Gwydion
A place of song and sunshine
There are few places in the world as deppresingly dark, excessively morose, or infamously brooding as Gwydion. Surrounded by a constant gloomy atmosphere, one would think the people within it would come to match their somber home; this could not be farther from the truth. The people of Gwydion are a constant ray of sunshine against the all-encompassing edge of their homeland- No, really. I'll prove it.
Gwydion is divided into two Kingdoms; Wruthmar, a land of dying grass and bare trees to the north, and Gwendraeg, a place of rocky hills and ceaseless rain to the south. Both are wracked by terribly cold wind from the dark sea, but it's never cold enough to snow; both are tormented by a thick rolling fog, hiding countless horrific monstrosities and mysterious figures. Both are plagued by a thick overcast, blocking out most sunlight from the land. And yet, neither of the two let that keep them down.
For in order to survive in such a bleak atmosphere, one must adapt to find joy in even the smallest of things. The people of Gwydion, they are a cheerful folk; optimistic to a fault, and unfleetingly appreciative of every little piece of joy there is to partake in- whether the tea is particularly sweet, the flowers less grey than the day before, or perhaps even something as simple as a warm fire. Masters of story and song, the people of Gwydion are famously known for their awe inspiring skill in the entertainment arts, with the most famous bards and poets renowned across Eirre originating from the dark mists of Gwydion.
But of course, despite the optimism of the people, Gwydion is continually affected by it's own hardships that rightfully make life seem hopeless. The land is famous for monstrous plagues that have affected the land for near it's entire existence; such as the horrible curse of Vampirism, and the terrible disease of Lycanthropy. Blood flows down the streets as easily as water, what with all the murderers- whether they be monsters in the dark, or assassins and thieves in the night. No place in Gwydion is truly safe from the darkness hiding behind the people's optimistic smile. None may run from the terrors anyway. And so if there's nothing to be done about it, why not just smile? I'm sure it'll all be fine in the end.
Fauna & Flora
Plant life in Gwydion has never been known to be particularly exciting, considering the flora seems almost devoid of any color; but that never stopped it from being absolutely haunting, in other ways. Forests of dark and dying trees reach out with their twisted branches, clawing and grasping for the living. Dead, dry grass that crunches beneath one's boot, brushing against one's knees. Vines of sickening colors wrap themselves around most structures of stone, spreading their influence with an army of daggers.
But it would be regrettable to forget to mention the most iconic feature of Gwydion's landscape; Sunflowers. You see, the Sunflower, called the Gwydion Sunrise, is so named due to the fact that there is no truly clear sky in Gwydion; simply mere patches to the sky above, usually when the moon peaks through the clouds. Sunflowers are near the closest thing Gywdion achieves to seeing the sun, and as such, is seen as a symbol to keep one's chin up, and make the best of things. Everyone knows it's not the best in Gwydion, so they make do with what they got- and the Sunflower is perhaps the best representation of that idea, of the spirit of Gwydion. The image of a Sunflower is the national icon of Gwendraeg, and is painted across it's flags and other official paraphernalia.
But you didn't come here for plants, now did you? No, you came for the most famous, most scorned aspect of Gwydion. The things living in it. Vampires, Werewolves, Ghosts, and other somesuch beasts and monsters that go bump in the night. Hunters and adventureres come far and wide from all corners of the world, just to hunt down these foul beasts that terrorize the good people of Gwydion. I can see your hopes rising from here; and don't worry, we will be speaking of them eventually, just not quite here. Peachy?
Natural Resources
The pumpkin; plump and sickeningly colorful against the drab and muted colors of it's surroundings, seems to grow nigh everywhere across Gwydion's ragged hills and rocky landscapes. And oft, they waft a shroud of light against the dark, rays of fire spewing forth from their carved maw. The pumpkin is a staple food in Gwydion, with bits of it being used for near damn everything. Pumpkin seeds are a popular snack, pumpkin pies are the national dish, and perhaps most bizarrely, it is used as a flavoring for tea, among other beverages. Though, most foreigners only know the prevelence of Pumpkins in iconic imagery, as the carving of pumpkins into monsters or pleasant creatures has been adopted nearly worldwide, on the Gwydion originating holiday of Harrow's Evening.
But Gwydion is more famous as a place of blood and bone. Medical sciences prospered in the dark lands of Gwydion, as blood spilled and the stalkers of the night ripped and tore and broke the populace. Potions, paultices, surgical procedures; a large potion of the medical world originates here in the stormlands, out of a necessity to survive against those who saught to devour flesh. Apothecaries, doctors, sugeons, and even barbers are common professions.
Though perhaps the greatest treasure of the downtrodden, the one commodity that the Stormlanders would guard with every bit of pride they had, would be the art of story and song, originating in Gwydion. Bards are the master merchants of Gwydion, and joy is their trade; they spend their lives accruing collections of art. Tales and songs, stories and dances- all manner of things told around a fire, or sung over strings. The people of Gwydion value hope, and joy, in even the smallest of things; for if they can't make it for themselves, what else do they have to be happy about?
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