, the grim, turbulent times and betrayals of the Last Age have served to realign this obligation. Now, for most Dorns, their extended families take precedence over historical house allegiance, and their actions are often governed by the survival and ambitions of their individual clans.

Personal combat

The Dorns have a long tradition of honor combat between champions. In their earliest history, this always assured that the most powerful warriors would lead the clans. In the golden ages of the Great Houses in Eredane, it assured that grudges and quarrels could be settled without the houses involved going to war. Though the practice long ago fell from favor as a means to arbitrate political and legal disagreements, it remained a common way to settle matters of honor and sometimes even to head off a battle before the blood of countless warriors might be shed. In the dark age before the final fall of the Northlands, it became a foul means by which rivals battered each other’s reputations, or worse still, carried out what amounted to sanctioned assassinations.
In traditional honor fights, the challenger would call out the challenged by sending them a broken dagger. The challenger’s second would deliver the dagger, state the nature of the offense, and wait for formal acceptance. To accept the challenge, the offender would replace the broken dagger with a whole blade. To reject a challenge was to brand oneself craven and forswear one’s honor. Once the challenge was accepted, the arrangements would be made, the principals would meet with their seconds, and they would commence fighting. Such duels were typically fought with dulled blades and were seldom to the death unless grievous offense had been made. At worst, most such fights ended in a broken arm and wounded pride.
In the years of civil strife leading up to the fall of Erenland, it became common for such challenges to be made as strategic moves in the ongoing conflict. Greater warriors would challenge and kill weaker ones, and unskilled fighters would contrive circumstances to put superior seconds in their places to kill stronger opponents. Much good Dornish blood was spilled in these duels, and many knights were culled as a direct result. Many Dorns now look back at that time and suspect the hand of Izrador was at work in this. There are few with the will and honor left to fight duels, and even these few now seldom enact the tradition, knowing that it only serves to further weaken the Dornish houses.

Против Тени

Four kinds of humans live in the Northlands: enslaved captives, fearful villagers, vile collaborators, and traitors, and those still fighting against the forces of Izrador. Those who work against the Shadow covertly or overtly are the last hope of the Dornish people, and it is within the ranks of this resistance that the new heroes of the Northlands are born.

Roland’s raiders

In the wild northwestern plains, there is a growing band of outlaws known as Roland’s Raiders. Once only a few stalwart souls, this ragged army of soldiers on horseback has grown to a force of more than three thousand. Led by Roland, heir to House Redgard, these fierce and experienced fighters are an increasingly painful thorn in the side of the Shadow’s armies. Roland’s Raiders are all excellent riders and can cover great distances quickly. They strike targets and then vanish instantly into the wilds, only to strike again a few days later but many leagues away. They raid supply caravans, kill soldiers, assassinate officers, and burn encampments. They steal most of what they need to survive, but many of the smaller, isolated villages offer them what food and supplies they can.
Roland’s Raiders have earned the respect of the elves of Erethor and trade tactical raids and information for weapons and magic. Roland has also secured permission to take refuge in the fringes of Erethor when in need. The raiders are a noble band, but each and every one is certain they will lose their life in the fight—and each and every one has already asked their departed ancestors to prepare them a place in the afterlife’s circle of heroes. Roland of Redgard, the last of the heirs of House Redgard, is the band’s charismatic leader. Roland is barely more than a boy, having just turned nineteen. He is small for his people, but he has a fierce look in his eyes that gives larger resistance fighters pause. He rides like a Sarcosan and is a natural tactician. He has been called out to single combat more times than he can remember and refuses to kill even the most aggressive challenger. Instead, he beats them senseless, and when they recover, he often asks them to join his raiders. Oddly, most accept, eventually becoming rabidly loyal to the young leader. Though many have tried to convince Roland to wear his father’s crown, he refuses to do so in exile, swearing he will only accept the throne when the Northlands are once again free.

Secret War

A well was poisoned in the heart of Port Esben, and more than two hundred of Izrador’s orcs died before it was discovered. Not a single Dorn was affected. The traitor lord Tala Maden’s warehouse in Bastion was burned and rebuilt three times before she was finally forced to keep her personal resources stacked in the halls of Pendor Keep. Legion ships in Chandering seem to sink while docked with greater frequency than those at sea. Orc officers ignore their broken and silent kitchen slaves, yet outlaw bands and smugglers always seem to know when legion troops are about to make a raid. Such small sabotages may be quiet and lack the honor of swinging a sword in combat, but over the years, this hidden war has been more costly to Izrador’s army than any other single campaign.

