Rothenian Plain Geographic Location in Torar | World Anvil

Rothenian Plain

(Roh-THIN-ee-an)

This is a homebrewed version of the location of the same name in the Midgard setting, which is (c) Kobold Press.
Life is hard in the open lands, where only the wind is free. Among the rolling, endless grasslands of the Rothenian Plain, Kariv bands dance among gaudy, mule-drawn wagons, keeping an uneasy peace with the centaurs. From these empty quarters come strange alliances of man and centaur to wrest gold from the cities and kings, to assault the walls of Morgau’s Cloudwall, and to steal the secrets of the infernal gnomes of Niemheim.   No hand is friendly here. The region’s few cities are held in fists of iron, and robber barons command the river-roads. Any place where two stones are piled together is hostile to nomads, though friendly to mercenaries. The stout warriors of the Khazzaki ride tough steppe ponies for plunder. Baba Yaga plays one leader against another, a friend for a month or a year—and then a bitter foe. The boyars and the ravenfolk of Vidim vie for the tsar’s ever-shifting favor, but remain united to protect Vidim against external threats.   The roads that connect the most civilized places are as dangerous and wild as the uncharted prairie. Bandits from Misto Cherno and heartless centaur raiders control the roads, preying on the weak and ill-prepared. The Wandering Realm is crisscrossed with the trails of the nomads, whose trajectories change as quickly as the whims of Baba Yaga. To walk the trails across the Plain is to risk your life, though you may learn something about a wandering heart from the journey.   The steppes smell of wild thyme all summer long, when the golden grass parts before a rider’s horse with a dry whisper and the wind takes flight to the horizon. The lands lie beneath pure white blankets of snow in the winter, when few dare travel far. The people of the Rothenian Plain wander the horizon, holding tight to their freedoms and fighting hard to keep their herds moving, their hearts bold, and their people strong.   Kariv magic, centaur steel, and the finest bows ever strung await you—if you are strong enough!  

Grandmother Baba Yaga

Many tales feature the bony-legged fey witch Baba Yaga, and most of them contradict each other. It’s hard to get a sense of Baba Yaga, and many suspect that’s exactly what she wants. Indeed, little happens anywhere that isn’t exactly as she desires. As convoluted and dark a mystery as Baba Yaga is, bits of her story rise to the surface and provide more truth than the rest, like foam on a bubbling stew.   Baba Yaga is a trader of secrets. It’s said there’s nothing she does not know. The brave, the desperate, and the stupid make pilgrimages to seek her wisdom, but she is rarely found when she doesn’t want to be. Those who find her regret it when she attempts to force them into her service—as a beast of burden or common tool—or eats them, having developed a taste for mortal flesh. Rarely, she seeks out those in most need of her assistance, when it serves her purposes as well.

Geography

The Rothenian Plain has no real permanent settlements, but it does contain the gulyay-gorod (literally “wandering town”). Each moving town is a mobile fortification made from large wall-sized prefabricated shields set on wagons or sleds, which provide full or partial cover for all inhabitants inside. The structure is easy to pull with oxen or draft horses, and without any need to set up tents or unpack goods when moving.   These enormous wandering towns include Misto Cherno (a bandit wandering town, primarily a home to fallen Kariv and wild or bandit centaurs), Misto Ellel (the town of runes, a home to mystics, it floats without wheels and is drawn by swans or reindeer or even stranger things), and Misto Tilla (drawn by 100 oxen, with a battery tower as part of the wagon that carries two ballistae, the home of a notorious Khazzaki warlord and his harem). Wandering gulyay-gorod come and go, but the tales of them expand with each retelling.  

Demon Mountain

It hides its face behind wooded slopes. Its countenance is shrouded by the thick and unnatural clouds that roil around its peak and descend into nearby valleys. The barren hills at its base are filled with howling things that dance on cloven feet. Demon Mountain: a name known but never uttered. The daring souls who seek their fame on its unforgiving rises return with sulfur on their breath and madness in their eyes. The Master, they whisper, a palace of bone, wine, and the wicked. There are rumors of spies sent out from this unholy place. Women and men sent down from the mountain, walking the Plain and beyond—smiling toothily and always listening.   More than one innocent has been set to death accused of being a witness for Demon Mountain. Even the great witch avoids both place and topic, though some believe she has a room in the storied palace of the Master. Adventurers who brave the evils of the slopes and climb to its peak may be invited for dinner with the Master. Their fate after the dishes are cleared is anything but certain.

Fauna & Flora

Kharalang, the Great Dragon of the Plain

  When travelers think of the Rothenian Plain, they think of the various tribes of the region, and of the raiders who sometimes gather to burn out Magdar towns and villages. They also, invariably, think of Kharalang. Some believe its home lies on Demon Mountain, but no search has revealed its lair. Scudding clouds, a rising wind, and falling temperatures usually announce its presence; hail and even thunder are common heralds. Those who attack the dragon with spells and arrows have not, as yet, reported on the results of this approach.   The stories of Kharalang’s hoard provide a form of humor and amusement to the people of the Plain. It’s a bit of an in-joke or initiation for them to mock visitors with a completely straight-faced account of the location of the dragon’s hoard, often involving a long journey overland, diving into chill rivers, or digging up small hills in search of the gold.   No one laughs until after the visitor has gone off to search for the fabulous wealth, which the tale‑spinner always says is “beyond the reach of a coward like me; beware the dragon’s wrath!” This tale always seems to encourage gold-seeking visitors to a speedy departure.
Alternative Name(s)
The Wandering Realm
Type
Plain
Location under
Owner/Ruler
Characters in Location

Comments

Please Login in order to comment!