Maps by Roz Leahy

Those in kingdom of Fortu speak Pictish.
Those in the kingdoms of Ergyng and Hwicce speak Brythonic.
The aristocracy of Hwicce speak Norse.
Priests and scholars throughout Albann speak and write in Latin.
Those on the Northern and Eastern coasts speak passable Norse.
Those on the Western coast speak passable Ruis.
The Fallen Druids of Albann have forgotten Ghom. They refer to themselves as Druids only - they do not know how far they have come.

Weather

Roll 1d8 at commencement of play.
For all weather rolls, add +1 if in Fortu or the Black Strath.
After this, roll 1d6, and:
- If the previous days score was 2 or less, -2 to the dice roll. - If the previous days score was 5 or more, +2 to the dice roll.

Rain and Storms have a 5% chance of being Snow - doubled in the mountains and in Fortu. Consecutive results continue to be Snow.

Encounters by Area

Every 12 hours, an Encounter roll should be made. Use the location, reaction and surprise to determine goals as needed - most do not wander aimlessly.

Fortu & Guthram

The Black Strath

Note that Orcs are able to move during the day due to the thick forestation throughout the region.

Hwicce

The Moerheb Weald & Coast

Ergyng

The Roaming Court

A curse dictates that the reigning monarch of Ergyng may not sleep in the same settlement on consecutive nights without damning the kingdom to ruin. The origins of this are lost, but the requirement upheld - King Cadoc, and most of the court, travel around. Such a routine has become part of life in Ergyng - reserves are always held for a royal visit.

The court moves 1 hex a day in a random direction, never leaving Ergyng nor entering the Moerheb Weald. Track this whilst the party are in or near Ergyng - otherwise start them in a random settlement.

The court consists of King Cadoc (4HD, Full Length Maille, Sword), his wife Queen Mithel, 53 assorted courtiers, 150 serving staff,60 Royal Guard (armoured footmen) and 7 hidden Doppelgangers. The tents are huge and bright and can be seen at a great distance.

King Cadoc has yet to select a successor - neither of his sons wants the throne, preferring to keep their cities. Cadoc treasures the unsteady peace of Albann, but will not brook insult. He loathes the Fallen Druids.

Queen Mithel rules the court with an iron fist. Any rudeness or deviation is punished severely - titles have been stripped for faux pas at the feasting table.

Nearby Islands

07.05 Flodaigh

The isle of Flodaigh swarms with sea-birds - in spring, their nests fill the ground. Crushing an egg is sure to invoke their fury. At the centre of the island, a crumbled drystone tower in the style of Ruis. In the rich, bird-shit fertilized soil, a proliferation of psychoactive mushrooms grow.

Within the tower, a warrior (4HD, Two-Handed Sword) who has forgotten themselves entirely, mind forever gazing beyond. Naked to the waist and heavily tattooed, they speak in a language of slurred syllables unheard in the waking world. Attacks against them are at -4, the warrior whirling their blade around them at inhuman speeds.

When the mushrooms of Flodaigh are eaten the consumer sleeps deeply, entering the realm of dream until the next sunrise. Those making a tea and sharing it travel together. The realm of dream can give prophecy, nightmares and falsehoods.

Within the realm of dream is the warrior’s mind - they will offer to teach their way of the sword, practiced in the surreality of slumber. By looping their blade in a figure-of-eight they offer attackers no opening - causing them to take -1 to hit. They do not remember their name, nor how long they have dwelt here.

01.19 Sibhinis

Ancient apple trees crowd the isle of Sibhinis. Sleek, glossy birds and fish eat the ever-ripe fruit. Any staying the night here and eating the fruit find themselves fully healed. If transported off the island, the fruit is poison, killing those unable to make a Physique save.

03.21 Tarasaigh

White lilies blanket the island, marred only by the stone tombs. The stone making up these tombs is impossibly hard, despite being conventional to inspection. Any buried here guarantee a worthy successor - any player character buried here will be replaced by a character who already has a Boast to their name.

12.23 Sanndraigh

Sanndraigh is burdened with a coat of oak and beech - thick enough and tall enough to hide the mound that dominates the centre of the island. Birds flutter between the trees, and there is evidence of foxes in the undergrowth. No clear path is marked through the woods.
The mound is coated in grass and bramble, but the stone doors are clear of obstruction.

The Tomb

Within the tomb, the walls are packed earth supported with tarred beams of wood. The floor is pale yellow sand - loose enough to making running strenuous.

All named NPCs within speak archaic but understandable Brythonic. As hauscarls, they are bound beyond death to guard this resting place - they speak only of duels. Upon entry to a chamber containing one, roll reaction:

Hostile - The hauscarl challenges the lowest HD member of the party to a duel to the death.
Negative Inclination - The huscarl challenges the lowest HD member of the party to a duel to the death. They will allow a champion to act as substitute - if they fight one-handed.
Neutral - The huscarl announces none may pass until they have been challenged and defeated in combat. The duel is to the death.
Positive Inclination - The huscarl announces none may pass until they have been challenged and met in combat. The duel is to the death, but the figure will honour those who Yield.
Friendly - The huscarl announces none may pass until they have been challenged and met in combat. The duel is to the death, but the figure will honour those who Yield. If the figure is reduced to less than 6 HP, they Yield. If this is accepted, they will act as a champion in future duels - as well as imparting any technique they have to teach. They may not leave the island.

In a Duel, only the combatants may attack one another. Interference breaks the duel, devolving into general combat. In general combat, huscarls double their HD and strike twice per round.

Entrance
A pair of stone doors, each 12’ tall and 7’ wide. They are plain bar a carving of a wolf, which is limping and small - as if fleeing a fight. The carving is in a realistic style. They are heavy, and there is no mechanism to open them - they must be broken, taking 2 hours using hammers and spikes, or smashed down, requiring a combined strength of 60 and a ram. In either case, those doing the work are exhausted, taking -2 to all rolls for the rest of the day.

1
Long-dead candles, surrounded by decomposed rat corpses, cluster around a central statue like strange fungus. The statue is that of a bearded king, in milky stone. They are dressed in full length maille, and wear a crown woven with roses.

Kneeling before the statue is Baeddan (HD 4, Maille, Shield, Sword). In combat, they may use their shield as a bludgeon - forgoing their AC bonus to add +1 to strike. If defeated in a duel, this technique is imparted to the victor as Baeddan crumbles to dust.

2
Knotted roots reach down from the ceiling in this chamber. Threaded them are painted gourds, depicting scenes of nature worship and speaking trees. Whatever they once contained has long since dried to nothing.

a
Skeletons are set into the walls of this chamber, side-profile, marching down towards 6. Some carry corroded short-swords.

3
Twenty graves have been dug in this chamber, each marked with a shovel or pick. A bag of 25 silver coins has been placed on each. If any are taken, all Reaction rolls in the tomb are at -2.

4
Painted wooden boards cover the walls, depicting horses with riders, hounds, deer and boar. The figures are all silhouettes, and move through dense foliage.

Bedwyr (5HD, Maille, Spear, Javelin, Battle-axe) sits atop a skeletal horse. In general combat, he charges from horseback, adding 2 to strike and 2 to damage. If dismounted, the bones of the horse fall to the floor, inert.

5
Wicker cages line the walls, each containing a prostrate skeleton bound in lead wire. The skulls are each marked with 3 Latin numerals. There are over 100 cages.

6
Stuffed boar fill this chamber, each set on crude wooden wheels. Some are roped together, forming chains. Esni (5HD, Full Length Maille, Warhammer) stands amongst them. In combat or a duel, he tries to launch opponents towards clusters of boar to entangle them in the ropes. If combat goes poorly, he kicks sand into the face of any opponents, temporarily blinding them on a failed Doge roll.

7
Hundreds of spears and swords are plunged into the sand here, each with a helm set atop it. Most show signs of damage - none are fit for use. Anything entering this chamber is attacked by the nearest weapon - once for each step. These attacks are made as 1HD creatures. Crossing from one entrance to another (6-5, 6-9, 5-9) takes at least 20 steps - 15 ‘long’ steps. Other forms of movement are ignored.

8
A throne of gold-wrapped wood, carved into the form of an eagle, broken-winged. Boars and horses trample outwards from beneath the wings, a fierce gleam in their eyes provided by rubies. If the time is taken, 20 such gems can be dug out, worth 50sp each.

Sitting before the throne like a hound is Cei (HD 7, Maille, Quarterstaff, Club).

9
A beam of metal runs from ceiling to floor. Around it is a heavy iron chain, which is connected to a cockatrice. It shuffles around the room, clanking - the chain allows it access to all of the room bar the Western end. If attacked with missiles, it hides behind the bar, causing a penalty of 2 to hit.

10
The walls are covered in painted wooden boards, depicting legions on boats leaving an island draped in golden cloth with its own army cheering. At the head of the crowd is a crowned figure.

The southern wall is dominated by a stone table, a sarcophagus atop it. Modelled into the lid is a crowned man in armour, holding a real sword. The sword is made of blue steel. The sarcophagus must be smashed open. It contains a complete skeleton wearing 300sp worth of gold jewellery.

11
The walls are covered in painted wooden boards, depicting legions on boats leaving an island draped in golden cloth with its own army cheering. At the head of the crowd is a crowned figure.

The southern wall is dominated by a stone table, a sarcophagus atop it. Modelled into the lid is a crowned man in armour, hands curled but holding nothing. The sarcophagus must be smashed open, and its empty. If the sword from 10 is placed in the figure’s hands, the walls behind both sarcophagi sink slowly into the floor, reveal two entrances to 12.

12
A glass container holds a man, untouched by time. He is wearing the Crown of the Brythons, wrapped in progressive bands of mother-of-pearl, and topped with emeralds - worth 12000sp to one able to afford it. His raiment is heavy with gold thread and purple ribbons. Ermine fur lines much of the length. Upon his finger in a Stolen Star, emitting its gentle light. The other fingers are heavy with jewelled rings of silver and gold - 12 in number, each worth 350sp. The left hand holds a Javelin of Thorns. If the box is smashed, the body rapidly putrefies. The wealth is left unaffected bar the clothing, which is spoiled.

20.02 Miughalaigh

A stone watch-tower in poor repair stands above a small hut and many, many sheep. The sheep are about to strip the island bare of vegetation. The hut and tower contain nothing. The crows and ravens watch closely, anticipating the fall.

21.03 Lothing

Upon the shore of Lothing is a nameless village of 35. All work the sea, gathering cuttlefish. Many create wonderfully delicate pots of clay with long, slender necks - ideal for throwing. The ink from the cuttlefish is stored in throwing-pots. When the bell in the Treasury rings, all flee there, carrying their children. Searching the empty village, there is 145sp in silver Fortu coins and 4 weeks worth of smoked cuttlefish meat. All speak Latin and a little Pictish.

There are 25 fighters in their number, all fighting as unarmoured 1HD humans.

The bell is rung when boats visibly approach the island - it is loud and brazen. A well-worn trail, marked with smashed stone, marks a path to the Treasury. Unlit boats at night may land on the island without being seen.

All about the village Rue is cultivated.

The Treasury

A heavy, squat windowless building of mortared stone bricks, laboriously ferried from the mainland. An outcropping of rock runs parallel to the building. Climbing it without equipment is dangerous - those falling taking 3d6 damage from the many jagged horns of stone. Equipment takes time and makes noise - heard by the defenders on a 3-in-6. Those braving the dangerous climb would find the second, accidental entrance (e2) to the building.

If the bell has been rung, the entire structure is lit with burning torches and patrolled. Otherwise, rooms are dark unless specified otherwise. The outcropping is not watched closely. Villagers within the Treasury wear open wooden boxes on their shoulders, which restricts their head movement - looking side-to-side requires a full body motion.

If intruders are seen by villagers, they yell for help - in 1 round, all in rooms adjacent rooms join the combat. The round after this, any within 2 rooms.
If the intruders have any visible mirrors, they start combat by throwing their ink-bottles at the mirrors to coat the surface in sticky cuttlefish ink - rendering the mirrors useless. Each villager carries 2 such bottles.

The Medusae speak Latin.

e1
A single heavy wooden door, reinforced with strips of iron kept rust-free. It is unlocked and well-oiled, opening nearly-silently. Scones sit either side of the door.

If the Bell has been rung: 4 villagers with spears and handbells guard the entrance. Torches flank them. The door is barred from the inside. If the handbells are rung, all other villagers and the Medusae gather in 2. The door-guards will demand the intruders leave the island in broken Pictish. Smashing down the barred door requires 45 combined strength and a ram. Those doing the smashing are exhausted, taking -2 to all rolls for the rest of the day.

1
Mosaics of mining, wealth and stonecutting mark the walls - all have been polished to a brilliant shine. The floor is clear of debris.

If a handbell has been rung: 8 missile attacks are made per round from 2 - these consisting of 4 arrows and 4 javelins. In addition, ink-bottles are flung to try and blind attackers and ruin mirrors. They have enough ammunition to do this for 4 rounds. If things go poorly, the 3 Medusae will join battle, using their petrifying visages. The villagers lie down during this, keen to avoid accidental petrification.

2
A long chamber with a stone desk running perpendicular with the eastern wall. The skirt of the desk is carved with scenes of agricultural abundance - huge sheafs of wheat being lifted and transported.

If the Bell has been rung: 4 villagers with spears watch the entrance from behind the desk.

If a handbell has been rung: 21 villagers and 3 Medusae gather here. 4 villagers have short-bows, 4 have javelins. The rest have spears - many improvised from agricultural tools.

3
A wide open courtyard, the bulk of the floor tiled. Grape vines clamber up the walls, expertly tended to. Flowers bloom in unadorned pots - many not indigenous to Albann or the isles. There is a 4-in-6 chance Sabina is here, tending the plants. One of the Medusae, crowned in vipers and asps. She wears a loose robe of pastel-yellow, and carries a slight brass key.

If the Bell has been rung: 4 villagers with bows watch the roof. Sabina lurks in the passage to 8.

4
A single table breaks up the monotony of the room, untouched by debris or dust. The table is deeply varnished and sturdy.

5
A series of small stone plinths are arranged in this room - each heavy enough to smash the stone tiled floor if pushed over.

If the Bell has been rung: 4 villagers with spears watch the entrance to 4. They will use the plinths as cover - acting as a shield as long as they are not flanked.

6
A small chamber, the walls painted with ink. The paintings depict scenes of burning cities and gentle coastal landscapes. Watching the paintings carefully, the coastal scenes move - they are a rendition of the coast of Lothing.

7
A tall chamber, the roof fitted with several narrow windows. Hanging from the ceiling, a huge brass bell with a rope ringer. This is the bell that summons the villagers to defend the treasury.

e2
From the sharp rock outcropping, a safe jump can be made to the roof of the Treasury, allowing entrance through the windows of 7 or dropping into the courtyard, 3.

8
A long chamber, dominated by a long table filled with various scales and weight-measuring mechanisms. A cabinet on the western wall contains a plethora of lead weights in exact amounts, carefully marked in Latin.