Места и особенности

These are several notable locations of the north.

Barrens

The village of Barrens was once a typical Dornish town. It was a busy way station along the caravan supply lines that supported the Fortress Wall and was an exceptionally productive farming community. Barrens fell to foul sorcery when the forces of the Shadow overran the region. During one terrible night of infernal magic, the entire village — its inhabitants, buildings, livestock, even its trees and grass — was turned to stone. The grotesque statuary remains a mute testament to the horror and terrible power of the Shadow.

Bastion

Bastion is the seat of House Pendor, though few of that line still claim the heritage. Since the apparent betrayal of Prince Tabel and the fall of Erenland, the city has been little more than a massive farm worked by enslaved captives, producing much of the food needed to feed Izrador’s hordes.
Vicious enforcers crush the populace under iron heels, forcing even children to backbreaking labor in the fields surrounding the city. Escape is difficult, and attempts are punished with brutal executions: captured escapees are nailed upside down to tall poles scattered among the fields, then left to die and rot, or perhaps to continue their screaming as Fell.

Cale

Cale was once a large city built in the limestone block-and-wall tradition of the old Dornish monarchs. It was a good city ruled by a good family. It served as the western overwinter stop for many trade caravans and so had a cosmopolitan culture that belied its provincial location. It was surrounded by open plains, countless livestock ranches, and horse farms, and it was an important regional trading post when caravans came to town.
All this ended when the city fell in the early days of the Shadow’s third invasion. Having stood strong for thousands of years, Cale fell overnight, betrayed by agents of the Shadow who loosed the demonic spirit Vorzelem within the city. Nothing escaped the demon’s wrath. It slaughtered everyone who had not already fled the Shadow hordes and smashed every building to rubble with terrible, sundering magic.
Now the city lies in absolute ruin, haunted by the Lost and stalked by the walking dead that resulted from the carnage. Vorzelem reigns over these tortured souls and has turned Cale and the surrounding lands into a demonic refuge within which even the Shadow’s armies are now afraid to travel. Hunting packs of the city’s Fell now raid farther to find sustenance, attacking orcs and humans alike.

Chandering

Chandering stands in the hills above a small bay on the eastern shore of the Pelluria. It was always a small city off the primary north-shore trade routes and therefore was never as wealthy or powerful as its ruling family would have liked. The house keep sits atop the tallest hill, and the surrounding city cascades down lesser hills to its waterfront on the protected southern shore of the bay. While the castle is one of the largest and most elaborate on the Sea of Pelluria’s coastline, the rest of the city’s buildings are modest and packed closely together.
Since the betrayal of Gregor Chander, the town has been reformed. Historically, the only defense works had been around the keep. Now a massive wall of stone surrounds the entire community, and five high towers watch over the harbor, the town center, the gates and approaching roads, and Chander Keep itself. Soldiers of the Shadow’s legions patrol the city and garrison the castle. Collaborator-captained ships fill the harbor, from which they raid coastal villages for food and captives and hunt the pirate fleet of House Norfall.
The people of Chandering live a nightmare parody of their former lives. Gregor plays at being the great Dornish ruler, demanding fealty and service from his subjects. Their existence, however, is dismal, and they live in constant fear and at the whim of their traitor overlord and his minions. Many residents attempt to escape, either overland or in small boats. Most are captured by mercenary enforcers, killed, and then hung to rot from the tower walls as object lessons for the rest of the populace. Life in Chandering is a tale of woe and suffering that foreshadows the eventual fate of all Eredane.

Davindale

Davindale was once the seat of House Davin, a great and respected line among the Dornish kingdoms. When the demons of Prince Gregor the Betrayer razed Davin Keep, they destroyed much of the surrounding city, driving the few inhabitants they did not kill into the countryside.
Old Davindale now stands a mostly empty ruin, though the constantly expanding and receding sprawl of troop barracks has created a new city all its own in the square mile around the docks. Davindale’s docks are critical to the shipment of troops and supplies that flow down the Ishensa River for the armies in the south and host a constant flow of riverboats and seagoing ships. Even the ranks of Izrador’s orc legions seem to fear the demonic residue that hangs over the old city like a mist.

