Mossmoor

The well-trodden paths of the Arrows of Agor in Midgard's northwest bring travelers and trade through foothill passes amongst mossy old oaks, steps brushed by lacy ferns on their journeys from the elven lands to the kingdom of the Dwarves and beyond. This is a traveler's place, where footsteps mingle in the mud, and stories are shared on the road and in the waystations, in the pubs and in the barbershop. Few make their homes here outside the capitol or the few settlements that dot the Arrows, but those who do know there is some old magic in the mud.

Smells like day breaking over mist-painted moors, earth underfoot ever softening in the morning rain. In the rocky hollows, verdant lichens cling to cool stone, shaded by unfurling emerald ferns

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