The Surrounding Lands

Looking out, over the water, simple piers dot the wooded horizon where villages keep their small fishing crafts. A network of almost haphazard roads that snake their uncertain ways through the land's forests can reach these towns.

Behind the inn, a little-known path, over-grown after all the time the site's been void of inhabitants, leads to an underground stronghold, some times older than the inn's tower. This is accessed through a small hovel, opened long ago at the base of a wizened old tree. First excavated by clever goblins, it was quickly abandoned again, once they realized the land's water-table rose surprisingly during torrential rains to flood their home. Later, it was fortified by a race of thick-skinned and peaceful two-legged reptilians, long-thought to be extinct, with a knack for architecture. Now, though, it lies mostly undisturbed. A surprisingly simple and robust irrigation system forces the land's back-wash out of its narrow corridors and low-ceilinged chambers to keep the stronghold dry. But it is not entirely uninhabited. Though forgotten by the goblins that were first there, other feral creatures have found sanctuary and seclusion from the light of day in the few miles of unmapped darkness.

Somewhere, 'cross the lake and some days' travel further on, to the North-East, a fortified city of decent size and selfish magistrates with deep pockets crouches, cancerous and corrupt, named al'Milthea. A product of a land mostly unable to support any kind of civilization on its own, those in authority have become dependent on taxes and produce shipped in from other lands and grown bitter and complacent in their duties. Their people are strong-working, but rarely see any kind of large returns for their efforts. Even their minimal earnings are taxed horribly by hired footsoldiers jealous of the great soldiers of more prosperous kingdoms. Though their grip is angry, it is not far-reaching.

To the West, a week's easy ride beyond Ba`Haleahr Crossing, lies the port town of Indaer, fed and prosperous by its easy access to many widely-varied cultures. As a rule, its atmosphere is much more endearing than in al'Milthea, due to its heavier burdens toward the rest of the world. Spreading luxuriantly across a stretch of the shore that borders a broad gulf just off the Western ocean, its inhabitants are generally better-behaved and have more peaceful beliefs and mannerisms, in regard to new strangers and the world around them. Having not seen war of any berth for several decades now, its people and security forces have grown somewhat complacent, in their own right, in the face of possible invasion from jealous neighbouring kingdoms.

Further off to the South, by South-East lies the capitol of the comparatively small kingdom of Lensharol, whose current king is said to be of good spirits, but relatively small ambition; he is content with the kingdom as it is and spends most of his time working to maintain its current state, negotiating with the neighbouring kingdoms for peace and trade. Though the people of the cities loosely under his control mostly appreciate the peace he has kept for the past some decades, their respect for him

wanes gradually from his lack of charisma and enthusiasm --- the magistrates and

other governing bodies of their respective cities are much more prominent and

important figures in their minds, with the king seated below them as little more

than a small pawn of a figurehead.

Linking these three cities of the kingdom to each other is the prosperous and

growing cross-roads market town of Ba`Haleahr Crossing.

Some seventy-odd years past, Hayden Ba`Haleahr --- a

charismatic, but middling-class merchant-musician of

the time --- gambled all and purchased the rights to the

land on and immediately around the cross-road that

links the capital of the kingdom to its two other major

cities. In order to do so, he promised a certain amount

of tax on the merchants that passed through the

cross-road, knowing nobody would make a new major

road simply to get around the market town he would

soon build on it. With years of hard and extensive work,

he managed to convince the people of the region's

towns to gather in his own market to trade their goods

and purchase what theymay need from passing merchant

trains for a small fee. Since most of the towns were too

far to travel in half a day, he also owned hostels where

the townspeople would be able to stay and eat for an

other small fee. Anyone passing through would be likely

to spend at least a night and a hot meal in comfort.

Hayden's prestige among the people quickly grew, for his generosity and involvement in the surrounding towns. At the time of the last wars the kingdom faced, he was childless, but soon took a visiting Gorean woman for his wife, who bore him daughters. Of mixed backgrounds, his daughters were mostly listless and undecided, but Mahayr chose to stay to take on the family's responsibilities, when Hayden and his wife passed away.

The town is governed from a none-too-modest manor set aside from it, somewhat in the trees, dubbed by the locals as Ba`Haleahr Manor. Not necessarily known for its lavish parties in recent years, it is nonetheless a frequent way-point for many guests, who may seem to come and go as they please.

For most of the common people from the cities, the cost of maintaining an influx of diverse foods, clothes, spices and other exotic produce has gradually drained their coffers and spirits, chasing them out, in to the primal lands outside the city walls. While dangerous and fearsome, the woods have become a great sanctuary to many people who live, now, greatly untouched by the hand of law in towns protected only by walls, fire-pits and hearty farmers. This, also, presents its own problems; though most town-dwellers are well-meaning enough, they are yet easy prey for scavengers, raiders and other criminals that might have had more of a free reign, were it not for the abundance of hidden creatures that feed on them in the dark.

Living hard lives, but far more balanced than in any city, the people of the numerous small towns around the Dragon's Heart hold steadfast to what little they've earned, slowly beating the forests back. Unwittingly, this will eventually limit the number of creatures that hold the brigands in check, throwing the natural balance, heretofore barely held, over the brink. It remains a matter of time before the land is shaped in Man's image and can support him; when cities will dot the land and, perhaps, a noble and long-armed king may rise to lead the people to peace through domination, driving all other races to tragically become obsolete, no matter how beautiful they may be.