9
A mechanism of brass and iron gears dominates the wall. Protruding is a tube, terminating in a keyhole. The key carried by Sabine or found in 15.09 fits, but neither can be turned alone - the other key must be placed into the mechanism in 11 and turned simultaneously. This unlocks a.
Picking the mechanism is a 6-dice Dexterity check - failure fouls the mechanism, damaging it beyond repair. This is obvious as soon as the task is begun - the attempt can be called off.

a A square slab of lead, set on hidden, complex hinges built into the wall. The front has a silver pattern of dancing snakes embracing a snarling wolf, its paw standing on a crude map of Albann. Smashing the surrounding stone walls would take days of work using teams of workers with hammers, picks and iron spikes.

10
This narrow chamber, the eastern wall lined with iron bars, glitters with wealth extracted from Albann (Monstrous V):

• 10000sp in ancient bronze and silver Brythonic coins, silver Pictish coins and golden Latin coins.
• 16 Doubleface Drachm (&T)
• 3 threads of Cowry Shells (&T)
• 49 Gold Imitations (&T)
• 6000sp in goods
• 20 Gold Ingots, stamped with a bull, worth 4000sp
• 40 Silver Ingots, stamped with an eagle, worth 2000sp
• 200 Precious Stones, worth 10000sp
• 40 ruined bear-pelts, worthless
• A Genealogical Tree (&T)for an extinguished Pictish kingdom.
• 6 Drowning Weights (&T)
• 4 Bitter Builders (&T)
• A Seeking Dark (&T)
• 5 draughts of the Blood of Command (&T), sourced from Beasts.
• War-mask, Wolf (&T)
• Bools Bane (&T)
• 2 draughts of the Reviled Ointment (&T)
• Uspar (&T)
• The Opener (&T)

11
A mechanism of brass and iron gears dominates the wall. Protruding is a tube, terminating in a keyhole. The key carried by Sabine or found in 15.09 fits, but neither can be turned alone - the other key must be placed into the mechanism in 9 and turned simultaneously. This unlocks a.
Picking the mechanism is a 6-dice Dexterity check - failure fouls the mechanism, damaging it beyond repair. This is obvious as soon as the task is begun - the attempt can be called off.

12
Rolls of fabric soften the stone walls of this chamber, each patched and repaired many times. Piles of silk hide weaving looms and half-embroidered garments. Amongst the fabrics waits Aelina, head wreathed in water snakes of vibrant hue. She wears a different robe each day, always matching the colours of the plants in 3. The fabrics - 20 encumbrance in total - are worth 2500sp.

If the bell has been rung: Aelina is not here. 6 blindfolded children are cared for by 4 elderly villagers.

13
A bare stone chamber, marked only by a calendar system painted onto the walls and a bundle of furs and fabric. The calendar marks many planting, growth and harvesting times for all manner of plants, recorded in small, neat Latin script.

14
Filled with smashed pottery and wood, thick with dust. Seemingly unused for centuries. A map is still glued to the wall - showing Albann, marked with a number of forts. One in the south of the Black Strath is circled in red ink.

15
Stone niches in the wall are filled with scrolls and books, all crumbling into dust. There are 126 in total. Opening them with anything but the most delicate of touches ensures their destruction. They are written in Latin, Greek and Phoenician. If they could somehow be transported, each is worth 500sp to a scholarly institution. Much of what is recorded here has been forgotten.

Decima is found here, head heavy with parchment-yellow vipers. With incredible grace, she studies the texts. She wears nothing.

If the bell has been rung: Decima is not here.

16
Wooden racks line the walls, filled with spears. 4 javelins and 4 bows are the only items which mark a change. Many of the spears are improvised from agricultural tools.

If the bell has been rung: Aelina, Decima and 11 villagers are here, waiting for any noise. Aelina and Decima hide behind a drape of silk as to not accidentally petrify the villagers.

21.05 Orasaigh

A sea-cave leads into the interior of Orasaigh, showing signs of splendid stoneworking - pillars, carved with flowing scenes of festivals and torture, support the natural ceiling. The passage is unlit, and impossibly long - sailing down it for a day leads to the Underworld. The Druid-cult calls it Dubwyn, Christians Hell. Detailing this realm is beyond the scope of this document - it is more dungeon than landscape.

23.05 Mhealasta, Lair of Bheithir

Lifeless rock, arrayed against climbers with sea-smoothed cliffs and jagged, unstable peaks. One who braved the ascent would find a roofed vault, burrowed into the rock. Beneath the roof slumbers Bheithir, a dragon, atop a hoard plundered from ships. They have slept for centuries - if more than 350sp of wealth is carried, or the hoard disturbed, Bheithir awakens. They will terrorise the northern seas, Albann, Faroe and the Mid-Isles from this point on - but first, they will deal with the intruders.

Bheithir is coated in scales of iron - they cannot fly, but they can swim. Attacks made against them have a penalty of 2.

Their hoard is magnificent (Monstrous V):

• 8000sp coins from across the lands.
• 75 silver Nomad Bowls. (&T)
• 91 gold Nomad Bowls. (&T)
• 60 Bronze Imitations. (&T)
• 19 Doubleface Drachm. (&T)
• 8 beads of amber, worth 400sp.
• 67 iron ingots, worth 2680sp. They are coated in slime, which protects them from rust.
• 13 buckets of blessed soil, worth 975sp.
• 18 Ship Heads (&T)
• A bag of Silver Nails (&T)
• A Whale’s Eye (&T)
• The Witness (&T)
• 6 draughts of a Potion of Terrible Strength (&T)

Albann

09.02 Dead Meadery

Above the sea, silent hives in rows, marching towards a set of buildings. Thick, wild vegetation crawls over the buildings, half-swallowing them. 12 Gnolls lair here, each with their snarling dog-mask of stone.
Eight are dressed as Norsefolk, wearing maille and wielding javelins and axes. Three are Pictish, wearing Leather and wielding greatswords. Finally, one wears Banded Armour (as Heavy), carrying a shield and a shortsword. They speak only Latin.

All of the Picts and two of the Norsefolk are bound to the Latin speaker. The remaining Norsefolk are bound to the Picts, 2 each. If freed, all would flee. In years to come, all have the potential to raise armies of Gnolls.

None know why they wait - only that the Latin speaker has ordered it. Though none understand the words, the mask ensures intent is understood. At night, they study the map.

They have a 70% chance of being in their lair - otherwise returning on a 4-in-6.

They have a meagre hoard (Monstrous I):

• 40 Pictish silver coins.
• 40 bottles of mead, worth 200sp.
• A centuries old Brand. (&T)
• 12 stone Gnoll Masks.
• A torn page from an aged book. In Latin, it details an unmarked grave. It has many admonitions that the grave is not to be disturbed. Studying the mountains, it can be identified as being in 12.11 (Tomb III):
  • 1000sp in silver Fortu coins
  • Ten baskets of dried, aromatic flowers - still pungent. Worth 1000sp.
  • A single Puddingstone.(&T)
  • 14 Leper Pearls. (&T)
  • A lead coffin, molten shut. Contains a witch-corpse.

08.03 Caelkirk

The fortified town of Caelkirk straddles the river. Full gibbets are strewn, and soldiers fill the towers. A forest of stakes, each bearing a head, cluster around the main gate. The streets are mostly empty - the 1100 remaining citizens move quickly from building to building when they must. What whispered words can be heard are a mix of Pictish, Ruis and Norse. Those carrying arms without wearing the colours of Lutrin are harassed and followed by 4d6 soldiers.

Ruled by Lutrin (5HD, Maille, Shield, Mace) - one of the hated Four Counts. He seethes with rage, pride and ego stung by the attempted rebellion. He sees enemies everywhere - most of the heads and gibbets were erected from his purges rather than the small battle. An arrow wound in his leg is healing poorly, and weeps pus. He would forgo his Christian faith for a Druidic healer.

Lutrin’s heavy handed approach has only guaranteed hostility against him. Some consider speaking to Norse cousins to occupy the town. Amongst these insurrectionists is Mongfind, grandmother to three of the dead. To those bearing hate towards Lutrin, she whispers of protections: ale of purple heather, and wearing a flower of white. She also knows Sleep, but has none of the components.

60 footmen, 40 skirmishers, 10 horsemen, 2 karvi plus 5 fishing boats.

10.03 Renegade Cove

A flooded sea-cave system upon the coast bears grisly trophies around the entrance - hands and feet, skewered. Beneath the waterline, bronze blades jut to cut the unwary. The smell of death permeates the caves - all of which consist of narrow walk-ways around polluted pools of sea-water. There are eight interlinked caves. Only one allows access to the outside world. Viscera floats within the pools.

4 Merfolk lair here. They are festooned with gore-trophies, teeth sharpened, eyes knowing only malice. They hate what they have become, and hate any who remind them of what they once were.

Each has a length of rope pierced through with nails. Once intruders to the cave are deep enough, they cast these ropes to pull those in heavy armour into the water to drown them. If combat goes poorly, they swim to the bottom of the pools (each is ~30’ deep) and swim to adjoining caves to wait.

They have the patience of eels.

Diving to the bottom of the pools and scrabbling around, one could find 1d20 silver coins per cave.

12.03 Crabs

Thousands of crabs in a small set of rockpools. They move in circles, dancing, locking claws with one another. If disturbed, they all scuttle into the ocean.

13.03 Eanverness, capital of Fortu

The fort of Eanverness sits atop a hill, surveying the city and sea alike. Rings of wooden walls ripple throughout the city - the oldest sections having areas built of stone, with wood becoming predominant towards the edges. Amongst the 4534 inhabitants, Pictish and Norse are common.

The Warden-Queen Coblaith (5HD, Plate, Warhammer) rests uneasy on her throne. She is seen as an improvement on her dead husband, but her lieutenants - the Four Counts - are widely despised as remnants of the old order, persisting in their abuses. She continues to send soldiers to the Black Strath.

The Christian church, led here by Archbishop Drostan, works to eradicate a growing heresy which conflates indigenous sea-worship with Biblical teachings. The height of the heresy is that heaven lies beneath the waves. For now, Coblaith denies them the right to persecute - she cannot afford more internal strife.

The sea is thick with fishing vessels. Between them dart narrow whaling ships. Norse knarr carrying narwhal-ivory, furs and plunder are common. They sail away with iron, won at cost from the Black Strath. The people of Eanverness watch them carefully - they have been victims of raids before. The traders will only shake their heads, and blame pirates.

There is a distinct lack of unemployed youths in the city - most have been drafted to service in the Black Strath, their ears nicked to show their service.

Beyond the city limits, huts on stilts set above the brackish fen. Sad cows with salt rimed feet watch travellers. Villagers sell heather, promising it protects against ill luck.

300 footmen, 150 skirmishers, 100 armoured footmen, 30 horsemen, 8 karvi plus 20 fishing boats.

11.04 Corrimony

Mixed herds of sheep and cattle, closely bonded, wander the hills surrounding the Corrimony. Hundreds of animals and 44 people. Their robust dogs are incredibly loyal, bound inseparably from their designated master. The dogs are keen on nipping moving objects - this being how they herd. Only gelded dogs are sold - the village is proud of the Corrimony Herder. All are engaged with their livestock - and all are trained with the sling.

The village defers to James (2HD, Leather, Sling) when rare disagreements crop up. He is famous for killing a raider with a sling bullet though the nose - the legend overshadows the man. He wants nothing to do with killing or killers. Many wish he would slay Count Drest.

A dirt track leads up to 11.05 - a cave for use during river-raids. A wooden barricade is stored within to bar the entrance. Ghom script carved into the walls, instructing that the youngest animal must be sacrificed to placate the spirits in the cave. This has not been done since the people of Corrimony converted to Christianity - the next time they hide here, a child will be stolen. Flett, an elder, remembers nights spent crouched in the dark, his father casting the bones of lambs to speak with the bodiless dead, finding answers to his questions in the patterns as they fell.

34 skirmishers, 40 dogs.

12.04 Ryndwyrm

Boats travelling upon the river Rynd carry an animal, thrown overboard between two hills. This placates the Ryndworm - the monster who lairs within the river.

The first story of the Ryndwyrm is that it hates all with legs with a bright malice, fuelled by jealousy - in eating legged things, it hopes to grow its own and walk. A lost child once survived by puling a sack over their body, hiding their limbs - or so the story goes.

The second story is that the Ryndwyrm protects the river from use by raiders - each time they have tried to move past Eanverness, their chief has been eaten. It may hate all legged things, but it delights in the blood of Norsefolk most - or so the story goes.

7HD / AC as Maille / Damage 1d6+2 & Save or Die from venom.

13.04 Methven

A skeleton garrison of 19 is within this fortified village. All are older men with the ear-cut - here to train recruits before they are sent to the Black Strath. They have seen generations of men leave and come back changed, as they once did. They are keen to share your drink and tell tall tales - in truth all are terrified of the thick green coiling before them, cupped between the mountains.

If a group returns from the Black Strath with casualties or twenty Orc heads, they offer to teach the Albann way of archery - rerolling 1’s rolled on damage rolls with Longbows.

19 footmen.

14.04 Rpthrglen

On the edge of the Black Strath, fields of oat and barley grow thick on the rich soil. The 76 people of Rpthrglen tend to them and their small herds of cattle, making their own cheese. Being on the edge of the Black Strath, tax collectors are rare, despite proximity to Eanverness. They funnel this surplus to the deserters in 16.04 - unwilling to see them starve or resort to banditry. Once a week, 4d6 deserters arrive at night to collect food.

The headman, Howar (3HD, Unarmoured, Sword) is the latest in an unbroken line. Many of the local sites are named after his forebears. He has yet to do something worthy of being remembered, and it worries away at him. If the opportunity came, he would throw himself into it. He is unaware of the relationship between the village and the deserters.

10 footmen, 10 skirmishers.

16.04 Deserter Camp

In the shallow forest that marks the beginning of the Black Strath, 24 deserters keep a meagre camp. They have yet to turn to banditry. Their attempts at hunting have been poor, and only the donations from Rpgthrglen keep them alive.

They are led by Crummock (4HD, Leather, Bow, Battleaxe) - he is trying to formulate a plan which leads them home, but is coming up short. His current thinking is to try and steal a ship and escape Fortu entirely. Many do not want to leave.

The bounty for deserters, alive or dead, stands at 25sp each. Ears, marked with a service-cut, are taken as proof.

They have a meagre collection of wealth, pooled in a vague plan of purchasing passage if theft is not an option (Bandits I):

• 400sp in Fortu coinage.
• 12 Iron Ingots, wrapped in oilcloth and buried. Worth 480sp.
• 2 full baskets of purple Aromatic Flowers, gathered within the Black Strath. Worth 200sp.
• 32 bottles of freeze-distilled beer, stolen from the quartermaster in Dun Dulnadd. Worth 320sp.

18.04 Wyvern Lair

A Wyvern lairs here, in the ruins of a drystone hovel. Amongst the wreckage, a Ghom to Latin dictionary in unbound sheets.

There is a 20% chance he is here otherwise returning on a 2-in-6 per Turn. He flies low as to not be seen by intruders - he delights in murder.

Those who take the dictionary will be hunted ruthlessly - the Wyvern will hold families hostage to incite others to hunt for its prey.

09.05 Dun Dulnadd

A dome of rock extends out from the mainland, connected only by a blade of land. Atop the dome, stacked stones form a fort, smoke bleeding upwards. Low wooden buildings crouch in the shadow of the walls, affording living space for the 50 defenders and their attendant 40 staff. Many of the staff (made up of wives and husbands of the defenders) are Ruis - those in the nearby villages want nothing to do with the soldiers of Dulnadd.