Fallport

Fallport is built in a deep cove set in the midst of high sea cliffs on the northern shore of the Sea of Pelluria. The cove makes a good harbor, and the natural lay of the land made the unique construction of Fallport possible. The cove is a rough semicircle with pointed headlands that protect the harbor against the frequent storms of the northern sea. As the city was constructed, the limestone used to make its buildings was quarried from the shore in rising terraces. Now, centuries after the city was founded, Fallport sits on concentric, stair-like plazas that progress upward and inland from the sea’s edge to the top of the surrounding cliffs. Many of the buildings were carved out of the living stone as much as they were built from blocks. Many buildings also extend deep into the cliff face, and there are rumors that Castle Norfall has hidden chambers and halls that reach far inland underground. Nearer the top of the bluffs, the city is younger and less carefully planned, and most of the buildings have been excavated rather than built up as proof against the cold winter gales.
Fallport was the capital city of House Norfall. When the city fell, its leaders took to the Pelluria with what remained of the Norfall navy. They continue to resist the Shadow on the open sea. The citizens who had not already fled were loaded onto the ships of the Norfall trading fleet, taken south to Baden’s Bluff, and sent ashore with orders to seek refuge deeper in Erenland. The elderly and the young were forced to comply, but being steadfast Norfalls, the fit and able turned many of the trading ships about and sailed north again to join their prince and her pirate fleet.
Fallport is now abandoned by its original inhabitants, but its many underground dwellings were quick to attract an orc population. Now, the city is the southernmost settlement of orc noncombatants in the Northlands. There are perhaps ten thousand members of the Gray Mother Legion living in Norfall, and the city’s shipyard and docks have become important elements in the legions’ war effort. Enslaved Dorns live packed into the waterfront warehouses and are forced to work as fishers, ship builders, and dock workers by whip-wielding goblin overseers.

The Fortress Wall

Though legends abound about the great Fortress Wall of the Northern Marches, there is no doubt that the ancient defense works is a real part of history, and one that played a major role in staving off the Shadow in the Second Age. The Fortress Wall is not a single edifice, but a long chain of forts, keeps, and towers that stretches along the border of the northern frontiers. Built during the heady days following the first defeat of the Shadow, the Wall was a collective effort of the free peoples of Eredane, a testament to their combined strength and their shared fear of Izrador. Any two consecutive forts in the Wall were never more than a few days’ march from each other, and each was built not only as a defensible keep but also a garrison, storage depot, and sally point for patrols and small armies. The Wall served as a military barrier, keeping the marauding remains of the fallen god’s forces safely at bay in the north and as a means to contain any future rise of the Shadow.
For more than a thousand years after the first war, the Fortress Wall served its purpose, supporting the armies of the free peoples and defending the south. When the Shadow rose again at the end of the Second Age, the Fortress Wall stood fast against it, a vital force in stemming the foul tide of Izrador’s second invasion. The Fortress Wall of the Northern Marches was lauded in song and story. Broken stone was rebuilt, ramparts recrewed, and vigilance redoubled—and time passed. Years became centuries, and as can happen during long periods of peace, allies began to squabble, and princes found better uses for their gold than rebuilding fortress walls and feeding idle soldiers. Failing treaties, mistrust, civil war, and decaying economies conspired with the insidious corruption of Izrador to bring down the Fortress Wall. Repairs were neglected, and the more remote keeps were abandoned. Standing soldiers mustered out, and conflicts between neighbors drew away the armies that remained. Raiders in league with Izrador plundered and razed many of the understaffed keeps and took over others, along with the abandoned forts, turning them to their own grim uses. Izrador’s orcs rebuilt many, making them forward outposts from which they could raid nearby lands and prepare for the eventual war to come.
By the end of the Third Age, the Wall had become a broken and useless defense. Many keeps had fallen to rubble or been plundered and burned. Those that were still garrisoned were overrun and quickly fell to the hordes that poured out of the north. Many were taken by the Shadow and used by his armies against the free peoples of the south in just the same way the forts were once used against them.
Today the ruins of the Fortress Wall are a bitter legacy, standing like a row of broken teeth across a desolate land. Most of the keeps are gone, lost to the ravages of war and time. A few are still held by forces of the Shadow, but even most of the battlements they took were abandoned as the armies moved south. Some have been conquered by wild bands of goblin-kin, who live there in feral squalor. Some have been taken over by Dorn squatters and turned into fortified villages against the horrors of the night. Many have become haunts of the undead or other foul creatures who see no gain to be had by following Izrador.
A few of the original Wall forts are still held by the elves or dwarves. Where the Wall passes through the northern evergreens of Erethor, there are still elven fortifications built of living trees, held by soldiers and wildlander scouts loyal to the Witch Queen. In the Icewall Mountains, the dwarves keep a number of their old forts battle ready, isolated though they are from their kin and often bypassed by the Shadow’s forces altogether.
The citadels of the Fortress Wall were by no means similar in design, layout, or construction, and the lands on which they were built varied as much as the forts themselves. Many of the Erenlander keeps were tall, fortified towers built in the open northern steppes. Water-filled moats and iron-reinforced limestone walls were common structural elements. The dwarves preferred to carve their forts into the living rock of the mountains. These forts featured ramparts and war machines that gave them commanding positions over the mountain passes and deep caverns they guarded. The elves of Erethor worked living copses of huge trees into fortifications that combined the forces of magic and forest into unbreachable wooden towers that gave their archers and battle mages key advantage over their foes.

