Bitter Creek
Bitter Creek is just like any of the other dozens of mining town that have sprung up across the Trackless; lawless, crass, and filled with desperate souls clinging to hope for a big score. Named for the mountain stream trickling through the mountain saddle their both seated in, Bitter Creek was founded by prospectors who came seeking gold and found it in the steams sulfurous waters sometime in the spring of '04. As soon as word made it back to civilization that gold was to be had, rumors flying that nuggets the size of halfling skulls were just lying on the ground ready to be plucked up, a rush of ne'er-do-wells, young fools, and adventurers made for the Verdant Hills. In their wake, business persons seeking to capitalize on the gold rush set about establishing saloons, hostels, whorehouses, and grocery and sundry storefronts to meet the needs of the prospectors and miners.
With all its mystique and riches Bitter Creek is much more famous than its size would imply. About 2000 souls call the town home but dozens of trappers, hunters, frontierpersons, and far-ranging prospectors drift in and out of Bitter Creek on a semi-regular basis. The postmaster, a half-elf by the name of Yervin King, maintains mailboxes for many of these nomads for the low price of two cents a week, payable when they come to pick up their mail, of course.
Of those who live in and about the town itself, most are miners working for the at the Ruethers & Gurdig Mine (The R&G) , the Shekleton & Sons Mine (The S&S Mine), or are independent prospectors who hold a deed to their own plot (the legitimacy and legality of such documents is often of questionable nature, as claimjumpers are known to pay certain less scrupulous clerks to forge documentation after previous owners are found bobbing down the creek full of holes). While working for one of "the Big Two" is less likely to get a miner shot or eaten by a orgess in the woods, workers in the miners are by no means safe. Poison gas, cave-ins, volatile explosives, and even purple worms have each taken more than their far share of young hopefuls from this land of the quick. Even just going to the Jackboot or Elphonzo's Emporium, two of the more popular establishments in town, can get a life cut short over a hand of poker or a high demand whore. For all this, the locals are quick to point out that Bitter Creek has claimed more Saint-Fearing souls than the rest of the Trackless. By area, they just might be right.
If there's one person seeking to bring order to bastion of lawlessness, its Sheriff Kessawase, the first Sreksian to hold an elected office in the town. Respected for his candor and forthrightness, Kessawase has no qualms with dispatching lethal justice when he deems it necessary. Those who take issue with a Sreksian lawman still tread lightly if they know what's good for them while in town, as Kessawase has no patience for bigots or braggarts and has gunned down a number of each who refused to be reasoned with.
Situated as is in rugged foothills of an even more rugged mountain range, the town itself is under constant threat from trolls and perytons that live in the surrounding terrain.
Demographics
A little bit of everyone can be found here. Young halflings looking to make a quick buck, deserters from all three armies during the War, Urg bounty hunters, and rich half-elven bastards run off to gamble away their Counselor parent's fortune.
Government
Elected Mayor, town council, and sheriff.
Industry & Trade
Mining town, supplying local miners with goods and sundries of all standard varieties.
Infrastructure
The amenities and services available in Bitter Creek are luxurious by frontier standards, which is to say completely barbaric by the standards of cultured Enlightened from the Northern cities.
Thanks to T.J. "Bart" Bartholomew, the water in the town's well is clear and fresh, unlike that flowing through the creek the town takes its name from.
Remove these ads. Join the Worldbuilders Guild
Comments