The Fort is controlled by Drest (HD 4, Full Length Maille, Two Handed Sword), one of the Four Counts. He is just past his prime, and his cruelties have magnified as a result. He gives his cronies freedom, as long as they act in his name. He is determined to live forever in memory.

He wants to see Contin (11.06) broken to his whims.

Drest howls at night. The island of Flodaigh haunts his dreams with visions of a crumbled tower.

Sea-caves riddle the lower parts of this dome of rock, all converging on a single tunnel used by the defenders to access their boats. Once, they were used for burial. Those bodies have long since been thrown out to sea.

30 armoured footmen, 10 skirmishers, 10 horsemen, 2 karvi-equivalent vessels

12.05 Hermit of Masks

A bedraggled, decrepit old man pisses in the fork of the river and laughs nastily to himself. He carries three masks, each made from the face of an Orc. He knows how to cast Charm Monster, but has never used it. He has forgotten his name and much else besides.
If he realises he has been spotted, he will flee towards the mountains (12.06). He is not hard to chase.

15.05 Arboreal Palace

c.w. mind control magic.

The dense foliage of the Black Strath takes on an imitative form here - a hall of twisted and gnarled branch and root in the arboreal gloom. No birds sing here without the permission of the self-made monarch. A Dryad dwells here, fifteen Orcs and five Picts bound utterly to their will. All wait within the wooden palace, silent as per her commands. Any loud noise draws the attention of the Dryad, who sends the warriors to capture the intruders that ‘oaths of fealty’ may be extracted from them.

The Picts and Orcs have faces full of shining love as they come at intruders with clubs and rope, eager for you to join them.

The Dryad has accumulated some wealth, understanding this to be a requirement of royalty. It is left in a small heap by the shrub-throne (Monstrous II):

• 600sp in silver Fortu coins.
• 200 Victory Aureus. (&T)
• 3 sealed containers of blessed soil, used to seed a churchyard. Worth 225sp.
• 2 vials of perfume - bought by a bonded warrior. Smells of wilting flowers. Worth 200sp.
• Three doses of Serpents Draught. (&T)

16.05 Rivertraps

Delicate spiderweb stretches from one side of the river to the other - constructed in many layers. Birds have been caught in it. Those with patience will see colonies of spiders scuttle out to feed upon fresh unfortunates. Harmless to humans.

17.05 Marlfagh

Where the hump of a hill crests the forest, a small hillfort. Corpses of orcs and Fortu warriors are strung from poles, and a black flag emblazoned with a red dog flies. Any moving openly are accosted in heavily accented Pictish - demanding to know your purpose approaching the independent fort of Marlfagh. Any claiming allegiance to Fortu are pelted with wooden javelins (-1 to Hit) until they leave. Otherwise, diplomacy-at-distance is possible.

The 64 inhabitants of Marlfagh are grim. They are keen to buy arms and armour - metal is especially sought after, and is worth double normal value. They offer a map of the Black Strath showing the rivers and settlements for 500sp. Otherwise, they allow rest within their fort for 50sp a night - paid in coins or weapons.

After several such stays, they may begin to warm, allowing future stays for free - assuming you will take on guard duty. The youth of Marlfagh are restless and curious - it is easy to find recruits here, but they will never work for Fortu interests.

20 footmen, 30 skirmishers.

18.05 Saliva Pool

Following the river, time-rotted skulls are nailed to trees and stone, marking a barrier. Each has a cross carved into the forehead.

The source of the river is a deep, round pool in the rock of the mountain. Around the lip of this pool, Ghom script is engraved : “Bitter waters await those who come bearing witness against Onthloug. Drink deep of his saliva and know.”

Those who drink the water from the pool and speak Latin have their tongues destroyed utterly.

10.06 Tonintoul

Every door in Tonintoul is freshly painted black. The 45 inhabitants mourn Ciniath, a beloved widow, trampled to death by drunken soldiers from Dulnadd. Despite the rich oat fields and heads of cattle, all seem thin and insubstantial. The depredations of Drest have enervated them.

Petty arguments are common between the villagers - with little to spare, they turn on one another.

The village will die within the year.

10 skirmishers.

11.06 Contin

In the shadow of the mountains, Contin and its 87 inhabitants dwell. They are secretive and distrust outsiders - even those from Tonintoul are not welcome to stay the night. The chapel is overgrown and seemingly disused. Dirt paths lead up to the mountains and towards the ruined temple to Onthloug (12.07). Before someone is considered an adult, they must leave a tooth in the temple. The same standard is applied to outsiders.

Those becoming adults are taught that repeating the name Onthloug protects from demons.

When soldiers from Dulnadd come for sport, they are met with the entire village armed with weapons. Seonaid (HD3, Maille, Sword) speaks for them when she refuses any and all demands - inviting the soldiers to trespass against them and experience the consequences first hand.

30 footmen, 10 skirmishers.

13.06 Occupied Fort

Heads are skewered atop each stake of this palisade-walled fort. The earth is torn up and rich with blood. A roof of layered, leafy branches leaves the interior of the fort in thicker shadow than the surrounding forest. 50 Orcs with a huge stockpile of reclaimed iron squat within, waiting for the commander to order them back to 19.06.

They carry shields and spears. Twenty of them have shortbows, each with twenty arrows.

The Commander (4HD, Heavy Lacquer Armour, Revenant Sword (&T), Shield) is ancient, awoken by the first strikes of pickaxes against the walls of the mountain. They know the ways of humans. They can speak Pictish.

They plan to burn the fort as they leave - when the rain next comes, each burdened with two iron ingots.

They have gathered a sizeable hoard (Monstrous III & Bandits II):

• 600sp in silver Fortu coins.
• 200 Bronze Imitations. (&T)
• 100 Iron Ingots worth 4000sp.
• A single draught of Liquid Empathy. (&T)

19.06 First Fortress

Carved out of the mountain itself, a fortress. Smoke pours from many smaller ventilation shafts, but during the day no other movement is visible on the surface. 340 Orcs claim this place as home, but there are always d6 bands of 20 out in the Black Strath. The rest sit and wait, eating their half-grown progeny. The interior walls are thick with texture-drawings - whorls, circles, rippling folds evoking feelings of encapsulation. Most have been alive for less than a decade - the 60 individuals older than this are venerated (+1 HD), wear Maille-equivalent armour made of mixed coins and wield Two-Handed Axes. The leader is absent, having promised to return with iron stolen from the mountains.

In each band of 20 orcs, ten carry swords and shortbows, whilst the rest have shields and spears. The older orcs form an elite block, and rarely leave the Fortress. One of them, draped in bear-fur, carries Uzelin (&T) - they do not understand the words it speaks, but they are able to use its powers.

There are always 80 orcs being grown. They are eaten, the iron recycled.

They have accumulated wealth in their long war. Much is heaped in the growing-chamber.(Monstrous IV):

• 12 Doubleface Drachm (&T)
• Demonface Coin (&T) - obverse featuring a grimacing dog-head.
  • The demon within manifests with the snarling face of hound, the body of a bloated spider with the legs of young women. The hands of children, burnt, grasp forward from either side of the head. It was last invoked by Proconsul Marius - it can speak of conspiracies, and can track prey.
• 6 ingots-worth of gold ore, worth 800sp.
• A Treeheart. (&T)
• A pouch of Throne Embers (&T), usable 6 times.
• In a chest, clearly destroyed and rebuilt, a Ghoul Drum. (&T)
• 2 Wisdom Teeth. (&T)
• 6 draughts of Temporary Disintegration. (&T)
• A Child of Stone, (&T) placed on altar of unworked rock.

12.07 Temple to Onthloug, the Eight Tongued God

1
A well maintained trail through the mountains leads upwards, terminating in a tarn, overhung by a twisted, leafless tree. The rock the tree grips overhangs a narrow passage into the rock of the mountain. Old, yellow skulls are stacked 4 high on either side of this entrance. The skulls have no teeth. 80 tongues, dried to leather and untouched by birds, are skewered on the branches of the tree. Above, an eagle screams - once.

The water in the tarn is utterly still, and bone-chillingly cold. A bronze shortsword can be seen at the bottom - still functional. The grip is shaped like a boar, the tusks forming the crossguard and the blade emerging like a tongue. Worshippers of Onthloug will pay respect to any who openly bears this blade.

2
This wide, cone-shaped passage is shaped like a throat. The walls are carved with crowned figures being torn in half, cities being drowned and the earth growing fangs to devour legions. Long dead candles, fuzzy with mould, are clustered along the edges of the walls. Wide leaves grow down from the ceiling, each twisted to face the sunlight coming from the entrance.

The passage continues into the mountain - adjacent to this, a wooden ramp allows access upwards to a different section of the complex.

3
A statue of Onthloug, carved out of the stone, emerges from the back wall. Three armed, each outstretched and ending in a set of seven clawed fingers. The head is a riot of tongues, coiling around one another, some straining up and out whilst others flop and wave. The statue is incredibly lifelike, showing minimal toolmarks - even the thick drippings of saliva have been captured. There is enough space, beneath the arms and tongues, for a single person to nestle as if held and protected like an infant.

Beneath the entrance, a passage continues down and into the mountain.

4
An oval chamber, niches carved into the walls. The niches contain flint blades, iron tongs and pliers. At the end of the chamber, a low wall of stacked stone encircles a pit, 150’ deep. Bloodstains mark the floor around the pit. An empty earthen bowl is suspended from the ceiling with horsehair rope - within a thick crusted residue of many many burnings.

The blades are made of single knapped pieces of flint, leather and twine used to form a handle. Each is marked with blood, as are the the tongs and pliers.

If a tooth is deposited into the pit, whomever dropped the tooth heals 1HP.
If a tongue is deposited into the pit, whomever dropped the tongue heals d6HP.
In either case, the wounds sealing are coated in thick, sticky saliva.

If a weapon is cast down, the Avatar crawls up to seek revenge. See 8.

5
Skeletons moulder before a huge man (HD 8, The Blooded Board (&T), Sword). Nude, and heavily tattooed with Christian iconography. Swords fills the room. He stands from his throne of sack-cloth, and declares death for intruders in archaic Pictish.

The man wears The Bound Hand (&T) - and uses this power to attack at range using the many swords in the room, resolving attacks normally. He does not flee.

His seat is made of the sacks of golden coins he was paid in - the 400 coins, each worth 10sp. They are stamped in Latin, are have an eagle on one face. The inscription reads “IMPERIAL PROVINCE ALBANN - BY GRACE OF EMPEROR AUGUSTIN”.

The many corpses show signs of having been hacked to pieces.

A nexus of passages meet at the lower edge of the chamber - a wooden floor allowing easy use.

6
Hidden beneath the wooden floor allowing access to 5 and 7, a narrow 20’ drop to a wide, flask-shaped chamber. Rotting bones fill the space along with scraps of ruined armour made from bands of steel. If searched for several hours, 200 chunky, gold coins (worth 10sp each) can be found as well as a bottle of Seeking Dark (&T), hidden in the folds of a robe.

Any spending this much time amongst the dead must make a Physique save or contract a disease. Over the next 3 days, they begin coughing up foul black paste coated in blood. This deals 1d6 Constitution damage a day, halved if no action is taken. Make a further Physique save each day - if two saves are made sequentially, the disease passes.

7
The narrow passage leading to this room is intricately carved so that the walls resemble, and have the texture of, teeth. A wet smell like a dirty wound fills the air.

The chamber is small and rounded. A narrow hole is at one end, the stone around it cupped and smoothed - so that a face could be pressed against the opening. The hole matches against the mouth. Any putting their face against this hole feel something stir on the other side. A tongue worms its way up the chute and forces its way into the mouth. If the victim has a tongue, it forces itself into the throat to choke them.
If they have no tongue, it fuses with the flesh but retains its own volition, speaking in unintelligible languages seemingly randomly. It does impart the ability to understand any spoken language.

8
A huge chamber, filled with saliva. In its own juices sits an Avatar of Onthloug in the aspect of absorption, ownership and devouring. It stands 30’ tall, a multitude of tongues twitching and coiling above the three arms. One holds a huge, rusted fork, another a stack and the final a crown.

Any intruding on this chamber are killed and consumed, wherein their consciousness lives forever as part of Onthloug.

15HD (Supernatural HP) / AC as Leather / Dodge Save or Die from immense crushing and skewering attacks.

15.07 Black Strath Burrows

Drained carcasses, skewered on branches, mark the home of the Black Strath Spiders. They hunt throughout the forest and drag their pray here, to be fed to their teeming broods. This dragging leaves a distinct trail. Victims are kept alive until fed to the swarms.

There are thirty burrows, each consisting of a single chamber. There is a 10% chance the occupant is present. There is a 40% chance a chamber contains a Spider Brood. They will, if disturbed, swarm prey, causing 1 HP damage a turn.

Corpses in this hex are either Picts or Orcs. They look shrivelled and deflated. Any equipment on them has been ruined. There is a 5% chance per Turn of finding a living victim, stored for later, hung in a tree, bundled up in web.

In this hex, do not roll encounters - instead, 1d6 Black Strath Spiders begin to independently stalk the party.

They are not web spinners - instead digging burrows and using their web as a net, casting it upon prey. They are sight-hunters, although they use the vibrations of heavy footfalls too. Outside of their own broods, they are solitary.

When attacking, they will attempt to ensnare the weakest member of a party and drag them away. They avoid engaging in long fights, fleeing into the branches. They have the patience to stalk prey for days - waiting for a distraction before striking.

HD 4 / AC as Leather / Damage 1d6 or Dodge Save, those failing ensnared in thrown web.

Across Albann, the story is told - the spiders were invited up from beneath the earth to scare away the invaders. After growing fat and round on the invaders, they were too big to crawl back into the dark corners of the earth - so they stayed in the Strath.

16.07 Dun Morbhaidh

A swathe has been cut from the forest, sharpened into spikes and placed in the rippling trenches surrounding the stone walls of this fort, abutting the wide, slow river. 180 soldiers, all with the cut ear, all scared, are posted here. They clutch bows, strain their eyes and listen. The Black Strath has tried to kill them all at least once.

The mud in the courtyard is heavily churned, and forms a thick sludge in the rain. The livestock are slow and passive.

Alcohol, drugs and luxury foods are at triple-price here, although soldiers have to club together to buy anything worth more than 30sp. Nothing is available for sale, and staying the night is not permitted without permission from the Count.

Tharain (4HD, Full Length Maille, Shield, Flail) has the unhappy duty of maintaining the fortress. He is one of the Four Counts - the soldiers posted here hate him more than most. Many have died due to his poor choices. His 12 hand-picked hearthsmen maintain order amongst the officers with secretive beatings. They watch outsiders closely, but do not engage. Tharain enjoys only submission - any who present a potential threat are to be destroyed ruthlessly. He hands out humiliation with glee.

90 footmen, 30 armoured footmen, 60 skirmishers, 12 horsemen.

17.07 Trimontium

Beneath a pall of smoke obscuring the mountain, Trimontium lurks. Only the outermost buildings are wooden - the rest is all old, cut stone placed under coercion of swords from across the sea. The smoke rises from the smelter - this is where the ore is processed before being floated down the river. The entire population of 612 is touched by this business.