Highwall

Highwall was once an economic giant and intellectual beacon on the Pelluria. Its prime location on the northern coast route and its independent status gave it advantages that made the city a vital trading center and a key link in the economic chain between southern Erenland and the Northern Marches. The presence of the Scholar’s Academy drew intellectuals from all over Eredane; the city’s population was the largest on the Pelluria and more cosmopolitan than any other city on the continent.
When the orc legions came out of the north, the soldiers of House Sedrig and the powerful wizards at the Scholar’s Academy were not unprepared. They had read the portents and had set themselves to the city’s defense. But they could not have foreseen the fury and power that Izrador would bring to bear on this, the brightest symbol of hope and knowledge north of the Sea of Pelluria. It seemed as if every orc, goblin, and ogre in the world descended on the city on that fateful night. The Night Kings and their legate lieutenants broke its walls with terrible magic, and survivors claim that the Night King Zardrix herself, the dragon known as Wrath of Shadow, set both the defenders and the city ablaze.
The attack was a symbolic as well as a strategic one. By crushing the city, Izrador destroyed the greatest symbol of peace and interlinked culture in Eredane while also destroying the greatest repository of knowledge and magical lore outside of Caradul. In this single attack, his forces burned away the enlightened and social links that helped hold the cultures of Eredane together. Izrador’s minions razed the Scholar’s Academy and on its shattered grounds raised the greatest fortress ever built in all the lands of Eredane, and perhaps all of Aryth. Theros Obsidia is a massive tower of black stone, magicked up from the very bedrock of the sea cliffs. The tower’s vast height is lost in the veil of fog that always seems to hang in the unnaturally still air that surrounds the ruins of Highwall. The lower levels of the dark keep sprawl outward like the limbs of a great, fat spider, dwarfing the remains of the surrounding city, and the once-great Library Tower of the Scholar’s Academy stands a broken and skeletal ruin in the shadow of the larger edifice.
To Theros Obsidia is directed all the homage of the Shadow hordes and deference of the legates, for it is in this unholy keep that the stories claim the manifest form of Izrador resides. It is from this place that they say he guides his armies and unfolds his grand and vile plan. Though many believe these are simply the dread tales of frightened people, there is no doubt that the fortress is the new capital of Izrador’s foul kingdom. The Night Kings frequently visit the keep, and thousands of troops are garrisoned there. Legions are always moving through the area, stopping only for supplies and fresh recruits.
The humans who still reside in the ruins of Highwall, cowering in the shadow of the black tower, are either the garrison’s enslaved captives or those who have pledged their service to Izrador’s armies. The latter numbers grow day by day as more Dorns forget the pride of their ancestors and throw in their lot with the Shadow. Already, the first human legions have begun to form, structured in the same awful manner as the orc legions. Their presence portends the terrible fate Izrador has in store for all the peoples of Eredane.

