The Old Margreve

The Margreve Forest is ancient, already old when most of the gods were young. In time immemorial, it cradled the great spirits of nature, and its loam felt the footfalls of the ancient gods of elves and treants. As millennia passed, its roots swallowed rivers, its canopy stole the sun from vast tracts of land, and its groves crested mountains that have since weathered to hills.
In all that time, the Margreve has changed little. History transpires around it, lapping at its edges like the sea at the shore, but never truly invading. Though kingdoms rise and fall beyond its borders, the Margreve remains a world apart—a place where memories and old magic linger in the rings of trees and new ideas and ways never take root. A strange realm that lives by its own rules, the Margreve harbors wonders and horrors in equal measure. Those few regions humans know well have an evil reputation, not worth risking to gain the potential rewards. Every year, however, a few brave souls decide to ignore the old stories and cautionary tales. Most never return.
Long the private property of House Stross, the Margreve Forest retains a certain hushed atmosphere of wild decay and noble privilege. Travelers go quietly through the deepest woods, seeking to avoid throat-slitting bandits, howling barghests, and even kobolds bitterly defending their secret mines.
At the same time, the untamed regions of the Margreve call to Zobeckers’ lust for wealth. The forest provides the timber that builds its barges, fuels its smithies, and braces its silver mines. The noise of kobold miners, foresters, and merchants rumbling along the Great Northern Road grows each year. Silence returns only in winter. The road brings goods from the cities of the Red Queen of Courlandia, the undead of the Blood Kingdom, and the Niemheim forest to the banks of the Argent. Maintaining the connection between this route and the river makes Zobeck half its fortune as a trade center. Naturally, castles and towers defend the road.

Old Margreve

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Type

Forest