Iron is dug from the mountains and from the half-collapsed mineshafts beneath Trimontium. The maintenance of these underground systems has long been forgotten, but the veins are rich - the kingdom of Fortu is founded on this iron-wealth alone.

Irb (1HD, None, Dagger) knows this - and is not afraid to strong-arm Coblaith as he strongarmed her husband. Trimontium is afforded a council (controlled by Irb). Irb is an inveterate schemer - he seeks to turn Tharain to an ally, but has been able to make much leeway. He would declare independence from Fortu, and use the terrors of the Black Strath as a wall.

The town is full of stories of the things that may be found in the deep mines - things worse than the creatures on the surface of the Black Strath. There are always bounties for recovering lost or dead miners. Many of these are years old. The wives and children of the miners carve grotesque gargoyles to protect the miners.

The ore dug up is bought by a single franchise-holder, Áine (3HD, None, Club), who works directly for Irb. The miners despise her rates, but despite risks there are always more willing to make the trip up-river to Trimontium.

60 footmen, 60 skirmishers.

10.08 Medemeter

Plague has consumed Medemeter, reducing it down to 23 people. Of those, 16 will die. The remaining 7 will travel to Guthram, be abducted by The White Thread and used as sacrifice.

Each of the thirty huts has a red X painted across the door. Feral dogs run in packs of twelve - begging and snapping at travellers for food.

A scarecrow has been erected in the centre of the village beside the well. A corpse, fever-bloated, teeth fallen from bloody sockets, welt-rich and boil-wealthy, is hunched beneath it - like a loyal hound. The dogs do not eat it.

A nearby tree bends beneath the weight of the crows, waiting for the last cow to starve to death. One of their number has been trampled trying to pre-empt this. It crawls, wings shattered, making a broken cawing sound.

13.08 Burnt Cairn

Within an overhang stands a tall cairn, the stones scorched. The cairn is built around Itheadair Cinnidh (&T). The weapon is unmarked by flames.

Within the cairn are burnt bones, a broken dagger, a sundered helm and a golden ring (50sp). The ring has ‘FORGIVENESS’ written in Latin on the outside.

14.08 Cuimridh

A young cousin to Trimontium, built in wood and drystone stacks. Burnt sections are left, harvested for charcoal - Cuimridh burns often, and has burnt recently. The forest of the Black Strath seems to recoil, the wide swath of cut trees clearing space around it. The plants closest to the town look yellow.

The mountain upriver is wounded - an open-pit mine goring the stone. They mine for silver and lead. The smelting process releases toxic smoke, killing birds which fly over the settlement. Much of the population of 578 are pale and unwell. Children gather and grind the bones of the dead birds - the bonemeal is paid for, part of the process of silver extraction. All drink a tea made of Cowslip to ward off illness, although it seems to do little for them.

Heavily armed convoys make the journey to Trimontium once a month, using troops pulled from Dun Mobhaidh. This journey results in many of the losses to the Black Strath. They carry silver ingots and lead bars. Attempted bandits are used for spider-bait - those surviving are tortured publicly.

Oswiu (2HD, Full Length Maille, Shield, Sword) rules Cumridh - he is one of the Four Counts. He desperately jockeys for favour with Colbaith to escape this poison town - he can feel the cough beginning low in his chest. His expansive family - ten siblings, twenty cousins - are here with him, similarly desperate to escape. They have no loyalty to one another.

40 footmen, 60 skirmishers.

09.09 Guthram

All the tongues of Albann and Ruislip can be heard commingling on the shadowed streets of Guthram. It always smells of fish and ale. Heavily armed raiders swagger in the streets, bowing their heads to those wearing the yellow-black colours of the town. 872 call Guthram home - free from the distant rule of kings, but burdened by the rule of a pirate-queen.

Darlugdach (5HD, Maille, Battleaxe), having conquered the town a decade ago, now uses it to demand toll from all ships using the channel between Albann and Ruislip. Whether they travel for peace or raids is no concern of hers. If they offload loot and seek shelter in Guthram? All the better. Her soldiers have no qualms about killing trouble-makers - she knows this port is the only home for reavers in the isles.

One of her soldiers, Birger (3HD, Maille, Axe, Bow) has learnt of a cult (The White Threads) amongst the residents of the town. They abduct drunk visitors, and using an immense system of caves, travel under the earth to feed these abductees to the thing in 11.10. Birger seeks outsiders to capture the beast - he believes its blood would make him impervious to swords. He is wrong.

The White Threads believe their sacrifices keep the creature away from Guthram. They are correct. Without their guidance, travel through the caves is nearly impossible - becoming lost a near certainty.

Dwelling near the docks is Birger, old and crooked. He tends the grave of his mother, a witch who fled Faroe long ago. In his hovel are six candles of Mullein, burnt when he fears the return of his mothers friends.

100 armoured footmen, 50 skirmishers, 6 Karvi plus 5 fishing boats.

14.09 Songbirds

Those travelling through this hex are followed by brightly covered songbirds which twitter and chirp. Yellow, red, blue flashes in the branches. They keep a reasonable distance, but seem to work in teams to ensure the party are under constant observation.

15.09 Hunger Manse

Between the trees, remains of stone walls - the outskirts of a fort, built in a style not native to Albann. Square, straight-edged. Within the outer walls, a heaped ruin. Atop it, a banner - the deep red faded to the barest shade of pink, the triumphant bull a suggestion of a figure. The pile of stones is riddled with holes, and the floor beneath them riddles with bones, cracked and gnawed, licked and abraded. Slugs of ruined iron are found amongst them.

Within the pile lair 22 Ghouls - those who never got the orders to return, and over long years have eked out meat and life. Both have stretched thin - hunger burns within bellies taut, a demand stronger than death.

2d6 of them are out hunting for corpses in the Black Strath, not due to return for days. The rest wait, straining ears chewed away to holes. They listen to intruders, and creep closer to the surface - ready to drag them into the tunnels.

3 perfect ghoul statues stand guard before the tunnels.

At the base of the tunnels, they still guard the wealth left here (Monstrous III):

• 300 heavy gold coins. They are stamped in Latin, are have an eagle on one face. The inscription reads “IMPERIAL PROVINCE ALBANN - BY GRACE OF EMPEROR AUGUSTIN”. Each is worth 10sp.
• An ancient, vellum map of northern Albann written in Latin. It is wrapped around a slight brass key. All labels bar one have been crossed out in a scratchy hand. The isle of Lothing [21.03], has been labelled ‘Treasury’.
• 4 Bitter Builders (&T)

16.09 Quiet Pool

Heavy moss brackets a delicate pool of pure, clean water. Around it lean 6 trees, conspiratorial. Each looks ancient, the bark forming twisted faces. They are Ennts, and have rested here since the invaders left, watching the successive waves of violence and conquest.

If they are disturbed, all awaken. They are friends to none, and will rampage across Albann after attempting to dispatch the party. They will first try and destroy towns and cities, before exterminating villages. They will clear the Black Strath first, causing an iron and silver shortage in Albann and Ruislip.

Once awoken, it is suggested they are tracked on the map, travelling 1 hex a day regardless of terrain. There is a 5% chance one is defeated per settlement - 15% if the settlement has siege weapons. They travel as a group of 6 until all settlements in the Black Strath have been destroyed - then they split up, doubling the chances they are defeated.

18.09 Crumbling Tower

Amongst the sheer cliffs, where the mountains plunge towards the sea, a round tower. Built unlike the invaders or the people of Albann - smoothed with mud cut with narrow windows throughout. Spars of wood jut at intervals, showing 3 floors within. There is no entrance on the ground floor - the first floor has a small wooden door, inaccessible without a ramp, ladder or rope to climb.

This is the home of a deathless sorcerer, Mergyl (3HD, None, Shortsword). They abandoned the Druid cult in pursuit of personal power, and travelled the earth. They are afraid to leave - time may not kill them, but blades can.

They carry the following items:

• 3 earth-stained wooden figurines (used for Hold Person).
• 2 live Light-Drinking Cave Eels in a slimy jar (used for Colour Spray).
• 2 sets of eyes harvested from mother foxes (used to cast Darkness).
• a Cloud Giant finger (used to cast Lightning Bolt).
• a bag of Hydra Teeth (used to cast Animate Dead).
• a vial containing 3 doses of the Blood of Command (&T) - affecting Plants.

Upon their finger is Ommon. (&T)

They are willing to gift the knowledge and material components for Hold Person, Colour Spray and Darkness for those able to bring him a griffon chick. He knows about the nest in Shoal (05.05). They call down this offer from a window on the Second Floor to those approaching. He wishes to groom the griffon for marriage, thereby adding Fly to his repertoire.
If violence looks likely, they will cast Hold Person, then Darkness, then Animate Dead. Colour Spray is used if any manage to enter the tower, and Lightning Bolt only if defeat seems likely.

Ground Floor
Unlit and dusty - sounds echoes strangely in this cramped chamber. A borehole leads straight down into the rock - a rope heading straight down. Hauling on the rope for 5 minutes brings up a Light-Drinking Cave Eel. Live bait is required to attract another. Fishing for more than 3 days consecutively will kill the population of eels. A half-ladder leads up to the First Floor.

First Floor
In through the tight wooden door, a circular room filled with tomes in all manner of languages. Sacrificial daggers are scattered, as are lifeless, shineless crystals. A suit of Heavy Armour from the far south is propped in one corner, fringed with silks bearing delicate patterns.

Second Floor
Entirely empty bar a small floor cushion - this is where Mergyl sits and worries and listens for the tread of Death.

11.10 Surface Caverns

As the mountains begin, an opening in the stone and earth. It leads down to limestone caves, full of round curves and plunges. The darkness grows close and wet. The passages extend on for days. Without mitigation, becoming lost is guaranteed. The White Thread know a single route - deviation is fatal.

In the blackness, something slithers. Darkness has bleached its scales. The close-pressed stone has atrophied its limbs. Long isolation has cultivated its hunger. It does not strike to kill, only to clamp on before slithering away with a screaming prize. As it drags victims away, it whispers to them - it whispers of infinite vaults and crawling things beneath the soil. It promises to show them these things before it consumes them.

HD 4 (Supernatural) / AC as Maille/ 1d6 Damage and Physique or Dodge Save to avoid being grabbed.

13.10 Driven Warrior

A young Brythonic warrior, Ortor (2HD, Shield, Sword) pulls on his horses reins - the horse being stuck in the thick mud. He does not ask for help with words - but has plenty of pleading looks. To those who help, he explains that he seeks Itheadair Cinnidh, an enchanted blade. He would use it to kill the father of his beloved, who denies them marriage. He has heard it lies somewhere in the mountains.
Unassisted, he will be killed by orcs.

Unfortunately for Ortor, patricide will not endear his beloved.

16.10 Crater

A wound in the side of a hill, 2’ across. Within is a shimmering lump of meteoric iron, shrouded in alien glasses. A crystallised badger skeleton is fused with it, but can be broken off if careful.

There is enough iron to make a sword, or two shortswords. Powdered entirely, it is enough for five castings of Teleport.

10.11 Brychdyn

Before the lawless reach of Guthram, the palisade-girdled village of Brychdyn, home to 96, squats. Sparse trees on the plains offer little shelter from the wind, coursing in from the sea towards the mountains. Paddocks spread like spilled water - horses outnumber the residents. The annual races are famous.

Less known to most is the price they pay to Guthram - any bandit or killer bearing a seal from Darlugdach is not to be stopped nor reported, and furnished with horses if they are fleeing. Darlugdach pays back twice the normal rate of the horse. Corruption has seeped in deeply.

Blethyn (2HD, Shield, Sling, Spear) plans to send his son, Ednyfed (1HD, Shield, Sword) to court Darlugdach. He will pay a likely band 400sp for his safe delivery. Darlugdach will allow him to stay in her entourage, but simply use him as a hostage to leverage greater control of Brychdyn.

The priest, Eilian, charges 100sp a head to shelter bandits in the basement of the church, regardless of their affiliation with Darlugdach. If this is discoverd, Blethyn is required to tear him apart with horses.

Many of the horses were requisitioned by the Roaming Court before they were born - held in trust until the annual race.

When the Roaming Court is here - a huge amount of horses being reshoed, bred, swapped and put down. Blethyn is grim and silent in the presence of his King - he dares not speak to him of the thieves to the north.

40 horsemen (with AC as Light)

11.11 Fleeing Baker

Travelling through the hills, a young peasant, Eilian, explodes out of the undergrowth and tries to hide in any carts, or simply behind the party. In Brythonic, they promise to explain later. Pursuing them comes a tall, angry older peasant, who demands to know if the party as seen ‘a young waif or such.’ They brandish a rolling pin.

If the party hand over Eilian, they receive a clip around the ear and are dragged back to Rhaglan.
If not, Eilian thanks them - they were held in an unfair apprenticeship as a cheesemaker, and decided to flee. They have yet to consider a plan much beyond this.

15.11 Dun Bedale

A small wooden fort sits beside the river. From it protrudes a heavy, iron-reinforced bar - blocking the river. The symbol of Fortu flutters above the fort. 10 soldiers, all bored and thankful for it, spend their time fishing. All of them are furious with one another - their goose has escaped, depriving them of eggs. Their lumpy, misshapen cow yearns for freedom.

The fort is useless - the Black Strath cutting off any rapid communication whilst acting as a barrier to invasion. None of them spend much time considering this. They impose an inflated tax on boats from Cuimridh, keeping the difference for themselves. The last garrison did the same.

Once a month, a warrior from Hwicce rides to them and makes merry, bringing Norse-style mead and beef. Eventually, he will ask them to defect in accented Brythonic. They will say yes.

7 footmen, 3 skirmishers.

16.11 Empty Boat

An empty boat, half-beached on the boggy soil. Within is a greatsword, a mail shirt and a helmet. The inside of the boat shows marks of light burning, and scraps of burnt fabric litter the bottom.

If the equipment is taken, the party are stalked by a water-logged corpse, eyes still burning. They attack at night until the equipment is returned to the boat, and the boat burnt. Their soft, yielding flesh absorbs blows. No blood oozes from the wounds.

Revenant 3HD* / AC as Maille/ 1d6 Damage
*Supernatural HP

19.11 Bodil’s Runestone

The sandy beach extends too far inland here - a yellow-grey scar in the landscape, studded with dunes topped with marram grass. Amongst them, a single deep-grey runestone, carved with Norse runes. It reads “Bodil came here across the whaleroad and slew a demon with eight tongues. As it died, its foul breath killed the plants and birds besides. Bodil did this task single handedly whilst her husband cowered behind his shield. Afterwards, she slew him too, and took wives herself.”

Buried at the foot of the runestone, although there is no indication, is a pitted iron axe head, wrapped with bands of silver. Re-hafted and used against demons, spirits and gods, it deals 1d6+2 damage and adds 2 to hit.

21.11 Salt-Rimed Thomas

Upon the beach, without cover nor fire, can be found Salt-Rimed Thomas, a Giant. The Norse call him Thrasir.
Sometimes he digs, scooping up huge handfuls of sand. The stones and shells cut his hands, and the sea-water stings. Many swords and arrows bristle from his naked hide. One eye has been put out - the stretched skin of the one who did it is used as an eye-patch.