Nalford

As the tale goes, Nalford was once a fair hill town nestled in a fertile valley on the banks of the Pale River. The city was home to proud warriors and stout allies of the elven court, and when Izrador rose at the end of the First Age, the people of Nalford are said to have been the first to rally. For its faith and daring in opposing the Shadow, the city was sacked and burned to the ground when Izrador’s forces poured out of the north at the end of the Third Age. By the light of the full moon, the greater legates, Izrador’s viceroys, unleashed deadly magic. They killed every living creature, tore down the city’s battlements, and burned what was left to the ground—all in a single night. At dawn, the Shadow’s armies moved south, leaving nothing but charred corpses and smoking ruins.
The ruins of Nalford still stand today, bleak and gray in a valley no longer fertile and on the banks of a river now sluggish with mud and foul growths. The ruins beckon to adventurers with promises of lost treasure and hidden secrets, but woe to the unfortunate souls who find themselves there on the night of the fullest moon. For then, as has happened every month since the legates’ raid, the city returns to life. The walls stand again, cook smoke climbs from chimneys, and the city’s battlements are guarded by watchful soldiers. In the streets and taverns, the inhabitants go about their business as though life were always so.
Then, in the middle of the night and with no warning, the city erupts into battle. Trumpets call, soldiers shout, and the telling clash of steel rings in the streets. The townsfolk flee or run for arms as battle rages at the walls. The fortifications fall quickly, and the city begins to burn. People scream and die, and soldiers fight through the town, weapons flashing in pitched combat.
Yet, when watched by outsiders, this ghostly fall of Nalford is more than a dreadful battle; it is a terrifying vision. There is no enemy to be seen. Buildings erupt into flame for no apparent cause. Swordsmen hack and curse at nonexistent enemies, and civilians are cut down by unseen attackers. The city is sacked again with the exact same horror in which it burned more than a hundred years ago, and the shades of the townsfolk die the same terrible deaths again for perhaps the ten thousandth time. What is most terrifying for the outsiders is that they cannot help but become embroiled in the battle.
Outsiders caught within the walls when the battle begins are suddenly seen by the townsfolk as part of the assaulting force and are savagely attacked by the deadly ghost soldiery. Even if they are able to fend off the assaults, outsiders are unable to find their way clear of the city. The burning buildings, collapsing walls, and savage defenders seem to always block their way. If the outsiders are killed or find themselves still trapped in the city at dawn, they are lost forever. With the first light of day, the city fades and the outsiders along with it. They become shades of themselves, forever cursed to relive their deaths with each full moon, trapped for eternity in the ghost battle of Nalford.

Steel Hill

Steel Hill is a mining and foundry town in the southwestern foothills of the Highhorn Moutains. It is young as large Dornish settlements go but became an economic power as its metal trade expanded. Before Izrador conquered the Northlands, Steel Hill was known for its fine weapons, armor, and tools and was also a source of the raw iron ingots from which more southerly smiths forged their wares. The city was a sprawling complex of foundries surrounded by residential neighborhoods and outlying villages of miners, farmers, and woodcutters. The air was always full of gray charcoal smoke and the clanging music of hammers.
In the final days before the Last Age, Steel Hill was ruled by Lord Eden of House Falon, called the Silver Sword. Lord Eden Falon expected to die in glorious battle, defending their people and Erenland to the last. Unfortunately, this was not to be: the insidious agents of the fallen god had spread their corrupting touch into Eden’s city and subverted one of their commanders, a cousin by the name of Aura Falon, with promises of eternal life. As the Silver Sword rode out with their troops for a first sortie against the Shadow, soldiers loyal to Aura took the city from within and closed the gates, leaving Eden’s forces trapped outside the walls. Their last stand was brave but futile, as they and their knights were dashed against their own defenses by a surge of Izrador’s giants and oruks, all the while calling to the stony-faced traitors garrisoning the wall. The Shadow’s forces established control quickly thereafter, losing few troops to the demoralized forces still loyal to Lord Eden.
The city has since become a nightmare place of despair and suffering. The populace toils under threat of the lash, digging in the mines and smelting steel. As quickly as they die, more from across the Northlands are brought in by slavers to take their places. The steel and weapons they produce are shipped in well-guarded caravans across Erenland and used to kill other Erenlanders and to support the war efforts against Erethor and the dwarves of the Kaladruns.

White Cliff

White Cliff was the capital city of House Sedrig, set atop high, chalky sea cliffs on the north shore. It was small but wealthy, gleaming white and full of fountains, beautiful mosaics, and great mansions. Its harbor was in a narrow defile created by the mouth of the Northfork River and quarried out into a protected port walled in by the high sea cliffs. Though White Cliff was not a vital port in its own right, it and House Sedrig profited greatly by the presence of Highwall within House Sedrig’s lands.
When the orc legions came down from the frontier, White Cliff was one of the first cities they planned to attack. When they arrived, however, they found the city empty, its people fled to the south and its warriors preparing to stand with their kin in what would become the Last Battle. The horde took most of the resources left in the city but left its structures largely unscathed. White Cliff’s open vistas and perches on some of the Pelluria’s highest bluffs make the orcs uncomfortable, so they have left it unoccupied. The city is now a staging point for smugglers and human bandits and home to the occasional goblin squatters. When different groups of scavengers periodically meet, the streets ring with the clash of bloody street fighting.