He examines visitors with one bleary eye. He looks for artists - musicians are his favourite. Any carrying an instrument, he tries to abduct, scooping them up and running into the sea to avoid combat. In a rumble, he demands songs. He chews his fingers to a bloody pulp whilst listening, and demands more.
Those refusing to play are thrown to the beach, taking 3d6 damage.

One a month, he journeys to Jork and demands a musician. So far, they have done so.

In combat, he runs away and launches stones from beyond normal missile range.

A huge, dirty sack, made just for him, contains all his possessions (Monstrous II):

• 600sp
• 2 vials of ambergris, worth 300sp.
• 20 rations of smoked bacon, worth 400sp.
• A tub of The Reviled Ointment (&T) - enough for 4 uses.
• 11 animal corpses in various states of decomposition.

12.12 Rhaglan

The village of Rhaglan is surrounded by their long-legged wetland cows. Picts, Norsefolk and Ruis alike do not trust these bovines - only Brythons herd them. Between the herds, raised beehives are dotted, a somnolent buzzing emerging at all hours.

The 98 inhabitants of Rhaglan make much of their cheese - each cluster of buildings another secret recipe. Rivalry is common - the young men of each farmstead often race on horseback, kicking and shoving one another. Death or injury is not punished. Apprentices from other villages make up for those lost to the races.

Siôn (3HD, Leather, Bow, Sword) killed four in his youth, and has buried four sons in turn. His authority is Rhaglan is absolute when it comes to outsiders. Internal disputes do not concern him.

A third of the cows and hives bear the mark of the Roaming Court, earmarked for consumption when they next visit.

The elders know that the blood, skull or shoe of a horse protect from witch-craft, although there has been no cause to use such a ward for years.

When the Roaming Court is here - a huge slaughter and smoking of meat and cheese as the Court resupplies.

10 skirmishers, 10 horsemen (AC as leather).

14.12 Bog Pigs

40 feral pigs nest here. They softly oink and grunt to one another, watching travellers closely. They will do anything to not be recaptured. If one of theirs is killed, they intend to repay it in blood.

15.12 Carchar y Ymwelydd

Rotted stones survey the fen. Perched atop a hill and abandoned, a pale imitation of the chain of forts constructed by ancient invaders. Each stone has a long lead spike driven through it, pointing outwards.

Between the stones, a leaden disc, 10’ wide. Upon it, a knotwork skull stares up at the sky. Stylised burning animals dance around it. A combined strength of 35 is requires to shift the disc. Within is a 10HD Green Slime. Tendrils begin to form and reach up and out.

If loosed and not defeated, Hwicce would be destroyed before the slime, bigger than cities, slithered back into the ocean. The Norsefolk rulers would perish entirely, their line sundered. The villages would be devastated. The land would be left a lifeless wasteland until next spring, when the first shoots of new life would emerge.

Fortu and Ergyng would go to war over the land, violence intensifying as the plants take root once more. The Fallen Druids would wait until both were weak before taking advantage.

17.12 Desecrated Barrows

Upon the horizon, nine silver crosses atop hills. They pierce deep into the barrows - denying ancient Brythonic monarchs rest. Each has clawed out from their barrow, a Wraith wild with rage. Those who would come and give them peace are torn apart by their thralls - and the soldiers in The Ringfort ensure survivors do not escape. Those who would rebel against the Norse occupiers are executed nearby, bodies left in an open pit.

Each of the nine Wraiths has five Zombies, equipped with Maille, Shields and Swords. Destroying the forms of the Wraiths do nothing whilst the silver crosses disturb their graves, but they only recognise them as grave goods, each defending the other. The thralls defend the mounds whilst the sun shines.

Combining the contents of nine king-barrows gives an abundance of grave-goods (Tomb IV, doubled):

• 1400sp in old Brythonic silver coins
• 3 vials of sacred unguents, worth 300sp.
• 5 sacks of (still viable) ornamental seeds, for growth in the afterlife. Worth 400sp.
• 9 rings for rulers dead - worth 900sp.
• Gilt Chariot (&T)
• Giantish Sword (&T)
• A single measure of The Eager Dose. (&T)
• A Learned Spider, (&T) trapped in a glass jar - hibernating.
• A pouch of Worm Bones. (&T)

19.12 Auld Emyr

Where the river turns sluggish is where Auld Emyr’s domain begins. A Giant Pike, bright silver after all these years. Impossibly big - some have said 20’ long.

The first story is that down this fork of the river, there used to be a city. They grew rich on trade, but did not pay Auld Emyr his share. He rampaged the river, destroyed any boat bound for this lost city. The city died without the river-trade, but Emyr rampages still - or so the story goes.

The second story is that Emyr was the second son of a king. He grew jealous of the firstborn, coveted his lands. He forged a blade of silver to slay the brother. The king discovered the plan, and died from grief at having raised such a son. He had already decreed that the land would go to the first son, and the waters to the second. The brothers never reconciled, and that is why Auld Emyr sinks any vessel upon his domain - or so the story goes.

The third story is that Emyr was mined out of the mountains, and swam downstream to escape the forges. He only fears being melted down and reduce to some bauble - or so the story goes.

HD 9 / AC as Plate / 1d6+3

20.12 Caer Dymunol

Marring the waving green, a blackened, ruined pile. Scorched stones, cracked from heathen heat set to them not yet a century ago. Over an afternoon, one could reconstruct the fort that must have stood, stacked stones sitting high, imitating those forts left by other invaders beyond living memory.

Brythons in Hwicce dare not trespass those who fell against their new rulers. Norsefolk of Hwicce will loudly dismiss the fort as nothing but a ruin - yet none have returned to search out the lower depths, said to hold the wealth Queen Dyfid stored there against the invasion.

Whilst in and atop the ruins of Caer Dymunol, the air feels appreciably cooler. Wind dies, and the smell of ash is omnipresent. The grounds are haunted by the ghost of Queen Dyfid. Like a moth, she is drawn to flames - an echo of the conflagration that consumed her and the keep. It takes 1d6 Turns for her find fire, drifting incorporeally from room to room.
In the presence of firelight she is able to physically manifest, a collection of burning sheets wrapped around a molten figure. She seeks only to kill those bearing flames. She makes one attack at +4 each Round, dealing 1d6 damage. Any attack causing 6 damage ignites the target, who takes an additional 1d6 damage a round until extinguished.
Dyfid may not be harmed - weapons pass through her.
Once the fire is extinguished, she begs for help in a barely audible voice. In the dark, ghostly arms caress her would-be saviours.

Amidst the spars and stones and bones, there are two entrances to the Basement floor. The first is a charred, burnt trapdoor (1-A), buried beneath a fallen beam. It requires a combined strength of 30 to shift the beam - or several hours with a woodsman’s axe. The other is the remains of a chimney chute (1-D), requiring stones to be cleared away.

Per Turn, roll 1d12 and consult the Encounter Chart.

Floor 1

1
Curling dust and ash dance in the air - a small chamber, the stone heavily cracked. Above, a trapdoor, blocked by a heavy beam. To the East and South, molten heaps of iron mark the floor of doorways. The stink of vinegar from the East overpowers even the smell of old, wet fire.

2
Destroyed wood, stained deep purple, litters what was once a wine-cellar, reeking of vinegar. Stunted rats move across the stained soil, their paws matching the remnants of the barrels. Molten glass forms delicate tracery amongst the wreckage. Those watching closely notice the rats never go to the South.

3
Across blackened shelves rats scurry. Anything that was not burnt has been gnawed away by rodents. Shredded sacks form nests everywhere - those crossing the room carelessly have a 2-in-6 chance of crushing a nest of baby rodents. The mother with run up any trouser legs and begin biting.

4
Puddles of metal mark the floor and walls, catching the minimal sunlight that comes from the chimney. Bones gnawed to splinters are arranged in neat rows, radiating outward from the fireplace.

5
Ten suits of fire-chewed armour are clustered together in the middle of this chamber. Destroyed spears and arrowheads litter the floor besides walls. Within the suits are heat-deformed skeletons - gnawed by rat teeth.

6
A huge assemblage of scorched bones, unchewed, form a cone towards the Eastern wall. Flattened rats - forming discs of fur - litter the floor by the entrances. If an open flame is carried into the room, it uncoils, a Salamander - and seeks to warm itself. Fire or blood - both will be pursued. Neither will satisfy.

If any are adjacent to the Eastern wall when the Salamander attacks and misses, the wall is destroyed, revealing the hidden room G. Otherwise, this will have to be found and done with hammers and picks - 3 Turns of work.

7
Wooden Druidic sculpture, heavy with Ghom carvings, shares space with golden Christian iconography. Locked (but dry-rotted) chests contain the wealth of the kingdom denied to the invaders. Before a black granite statuette of Onthloug, three-armed, bearing weapons, the proliferation of tongues holding laughing children, is the body of Dyfid, dried but unchewed by rats. At her hip is a Cracked Horn (&T), and upon her finger a False Gift (&T). She wears silvered mail and a sword with milky opals in the hilt (worth 400sp).

In the chests (Tomb IV*):

• 1200sp in old silver Brythonic coins.
• 15 Doubleface Drachm (&T)
• A chest-full of mixed quality jewellery - worth 800sp in total.

The assorted religious icons could be sold for 1000sp, but would fill a wagon.

*Note that some of the hoard is hidden further in.

8
The stones are far more cracked here than elsewhere - the soot thicker and darker. Nothing else remains of any contents. Any Fire Elementals brought here add 2 HD and add 2 to all Damage rolls.

9
Bones, ash, molten metal. Another room like the last. The bones twitch in the peripheral vision of those moving through the chamber. They do not move if observed directly. Picked up and thrown, all point towards the nearest fire.

10
Stairs leading down, and into the dark.

Floor 2

1
Descending the stairs, the damage to the stones is reduced - the walls less blackened.

2
Pools of solid glass, thicker at the centre, fill the room. Stepped on, they break like thin ice.

3
The walls of this chamber are carved into large reliefs - a pictorial sequence, free from language.
The earliest panels depict the coming of invaders from the sea, armoured in bands of metal. They conquer the southern regions of Albann, and the people suffer. From amongst them, a king emerges, and drives the invaders back over the sea. This king grows old. He loads a ship with treasure, and sails to a forested isle. From this isle, he sits on a stone throne, and watches a foreign coast. He holds a javelin, covered in spikes. Rays of light emerge from his finger.

4
In rusted maille, 11 Skeletons grip axes. Scraps of burnt flesh still cling to their bones - rendered fat to their amour. They await the breach from the invaders.

5
Deformed iron bars separate off six smaller cells - four of which contain piles of bone, backed into the corners. Gates set into the bars are fused - 3 Turns work to pry each loose. Amongst each pile of bones, 1d6 Victory Aureus (&T) can be found, depicting a boar being torn to pieces.

6
Amongst half-burnt furniture and scraps of fabric, a Salamander coils, dying over and over. The glow is less than embers - in such a state, it is all the more eager to steal your heat.

7
The walls are marked with the scorched remains of tapestries. In the centre of the room, a pedestal, untouched by flames. Atop it, a Genealogical Tree, detailing the lineage of Dyfid and her hero-ancestors who overthrew invaders once before.

8
A mineral stink precedes this room. Boiled out from the walls and the earth, the blood of conquests, execution and dynastic oppression has formed into a Black Pudding - dormant until torchlight rouses it. It will pursue as long as it takes, crawling across the countryside - blighting the earth.

08.13 Treorci

Scant few fishing vessels bob alongside the town of Treorci despite its size - home to 91. Watching closely, the fishing boats are crowded with warriors. Watchtowers ring the city, watching the sea and the shore of Ruislip. Pirates are common - many vessels have been sunk, and the few that go out offer to pay 30sp a trip to guards. Most in the town are bilingual - switching mid-sentence from Brythonic to Ruis.

Donnchadh (3HD, Leather, Shield, Bow, Spear) rails against Llewlyn for allowing the raids to continue. Not a day passes where he does not audibly curse Guthram. Any who killed Darlugdach, or convinced Llewlyn to raise an army, would have his eternal loyalty.

A meagre collection of fish-oil has the stamp of the Roaming Court upon it.

When the Roaming Court is here - Donnchadh drinks heavily, trying to build up the nerves to speak to his king. The displeasure at the amount of fish-oil they have gather dissuades him.

10 footmen, 20 skirmishers, 2 fishing vessels.

09.13 Sinkhole

A hole in the earth interrupts the gently rolling grasslands. Egg-shaped, 30’ by 15’ at its thickest point. Arches of white rock catch the light from the surface - rounded and organic. The bones of the earth. A slope can be seen some 40’ down, leading away and into the darkness beneath the soil. Body-temperature water flows over the stone. It feels thick to the touch.

10.13 Centaur Grove

12 Centaurs lair in a series of crude lean-to structures, built in a thicket of trees, hidden from casual sight. They have no fire. Bludgeoned animal corpses are scattered between empty barrels and jars, stained wine-red.

Each Centaur is centuries old, and has never taken a name. They have yet to grow bored of violence. They especially delight in the pursuit and killing of animals. Humans are spared their attentions, unless they are drunk. If they can smell drink, they will cajole and bully to try and take it.

There is a 20% chance they are in their lair - otherwise returning on a 2-in-6 per Turn. They will be heard 1 Turn away, yelling and whooping, either dragging an animal corpse or driving a living beast before before them, throwing stones and whirling their two-handed clubs.

13.13 Maeyfed

Much smoke rises from the hastily erected chimneys of Maeyfed - home to 160, and stretched to the limit. Of the population, nearly half fled Norsefolk rule during the foundation of Hwicce - or else are the children of these refugees. This has led to a stratification - the Old Families keep to themselves, and are unlikely to share with the Young Families happily. They keep their houses tidy whilst the new shelters succumb to rot.

Cathan (2HD, Shield, Sling, Sword) finds himself representing the Young half the village. Naturally, he is in a secret relationship with Mari, the daughter of Seren (3HD, Maille, Club), the matriarch of the Old Families. Seren plans to allow a marriage if both leave the village - Mari hopes such a union would heal the rift.

20 footmen, 10 skirmishers.

15.13 Eightfold Sacrifice Returned

Eight Mummies, bound together with bronze chain, trudge through the water and mud. Each has had their lower jaw removed, tongues elongated with gold weights. They move to try and encircle prey before hacking them to death with flint axes.

There is 15’ of chain between each Mummy. Each has 350sp worth of golden jewellery - necklaces, piercings, bracelets, rings.

Elsewhere in the area, dead pitch-diggers, hacked to death.

16.13 Messenger

Emerging from the soupy waters of the bog is a long-preserved corpse. The clothes have long since rotted away, but the hands, mummified to leather, still clasp a lead tube. Within are orders, written in Latin - recalling the garrison of a fortress. If presented to the Ghouls in 15.09, they will form up and march South and into the ocean.

18.13 The Ringfort

A wall rises from the earth - inwards-leaning wooden stakes forming a ring, protecting the long hulls of Norse houses. Watchers stand along the wall, and smoke rises behind them - a ringfort, some of the wood still bleeding sap. It is still too young to have a name. 110 soldiers dwell within, alongside an equal number of non-combatants. 70 of these soldiers are Norse, the sons of those who first carved Hwicce from Brythonic lands - the rest are subjects looking to advance themselves.

Bo (HD 4, Maille, Shield, Axe, Spear, Javelin) is dour and grey. He saw the foundation of Hwicce as a child, and grows tired of command. Many rings and tokens from Thorkell litter his chambers, but he only sees the corpses of friends that paid for such honours. He is one of the last Norsefolk to have not converted to Christianity.

He has a long-standing bounty of 1500sp on Auld Emyr - the one who killed his father and his wife. His men are forbidden to try and collect - too many have died already.

20 skirmishers, 20 footmen, 40 armoured footmen, 30 horsemen, 1 karvi.

19.13 Injured Wolf

A wolf limps, a snare dug deeply around a foreleg. If fed, healed and treated respectfully, it could be partially tamed.

07.14 Ylmo, The Last Bear

The bears of Albann have all been hunted and killed.

Except Ylmo.

The first story is that Ylmo overheard hunters planning how they would trap and kill her. She spoke to the trees, and promised to water their roots with blood if they would let her hide inside their trunks. The trees debated, but relented in the end. Ylmo has hid and ambushed ever since - or so the story goes.

The second story is that Ylmo, learning that she was the last bear, roared so loud she broke her voice. She has never made a sound since, with throat or paw - or so the story goes.

The third story is that Ylmo scorned the sea - it offered to help her escape from Albann, and she called it a coward. Ever since, salt-water has been lethal poison to her - or so the story goes.

Ylmo lairs in an assuming hill, partially hidden by surrounding, higher hills. Several fallen trees create a low canopy for her to slink under and hide.

There is a 60% chance Ylmo is in her lair - otherwise returning on a 1-in-6 per Turn. She always creeps up slowly, and checks for intruders if not distracted.

HD 14 / AC as Plate / Damage 1d6+3

08.14 Cernyff

Walled and smoky, Cernyff is a city of bridges over the river delta. The 2596 residents, speaking Brythonic and Ruis, are considered haughty by the rest of Ergyng - a centre of crafts and religious learning. A cathedral is being built - the workers encamped outside the walls in tentcloth shadow-city. Architects from across Albann consult on the construction. The old stones of abandoned fortifications are cleaned and repurposed.

The city is ruled by Prince Llwelyn (HD 3, Plate, Sword), favourite of the church. He is known to be close with the Archbishop Mab - much of his authority is seceded to her. This has empowered a wave of constructions throughout Ergyng, which has reduced funding elsewhere - most notably in the navy, set to patrol the Ruislip Channel. When the time comes to nominate a new king, Llwelyn plans to be sworn in as a priest - unable to sire heirs, therefore unsuited to the throne.

Mab travels with a pack of church-raised hounds, given as gifts to Christians who fight the witch and the beast. These dogs never test morale against supernatural foes.

The proliferation of arts serve the expensive tastes of the priesthood - Cernyff is considered the centre of culture on Albann. Low-weight, high-value goods are commonly traded, where pirates can be avoided. Adjunct to the planned cathedral is an already extant school - with access to the coffers of the church, although no inclination to haggle. They are as likely to use force to take what they feel belongs to them.

50 armoured footmen, 50 footmen, 50 skirmishers, 100 horsemen, 3 karvi-equivalent plus 5 fishing boats.

09.14 Wynne, the Ward

Any travelling along the river during the day will find the way blocked by a stout tree-trunk, set about with ropes and hooks. Atop it, a youth with a sling demands 30 silver for passage in Brythonic. They are well-dressed, and any with experience in Ergyng recognise them as a favoured ward of a noble family by the gold ring they wear.

If paid, they drop the silver into the river and runs away, laughing nastily.
If threatened, they will run away and report you to their family - a sure cause of issues.
If killed, a bounty of 500sp will be advertised for their whereabouts.

11.14 St Anfan’s Monastery

At the centre of a spread of small gardens, a monastery of grey stone housing 75 monks. Wicker beehives are scattered throughout - the low hum of bees is constant. Eleven standards are planted in the earth nearby - marking the presence of noble houses. Each is worn, the heraldic animals animated by the wind.

The abbot, Tomos, is not a favourite of King Cadoc - the Roaming Court never visits the monastery. A collection of 11 disfavoured nobles fill the hostels. None would move openly against the King - but they could be convinced to, with a suitable plan. Any such plots overheard are retold to Tomos who informs Prince Llwelyn via messenger. The Prince will use this as blackmail to involve plotters (player characters and nobles alike) in his schemes.

The monks cultivate the ivy clinging to the building carefully - explaining it is God’s hand of protection against witches or the devils of the land.

The Monastery is wealthy (Temple II):

• 4000sp in silver Ergyng coins
• 53 silver Nomad Bowls (&T)
• 71 gold Nomad Bowls (&T)
• 5 bottles of Ergyng wine, worth 100sp
• A figurine of St Anfan in ivory, worth 400sp
• Atop one of the graves the Monastery overlooks, a Puddingstone (&T). Within the grave is a Fallen Druid (as Druid, serving Onthloug), not permitted to die but unable to escape the grave, the weight of earth sealing them within.

12.14 Elfhome

Beside the river, a ramshackle camp - fireless, invisible at night. 19 Elves dwell within - wearing worn, cast-off clothing and holding makeshift weapons. Their faces are unmarked but for vague confusion. They remember nothing but emerging from the river. Some have drowned themselves trying to return to the river. Those remaining wait for others to come - each month, another 1d4 emerge and join the camp. They have nothing to offer, but are starving - untrained in fishing or hunting.

They have the feeling of visitors. When one dies, the corpse decomposes in minutes. They have a lifespan of 24 months, and gain the knowledge of a random spell for each month of life after the first year. The oldest here is 11 months old.

16.14 Sculptor’s House

An airy house, constructed from a mix of styles, stands attended only by a stable. The sound of hammering and sobbing can be heard. Within the stable, Efa chisels a huge slab of stone into a monstrous form, copying an existing statue which sits in a shadowed corner. It has no clear form - impressions of something gelatinous and heavy, set with plates of metal bound with rings. No eyes - only mouths and grasping limbs.

If distracted from her work, Efa will apologise before insisting that she is left alone. The statue in the corner is a Living Statue she discovered in the fen. It demands she makes another that it may perceive itself. It will kill any who try to take Efa from it.

If left, the statue kills Efa anyway, hating its own form and hating her more for revealing it. It will destroy Llanisien before casting itself into the ocean, leaving only pulverised bone.

17.14 Llanisien

Wide farms, ploughed by oxen, heads nodding with the rhythm of the earth. Llanisien was spared the worst of the Norsefolk, and has gone from strength to strength since - growing to 82 souls, their farmland growing as wealth moves downriver to Jork. Most take pains to learn the language of their new masters.

Carys (2HD, Leather, Shield, Sword, Javelin) longs to kill a Norseman - she only waits for an excuse. The single Norse family in the village keep a wide berth. Most in the village would do anything to see her leave - she threatens their safety.

5 footmen, 10 skirmishers

18.14 Rhydaman

In the shadow of the city, 32 bitter villagers in their houses of fresh timber labour. Rhydaman was burnt for resistance during the conquest, and has never recovered. In another generation, it will be abandoned. Some of the eldest dream of inculcating resistance in the hearts of the youth, but such dreams are scorned. The only act of defiance carried out is refusing to learn Norse. One, Coel, carries a shield of oak - they were told it would hold off any blow, mortal or magic, by a father killed before their eyes.

A destitute group of families beg travellers to find their husbands - pitch-diggers, who went North-West. They have no bounty to give.

5 skirmishers.

21.14 Wrecked Karvi

The splintered remains of a Karvi litter the beach - the main hull protecting some of the contents. Searching the wreck reveals eight corpses, tangled in the ropes and drowned. All wear maille - three of these are salvageable if cleaned quickly. One, a huge woman, has a leather tube on a necklace - within is a map.

The map shows a forested island off the coast of Rhus - a path on the isle is marked, but no icon or text indicates where it leads. (Hex 28.16)

All of the corpses have serious wounds, half-healed before death.

09.15 Drych

Amongst the low shrubs and tangles of thorned plants, Drych lingers, seemingly in a state of torpor. Of the 39 residents, only 9 are human. The rest have negated themselves over long generations, leaving only Doppelgangers. Those in the know take the journey to hire these assassins and saboteurs. The 9 humans have no idea, the shifting faces of their fellow villagers giving an illusion of normalcy.

In the world, some 20 of their number are spread, coming home after their assignments. The wealth is buried - they only take it as a formality. 48912sp is buried beneath the village.

Stares linger on faces, and handshakes feel over-intimate. Visitors are scrutinised, dissected - memorised. If ever a need arose to borrow your face, it would be taken in an instant.

When the Roaming Court is here - faces blur, shift, change. Doubles are everywhere. Something is not right. Some of the Roaming Court is replaced.

2 footmen, 30 Doppelgangers.

12.15 Gargoyle Bridge

A wide, weathered stone bridge crosses the water. On both sides, squat gargoyles have been carved into the bridge itself, their mouths wide open. Looking into the mouth, it slopes towards an opening in the throat. If a coin is deposited in the mouth, it slides down and lands somewhere inside the gargoyle with a clink of metal on metal. Re-roll all encounters for the next d6 days, and take the highest result.

If one (or both) gargoyles are interfered with, reroll any encounter results of ‘No encounter’ for the next d6 weeks.

Each has 20 usable gold coins in their belly - the rest are corroded silver and bronze.

13.15 Druidic Runestone

Hidden amongst the vegetation, a mossclad runestone. It is inscribed in Ghom, and reads:

“ROADS CAST
AS A NET ACROSS
MOTHER SOIL
DEMANDS TEETH
TO CLEANSE”

Beneath this inscription, a carving. Many small, simple figures flee before a giant with eight waving tendrils emerging from its head.

14.15 Stashed Components

Near the river, a large tree with unseasonally coloured leaves. Hidden at its base, the following:

• A jar of dark, rich mud. Silt gathered from an ocean trench.
• Three lumps of charcoal. Sourced from an arson.
• Two malformed figures in iron, wrapped in ground Elder flowers.
• A pair of glass vials, both contain blood. The blood is from a pure-white and pure-black dog.

15.15 Man-eating Horse

Amidst the trees, an emaciated horse. One eye has been put out. Flies do not touch it. It moves as little as possible. In health, it was a giant.

It will scream if it hears people approaching, the noise snaking around the trees. It will first attempt to trample those approaching. Once someone is knocked down, it will dislocate its jaw like a snake and attempt to consume them - a Save is required to avoid this fate. Those swallowed may take no action, and take 1d6 damage a turn. Any damage dealt to the horse is also dealt to the contents of its swollen, distended stomach. It will flee with its prize, staggering and falling, legs crooked and bent.

HD 4 / AC as Leather / Damage 1d6

18.15 Jork / Eoforwic, capital of Hwicce

Atop the three hills gleam fresh-timber halls decked in gold, ripped from the brows and fingers of Brythonic kings to honour Norse invaders. The new rulers call the city Jork. Out of earshot, the people still call it Eoforwic. Beneath the hills, old stone buildings stand above Brythonic houses of earth and wood. The river snakes between the hills, and is nailed to the earth by a proliferation of bridges. 3587 tread the dirt paths of the city with two names.

Young King Ulfr (5HD, Full Length Maille, Shield, Axe, Sword, Throwing Axe) sits upon the throne his father, Thorkell, carved with blood and gold. Denied a kingship in Norse lands, usurped by a brother - Vagn - the progenitor of Hwicce sailed in search of a land to claim. Unhappy Brythons paid the price of brotherly betrayal. Ulfr desires expansion to cement his kingship, but is penned in - he is keen to hear rumours of weakness, summoning visitors to his court for questioning. They are plied with mead and meat until refusing some service would be an insult.

Any who could kill Thrasir would be paid 6000sp in gems and coin - on the condition battle is conducted away from the city, and no mention of the bounty is made. His monthly visits drain the courts of entertainment. Drunken men loudly boast of their intentions to collect, and feign ignorance in the morning.

Archbishop Bjorn has only a weak grip on his flock and knows it. The Norsefolk are disloyal - many are baptised, but still thank the old gods for their success in battle. They see no reason not to hedge their bets, and let different gods retain their own domains. Bjorn encourages intermarriage with Brythonic families, who are far more Christianised. Some of the more fervent Norse chafe, pressuring Ulfr to take action. Ulfr waves off the concerns, and thanks the old gods that they are few in number.

The old Brythonic noble families - those who were spared the sword - make much of adopting Norse fashions, eager to adapt to the times. The population are those who did not flee to Ergyng - they mostly wish to be left alone. If an heir to Dyfid could be found (or manufactured), 800 would take up arms.

150 footmen, 350 armoured footmen, 100 skirmishers, 10 Karvi plus 8 fishing boats.

19.15 Sandclad Dead

On moonless nights, 80 swollen salt-corpses rise from the waves. Any upon the beach are bludgeoned senseless and dragged to the sea for drowning. All of the corpses shush their victims, repeating only a single word - “soon”.

Each wears scraps of ruined armour, and weapons rusted to clubs. Statistics as Zombies. They have no wealth and no leaders.

06.16 Gull Feast

Fat seagulls sit atop the cliffs, necks craning downwards. Their screams are constant. Amongst the jagged rocks, breaking the waves, a proliferation of bones, ruined fabrics and scattered, tarnished metals.

If the birds fall silent, a fresh corpse has been deposited for them. They grimly pick their way down the cliff-face, too bloated to fly, their donors already beneath the waves again.

07.16 Wryddymbre

Scant few trees cling to the soil around Wryddymbre - and those that do seem strained. The sheep chew at their exposed, anaemic roots. 57 dwell here, recently reduced. This loss hangs over them like a pall.

Seisyll (3HD, Shield, Javelin) greets any visitors, hopeful at first, scanning the faces for someone he recognises. Then his face hardens. In terse words, he explains a group of children have been missing a week. There is no reward for finding them - what could the people of Wryddymbre give? Those agreeing to help are given sheep-bone figurines of Saint Anthony, granting +2 Warding against Poison.

When the Roaming Court is here - things are sombre - the mandatory celebrations stilted.

15 skirmishers.

10.16 Faceless Tomb

Hidden in a fold between the hills, an unmarked tomb made of huge stone blocks. They show signs of being moved with tools. It takes a combined Strength of 40 to move. Within are 30 skeletons. Instead of faces, they have a plane of smooth, rounded bone.

Amongst the bone, various pieces of low-value jewellery in a variety of styles - worth 300sp.

11.16 Ogre Mound

Rivalling the height of the trees, an immense mound. It is made of everything - all manner of items, plants, animals, minerals - thrown into a stinking heap. A tunnel has been precariously scooped out - and leads to a central hollow chamber, the stench overpowering. This is where two Ogres lair. Currently, they only desire to possess one another - fingers in mouths, pressed together, heaving and pulling. If interrupted, they will kill intruders, add their possessions and corpses to the mound.

For each day spent sifting through their hoard, a Physique save is required to avoid contracting a serious corpse-illness. This deals 1d6 Constitution damage damage each day. A Physique save should be made each day - two consecutive successes indicating recovery. Once recovered, 1d4 Constitution returns a day. Reaching 0 Constitution indicates death.

Their combined hoard is considerable (Monstrous III):

• 800sp in Ergyng coins.
• A small bag of uncut precious stones - worth 250sp.
• Fools Cymbals. (&T)
• Hulghavar. (&T)
• 14 Leper Pearls. (&T)
• 4 draughts of Goldsong Elixir. (&T)

13.16 Tongueless Wolfkiller

By the river, a strange shape. A man, tongueless, sleeps sitting up, wearing the pelt of a wolf. Awoken, he seems excited. In hastily scrawled Brythonic, he offers instruction in ‘arts dire’ in return for safe conveyance to the South-East of Albann (16.20). Once there, he teaches the casting of Neutralise Poison, and the preparation for both the wand and fetish.

He then asks for aid in killing ‘the ancient wolf’ - offering further instruction in the Arts Dire. If he survives, he teaches the party Fear, and the preparation of the pelt required. He also gives them his old wolf-pelt before skinning the Primordial Wolf Mother.

2 HD, No Armour, Dagger. Has the components to cast Fear, has knowledge of Neutralise Poison, Slaying Spell & Sleep. Attacks against him are at -3 due to his supernatural speed.

14.16 Diserth

Diserth marks the end of kingdoms. Beyond it, the land rules itself - or so it is said. Rumours abound of the goings on within the lawless domains, and those from Diserth are distrusted as sorcerers, pagans and thieves. 311 inhabitants dwell within the arboreal gloom of Moerheb Weald. The structures are built low - unwilling to challenge the height of the trees. All the tongues of Albann are exchanged here bar Latin - there is no church here.

None openly claims a central authority, but Atiq (3HD, Leather, Shield, Crystal Dagger) acts in an equivalent role - those with concerns or issues come to his abode, bearing gifts of a mystical nature. It is known that he is a sorcerer, and stands in opposition to the Fallen Druids and their worship of Onthloug. Equally, he is happy to use the Christian fear of such a group to retain independence from Hwicce and Ergyng alike.

He is always watchful for adventurers - the balance of forces in Albann is something he would maintain. Such a balance requires active agents. Additionally, he pays 2000sp for the capture and delivery of any other sorcerers and wizards. In lieu of pay, he is willing either teach a single spell or gift one of his magic items. He shares his knowledge of Wards happily with those in his employ.

He has the knowledge of the following spells, and has the components for any marked with an *. Animate Dead, Bless*, Cloudkill, Comprehend Languages*, Cure Light Wounds*, Cure Serious Wounds*, Fireball, Haste*, Invisibility*, Protection from Missiles*.

He also knows how to protect against sorcery; the oil from a Dragon Arum flower, the stink of Hawthorn, a candle of Mullein and the brandishing of winged penis icons.

He personally commands 20 Norse and 20 West Pyorran warriors, and plays their martial pride off each other.

He has built a significant hoard (Magic User III):

• 400sp in Ergyng and Hwicce coins.
• 5 strings of 100 Cowry shells, worth 500sp
• 6 bales of ‘Silver’ Silk, worth 600sp
• A pristine manuscript details a hidden route in the West Pyorra mountains. It does not say where it leads. (Hex 13.31)
• Two draughts of Philtre of Expansion (&T)
• 2 Wisdom Teeth (&T)
• Nautilus-Helm (&T)
• Cracked Horn (&T)
• A single draught of the Blood of Command (Human) (&T)
• Crystal Dagger (&T)

A stone circle of the Druids is choked with creeping vegetation. None visit it.

40 armoured footmen, 10 footmen, 30 skirmishers.

17.16 Owrtyn

Within the lighter outskirts of Moerheb Weald, 73 dwell. The buildings are old - spared burnings and occupation. Swine run between them as they have done for centuries. No kings and no lords - the people are content. They are suspicious too - any who would interrupt this idyll are watched closely, messages passed to the Fallen Druids. There is no church here.

There is no authority within the village - if decisions need to be made, a Fallen Druid is asked when they travel through.

1d6/2 days after leaving the village, a band of 3d6 Fallen Druid Cultists begin to follow the party.

There is a 1-in-6 chance a Fallen Druid is present on any given visit.

15 footmen, 5 skirmishers

06.17 Statue Basement

Scant lines of stacked stone hint at walls, almost forming a maze. They surround a set of stairs, leading downwards. Besides the stairs, a pile of weatherworn planks. Chlorine-stink wafts upwards.

The stairs move down and turn sharply to the right, limiting the daylight below. Pillars of stone emerge from the black as they are illuminated, as well as statues - perfect statues of rodents. A cockatrice uses the pillars and statues for cover. It tries to touch torch-bearers first.

In the gloom are statues of the missing children of Wryddymbre.

Tucked in a corner, covered in dust - a pair of Dog Spirit Banks (&T) each worth 500sp.

07.17 Conar, Druidic Agent

Conar (2HD, Mail, Shield, Axe, Sling) rests in a small camp. He is Ruis and speaks passable Brythonic. He offers to lend his arm to the party for a half-share of any booty.

Though he will not tell it, he has been sent to find the Druids of Albann. Upon discovering their debased state, he will feel unable to return. Any work undertaken against them is done for free from this point forward.

He is Chulagh’s (11.18) brother - they are liable to kill one another.

11.17 A Witch

Where the trees grow thick a moss-heavy hovel sits. From the eaves hang all manner of dried animal components. Birds on nearby trees watch closely, leaving the anarchic sprawl of a garden unmolested.

This is the house of Enid (3HD, Shortsword). She is only the latest to dwell here - a long line of witches uninterrupted by new churches or invaders from the sea. All in Ergyng know how to find her, although such a journey is never made lightly.

Any work undertaken by a witch does not come free.

Enid seeks an apprentice - she feels her bones becoming long. She would see Atiq dead for his hunting of magic users. If either of these are done, she offers hospitality. If both are done, her loyalty would last as long as she drew breath. She would be willing to teach any spells and wards to such friends.

She has the knowledge of the following spells, and has the components for any marked with an *. Animal Growth*, Baleful Polymorph, Charm Monster, Charm Person*, Clairvoyance*, Confusion*, Cure Light Wounds*, Cure Critical Wounds, Detect Magic*, Fly*, Light, Sleep*.

She knows all the uses of plants for Warding, but guards this knowledge jealously.

Hidden in the hovel, the accrued ephemera of generations (Magic User II):

• 400sp in a mix of many different coins.
• 6 Doubleface Drachm.(&T)
• 1 Demonface Coin (&T). The obverse depicts a dessicated human face.
  • The demon within manifests as a shrivelled warrior of the invokers culture. Their weapons are all flowing silver and cold white fire. It wishes only to slay other supernatural beings. After the killing, demands 1 human sacrifice per HD the target had. This price must be paid within the hour, or the invoker is taken instead.
• 10 pouches of various spices, transported over many seas. Worth 400sp.
• 15 Silver Nails (&T)

12.17 Rhedynfre

Upon the river forks in the shallows of Moerheb Weald, Rhedynfre sits. 62 dwell in the simple houses of wood, the trees festooned with simple carved charms depicting arboreal predators. With each fish they take, they thank the river. Each deer felled is given a name.

Eight in the village keep themselves apart - houses of stone, laid long ago. Metal gates stand over fresh wooden doors, sap still bleeding from the planks. Once a month, they take food and are locked in.

They are the Werewolves of Rhedynfre. They are able to transform at will, but are compelled to feed by the moon. Internally, they debate if they should take action against Hwicce. Their sacrifices buy the safety of the village, and all are given respect. They are named Newyddilyn, Bwlch, Gruffudd, Saith, Reece, Cled, Caron, Dafydd, Gilvaethwy and Pedr. They despise the Fallen Druids.

The Roaming Court does not visit here - they err away from the forest.

10 skirmishers, 8 werewolves

15.17 Cenwy

On their eight birthday, the children of Cenwy are ritually drowned and saved by the Fallen Druids. None forget the lesson - life itself is given and taken by them alone. Some resistance is expected in the youths, but those who do not submit by their 18th summer are given to Fallen Druids as sacrifice. All aspire to be invited to the stone circle as warriors of the order. Many are called. None return. 52 denizens remain, all practised in combat. Once a week, representatives from the Circle arrive and collect food.

Outsiders are captured, although security is lax - one could walk into the village proper before being discovered. From the trees, the tongues of other intruders are hung. The acrid smoke of their fires burns the nostrils. There is a 2-in-6 chance of being seen first by a youth who is questioning this way of life - a positive reaction indicating they instead wish to escape with the party.

20 skirmishers, 20 footmen

17.17 Desecrated Monastery

Within the woods an L-shaped ruin which has not been allowed to fall. Stones, cracked, filled with roots and seeking tendrils - ivy choked. Beneath the heavy cloak of green a monastery stands, yellow and black flowers blooming on the roof and tower. Nailed to the front door is a skeleton, a sunflower blooming from the left eye-socket. Ivy tumbles out of its mouth.

Within, pollen swirls year round - motes clustered and visible to the naked eye. The coat of vegetation reduces light to a distant glow. Between mouldering heaps of debris, many somethings crawl - disembodied tongues, turned to leather over the years. If presented the opportunity, they will seek a new mouth, piling in one after the other. First, the jaw breaks - the tongue is the strongest muscle, pound for pound - and then the victim suffocates, the tongues crawling and seeking.
Those spending more than a minute inside must make a Physique save - the pollen is a soporific. Those failing stumble, crushed by the need to sleep. A fine cloth mask is enough to stop the pollen’s effect. Those succeeding are drowsy, but otherwise unaffected.

Stepping through the ruin, the devastation is total - the building should have collapsed. Huge amounts of damage to the walls is obvious. All furniture is ruined, and no religious icons are left unspoiled.

Around the bend of the structure, the devastation intensifies - huge gouges are carved out of the stone. Atop an altar, a body, naked, still robed in flesh - untouched by time. They have been covered in brands of the cross. A circlet of gold set with rubies rests upon their brow, carved in Ghom. It reads:

“THE HAND TURNS TO STRIKE ITSELF
IT CAN ONLY BE SAID WE HAVE WAITED
WHILST ALBANN IS CAST IN A NET OF ROADS
AND CROSSES. THE FIRST TAKEN, THE LAST
AND THE MARTYR OF ONTHLOUG HENCEFORTH.”

It is worth 3000sp. If removed, the eyes of the body open, as does the mouth - revealing eight tongues. Muscle and bone audibly warp, the figure tripling in size as it stands, the eight tongues hanging ever longer. The arms and legs elongate yet further as it runs upon all fours, a dire mimicry of a hound at hunt. Its left eye burns with a dire yellow light. It will pursue until all who have touched the crown are dead, then returning to the ruin. It will not leave Moerheb Weald in this hunt, but will patrol the forest thereafter.

HD 8* / AC as Maille/ Damage 1d6+1+Special
Any strike with a rolled result of 16+ indicates a successful grapple with a tongue. All strikes against entangled targets are automatically successful. A tongue takes 4 damage to sever - damage dealt to tongues does not count against the creature. Tongues regrow over days.
*Supernatural HP.

18.17 Vagn’s Raiders

Partially hidden on the beach, two Karvi. 36 Norsefolk, laden with maille, axes, swords and javelins, labour to construct a set of small wooden huts. They are led by Olaf (4HD, Maille, Two-Handed Axe), and have been dispatched by King Vagn to see what has become of Hwicce. Any who provide them information - or act as their spies - can expect to be rewarded in chunky gold rings. They are stamped with a profile image of Vagn, and have been brought here for this purpose alone. Alternatively, in exchange for 500sp worth of information, they will teach the Norse art of the Throwing Axe - launching it as such that it always bounces and attacks again.

Each day spent in their employ pays 10sp, but information must be found at least once a month.

• Revealing that Thorkell is dead, and King Ulfr now reigns - 50sp.
• Revealing that Bo still lives and serves - 100sp.
• Revealing that Hwicce has become Christianized - 100sp.
• Revealing that the Brythons are still resentful - 100sp.
• Revealing that Hwicce is in a stalemate in terms of expansion - 100sp.
• Revealing that Salt-Rimed Thomas forces them to pay ransom - 100sp.
• Revealing that there are religious tensions amongst the Norsefolk - 250sp.
• Revealing that Bo has not Christianized - 250sp.
• Convincing Salt-Rimed Thomas to attack Jork - 3000sp - such a reward requires a visit to King Vagn (35.07)
• Destroying Hwicce with the Green Slime in 15.12 - 4000sp - such a reward requires a visit to King Vagn (35.07), but will brand the party as near daemonic figures, so willing to destroy.

Lies will be paid, but when discovered mark the party as an enemy to any who would serve King Vagn. Additionally, knowledge that they worked with the raiders is deliberately spread - King Ulfr will too begin hunting the party.

04.18 Dirnbych

A thicket of woods marches to the edge of the cliffs. Amongst the trees, 76 dwell - the village of Dirnbych. All are accomplished climbers - the children amuse themselves by raiding the nests of sea-birds upon the cliffs. Only the youngest are permitted safety ropes. Their goats watch passively - they are known to kick strangers before running away as if wronged.

Kerwyn (3HD, Maille, greatsword) leads the village - once a guard in the Roaming Court, now retired. Life in Dirnbych is uninterrupted by the outside world, and he would keep it that way - all outsiders are sent to him. Not even the Roaming Court visits here.

At night, the story of the Dragon of Kindee is a favourite, the storyteller gesturing at the island off the coast.

8 footmen, 10 skirmishers.

09.18 Haunted Flint Mine

A wound in the side of a hill shows signs of foot traffic. Within, hand-dug tunnels, the floor covered in flakes of flint. Worn antlers, mostly buried, protrude from the soil. Tittering and yelps can be heard from the depths. 35 Kobolds dwell within. They stalk intruders in bands of 3d6, throwing knives of flint before fleeing into the dark, leading to ambushes of a further 3d6 Kobolds.

They are digging out their kin - each week after the first visit, 1d6 are dug out. If there are over 100, 2d6 are dug out a week. If there are over 200, they will dig deeper and unearth a Gothrog - the infection reaches bone.

The Gothrog, naming itself The Breaker of Crowns, will seek to establish itself a kingdom. If it fails to conquer Caernfon using the Kobolds, it will head for the Black Strath to dominate the Orcs of the mountains. The smoke and ash it gives off will allow the Orcs to operate during the day. The Breaker of Crowns cannot help but try and expand their reach endlessly. It wears a charm of golden arrowheads, and is able to cast Protection from Missiles once a day.

The Kobolds have gathered some pitiful wealth (Monstrous I):

• 40sp in dirty Ergyng coins
• 100sp in stolen food.

The Breaker of Crowns sits in a treasure-vault from Giantish times, laden with war-wealth (Monstrous V):

• 50 huge, golden coins, worked with human hands but sized for giants. Each worth 200sp.
• 8 Doubleface Drachm (&T)
• 2000sp in huge bolts of silk in many fantastic, shimmering colours - enough to outfit a court.
• 8 pouches of an unknown, extinct spice which causes euphoria if eaten or smoked. Worth 500sp each.
• 100 Throne Embers (&T)
• 7 suits of Thousand League Plate (&T)
• Ninorta (&T)
• 4 Bags of Hydra Teeth
• Dragon-Lung bellows
• Five draughts of Potion of Compression (&T)
• Three Proven Sons (&T)

11.18 St Glanyrafor’s Monastery

A small monastery, peering out from a defensive wall of wood. The 45 monks are armed, and skittish. They fear Moerheb Weald, and the Fallen Druids within. Much in the grounds is in a low state - their usual labours neglected for martial training. A Christian Ruis mercenary, Chulagh (3HD, Maille, Sword, Shield, Sling) leads them in these efforts. He is not confident in their success. He is Conar’s (07.17) brother - they are liable to kill one another.

The Abbot, Wyn, has seen things move in the trees at night. Fear paralyses his heart. His messages to the Roaming Court are laughed at as the paranoia of an old man. He eyes the gold of the monastery, and thinks about mercenaries. Whilst his petitioning continues, the Roaming Court does not visit here.

Some wealth remains (Temple II): - 300sp in Ergyng Coins - 1000sp in golden religious sacraments - 500sp in illuminated manuscripts - The Body of St Glanyrafor, skewered with a Brythonic spear. Worth 5000sp to rival monasteries and pagan warlords.

15 unarmoured footmen, 15 skirmishers

12.18 Fallen Druid Sentries

Olwyn, a Fallen Druid and her retinue of 28 maintain a fireless camp here, watching the border, ready to harass any intruders into the Moerheb Weald.

Olwyn seeks to elevate her position within the cult - she has carved away her cheeks so that her (weighted and elongated) tongue spills forth, tattooed to appear as a mass of smaller tongues. If a group presents themselves humbly, she ask them to aid her in attacking St Glanyrafor’s Monastery. She will pay them with an oak token of favour allowing movement within Moerheb Weald without attacks from Fallen Druid forces. If the group undertakes the assault single-handedly and succeeds, she will offer to teach a single spell.
She is inducted into the magic arts - those spells with a (number) indicate how many components she carries. Those without she has the ability to cast once a day. Bless (1), Colour Spray (1), Cure Light Wounds (2), Hold Person (1), Sleep.

Her retinue are unarmoured, painted with purple berry juice to simulate tendrils and tongues spilling from their mouths and their old scars. Each has a shield, a javelin and club. At night, 5 are on guard, rotating once. They are forbidden to speak with outsiders - those who present themselves peacefully are disarmed and presented to Olwyn. Others are clubbed into unconsciousness and captured as sacrifices.

The camp offers some wealth (Magic User I):

• 400sp in unmarked silver coins - for bribes
• 100sp of preserved vegetables (10 portions)
• 200sp of preserved meats (10 portions)
• A single unworked block of ivory, worth 200sp.
• 2 draughts of Potion of Expansion (&T)

13.18 Crone Pine

A single burnt pine sits alone amongst the broadleaf forest, the other vegetation seeming to recoil away from it. One touching the blackened trunk would feel the inner heat, reaching out towards them. If their hand is withdrawn, there is no further effect. If contact is maintained, the heat flows into them. This heat is a Subtle Spirit, granting the power to cast Cure Light Wounds once a day. However, it requires the caster kills an animal before it reaches maturity once a week. Failure to do so removes the ability to cast, and the caster permanently loses 1 Constitution per day this is not performed. If they reach 3 Constitution, the Subtle Spirit leaves.

This need is communicated in dream. The consequences are not.

14.18 Fallen Druidic Circle

The trees here are festooned with crucifixes, severed heads, tongues. Many of the trees show signs of dying - the leaves unseasonably rust-coloured. This creeping death intensifies closer to the stone circle, until the trees are entirely dead, and yet more laden with charms.

The stone circle sits on a hill, each stone crawling with pictographic representations of tongues, mouths, pregnant figures, vomiting figures and cannibalism. Sludge gatherers in the deepest places of these cuttings - the stones themselves poisoned. The altar is deeply stained, 4d12 wicker cages filled with sacrifices stacked adjacent.

There are only 40 Fallen Druids, and 2d12 of them are out on business at any given time. Each is dressed in decaying clothing and painted with devotional whorls. Many have weighted their tongues to stretch them. They are convincing speakers, words pouring out like honey and cream.

There are 60 warriors stationed here permanently, acting as witness to their rites. They fight naked, using shields and clubs, throwing javelins.

Those who are friendly are invited to witness a sacrifice to Onthloug, the tongue removed and the victim left to bleed out. Then, for such an honour, they are required to performance a service for the cult. They bid you take one of their order, and transport them to their old temple in the mountains in the Black Strath. The one transported will let a tongue of Onthloug enter their mouth there.

Aggressors are attacked and driven into the forest. The Fallen Druids will cast the following spells in order, supporting their warriors.

Round 1: Curse, Bless, Confusion
Round 2: Fireball, Fireball, Sleep
Round 3: Wall of Fire, Web
They then repeat this sequence.

If Combat goes badly: Fear, Fear, Haste.
If they detect a Magic-User: Hold Person

Assume they have d6 material components for each of these spells between them.

At night, 10 warriors are posted as lookouts. The Fallen Druids sleep beneath the altar, packed in tightly.

Beneath an obvious mound of soil, the treasure of their order (Temple III):

• 400 Victory Aureus (&T). The obverse depicts a figure with a laurel crown and Latin numbers reading “392”. The Reverse depicts a wolf biting the head of a seal.
• 98 doses of brewed mushrooms - potent psychedelics used in traditional Druid-cult ceremonies. Worth 3920sp.
• 9 baskets of Decorative Shells, shimmering in the light. Worth 1350sp in total.
• 40 Silver Ingots, stamped with an imperial eagle. Worth 2000sp in total.
• A Puddingstone (&T)
• A God Casket (&T)
• A Treeheart (&T)
• A Stolen Shroud (&T)
• A Screaming Head (&T)
• 3 draughts of Hero-Mead (&T)

17.18 Math

A hovel beside the river, heavy with moss and fungi. Within dwells Math - approaching his 80th year. He is deeply knowledgable of herbal remedies and cures - any poison native to Alban, Ruislip or the Mid-Isles can be cured here. Each such cure costs 200sp, and requires special preparation. He throws the money into the river at night - he needs little.

He knows all the herbal Wards, but does not share them for fear of upsetting Enid once again.

04.19 Weeping Demon

Atop the cliffs, a squat, rough-stone figure with a grinning face and a frog-belly watches the sun rise. The top of its head is concave, forming a bowl to collect rainwater. This water flows from its eyes, and falls down the cliff-face. This is a demon, petrified by deceit.

05.19 Caernfon

Soiled white stone makes up the walls and buildings of Caernfon - on a bright day, it almost gleams. As one gets closer, the grime of years and smoke and dwelling make themselves known. 2134 dwell here, and the marks of their occupation are many. Banners bearing the crest of Ergyng are common, as are soldiers - the latter bearing the seal of Ynyr rather than the kingdom.

Prince Ynyr (5HD, Full Length Maille, Two-Handed Sword) is illiterate and proud of it. His greatest aspiration is to be a war-marshal - the throne does not interest him. Once his father dies, he will insist a flowering domain such as Ergyng needs an educated ruler - his brother being perfect for the role. Ynyr is beloved by the people - especially those who would swing swords and hew flesh for him. He is surrounded by braggarts and mercenaries from abroad, each promising to teach their sophisticated way of the blade, bow or axe. Duels are common enough that a ring has been built to house them in, the feasting table destroyed one too many times.

The city itself is loud, filled with those eager to prove themselves. Stupendous quantities of drink are consumed - draining much of Ergyng and encouraging trade with the West Pyorrans, bringing their potent wine. Several of the hauscarls and aristocrats have taken spouses from Pyorra, and the smell of their cooking is not uncommon.

At night, this vitality drains away - a cloak of dark and silence presses upon the city. Once a week, those wearing silver brooches depicting a broken wheel creep forth. Beneath bridges, expensive shoes soak up river water - silver and gold is distributed. A victim is selected from amongst the unpopular of the city and vanished. A horse rides South-East, to 06.20. In the morning, petitions to find the missing are ignored.

When the Roaming Court is here - the city is alight with fires - festivals erupt in all districts. A night for all to remember. Ynyr tries to thread the needle between being disappointing and competent.

80 armoured footmen, 80 footmen, 50 skirmishers, 2 karvi-equivalent plus 3 fishing boats.

06.19 Llanelli

Where the river sits fat and wide and slow, an island forms in the centre, ringed round with wooden walls, overseen by a single spindly tower. Smoke rises for the village of Llanelli, the Watchdog of Caernfon. 37 dwell here - all experts in swimming and boating. Racks of fish dry in the heat, and the single hound of the village guards them carefully.

Mari (2HD, Shield, Javelin, Battle-axe) once killed a bull that had lost control in the market of Caernfon. Ever since, she has led the village. She is inexperienced, and does not want the mantle of leadership - mistakes are made often.

When the Roaming Court is here - a token effort is made - a single night. The island is not big enough to support the court.

8 skirmishers plus 3 fishing boats.

08.19 Burnt Hillfort

Ravens wheel and play above the fallen stone walls. The earthworks atop the hills form ridges and exaggerations - the ditches filled with bramble and thistle. Within, the grass is thicker and greener in irregular circles. Stunted trees grow, using the remaining walls as a windbreak. It is always unseasonably warm atop within the ruins - snow never settles, always melting within the hour. Those camping here do not roll encounters in the night.

09.19 Pyorran Wines

Beside a tree, a covered wagon, barely hidden by some hacked-down branches. A dead horse, crow-worn, lies nearby. Within, 100 bottles of Pyorran wine - worth 40sp each. The owner of the cart is Gavin (1HD, Knife), a merchant in Caernfon, although he has nothing to prove this ownership. He will dispatch 15 mounted mercenaries to recover his cargo if needs be. They will (4-in-6 per settlement) track thieves through settlements, questioning and bribing locals. The mercenaries will take the wine for themselves.

10.19 Fleeing Trees

The trees here lean away from the body of the forest, as if trying to escape. Their trunks run nearly perpendicular to the ground, the branches and leaves straining. All growth is in one direction - away.

11.19 Forgotten Dwelling

Hidden in the hills, a small hovel, the fire long dead - moss reclaims the walls. Within, in the dirt, are 10 sequential Doubleface Drachm (&T) - arranged into a tiny section of the greater map. Bones moulder besides this discovery. Nothing else remains.

12.19 Rotten Quiver

A body, pincushioned with 20 arrows, is propped up against a tree. A grand hunting horn (worth 300sp) is still worn on a strap. The tongue has been removed. The body has been gnawed by scavengers.

13.19 Captive Village

c.w. mind control magic.

A green mirror of Llanyndras forms in the Weald - the enraptured population of 38 train for war against the Fallen Druids. Three Dryads, hidden in the trees, oversee their preparation and despair - they have much to learn of war, and know it. Whilst their human-harvest is limited to the nearby villages, they will not learn what they need.

Outsiders are not attacked at first - those who seem capable, who would bring them a warrior to bind and learn from, could obtain their friendship. Those not agreeing to sell their fellow man to botanical bondage are themselves subject to such attempts at domination.

The population are mute except when singing the praises of the Dryads. They do not stop smiling.

38 footmen.

18.19 Brujwalhaz

Upon the coast, 59 Rhusfolk build a village, ignorant of their proximity to the Fallen Druids. They are exiles from Rhus, all outlawed by deed or relation. Their wall is not yet finished - if attacked, they take to their leaky boats, the only vessels spared exiles. They speak Rhus, and a little Norse.

Ouen (3HD, Leather, Bow, Axe) leads the band. His ears have been cut off to mark him as thief. He is fiercely protective of the settlement and the people - any who harm them are stalked relentlessly, and harassed by bowfire for weeks.

5 footmen, 3 skirmishers plus 5 boats.

05.20 Yrcoed

Yrcoed ebbs and flows with the tide - the many stilt-houses standing empty and naked as the water retreats, gangly birds without feather. As the water rolls in, they fill with fishermen from Caernfon, lit from within by fire and laughter. 20 dwell here throughout the weeks, mending the boats and advising the fishermen to stay close to the shore.

Boats built (or repaired) in Yrcoed add 1HD - such a service costs 500sp.

When the Roaming Court is here - aspiring warriors try to prove themselves with mock naval battles, feats of endurance and strength.

06.20 Open Barrow

Once a week, under cover of night, a horse rides up and deposits a bundled up victim. The rider collects a velvet bag, filled with grave-goods of ancient make, marked with symbols of resistance and flowing knotwork patterns. They ride away as chilling vapour pours from the open entrance to a barrow. Carried within the mist, the long dead queen of Albann stalks forth, red from the jaw down, draped in the raiment befitting a warrior queen killed. The fatal wound in her belly is still open - as she drains her victims, their blood flows anew, each meal another death. Once Boudicca, now the Vampire of Caernfon. She wears the Dominion Reap. (&T). With loyal servants and enough blood, she would dominate those who acquiesced to Latin rule all those centuries ago.

In the barrow, the grave-hoard of a final hope extinguished (Tomb IV):

• 900sp in bronze and silver coins stamped with a burning sword.
• 200 Silver Tetradrachm (&T)
• Two thick golden rings, depicting boars. Worth 200sp total.
• A pair of spearhead shaped earrings in pearl. Worth 400sp total.
• A golden greatsword with a blade of meteoric iron, set with blue quartz veins running in the blade. Worth 800sp.
• Friend-to-Murgo (&T)
• 5 draughts of Serpent Draught (&T)

08.20 Latin Tombstone

A stone pillar atop the highest hill for miles. Atop the pillar, a statue, heavily worn by the weather. Carved into the pillar, Latin text: “GARRIUS, SON OF MARIAN, OF THE PRINCIPILLA DISTRICT FROM ROME, FIRST CENTURION OF THE NINTH LEGION, 20 YEARS OLD. HE FELL IN THE CONQUEST OF ALBANN AFTER KILLING A BARBARIAN PRIEST.”

09.20 Kerwyn ’o Eyes

These hills are haunted by Kerwyn ’o Eyes, bedecked in stolen sight. An Ogre who desires eyes. If she sees eyes, she squats down low and stalks the head containing them. At night, the victim might awaken, a huge weight on their chest as large, clumsy fingers seek the soft wetness of eye-sockets.

Kerwyn only kills as a side-effect. If it was easier to extract eyes from the living, she would. She carries 400 eyeballs, kept fresh by unknown means.

12.20 Bait Twins

Just off the shore, a single boat bobs in the waves no matter the weather. Within the boat, young twins, each fishing in a different direction. The boat is always full of fish. They sell their hand-made bait, which never fails to secure a catch - 10sp per hookload. They do not allow themselves to be seen returning home. At night, they watch the sea for sign of their parents.

13.20 Llanyndras

Llanyndras is smelt before it is seen - gouts of smoke from the many fires. Encircled by a ring of flame, the final 16 inhabitants of Llanyndras try and hold the Dryads at bay. At night, the voices of their loved ones call to them, trying to coax them to join them in the Weald. They plug their ears.

Vaughn (2HD, Leather, Sling, Club) is increasingly hopeless. Bronwyn, his wife, was amongst the first to be beguiled. He is close to giving in.

14.20 Flowery Cage

The trees in this area have tongues nailed to them, all still wet and bloody.

Craggy walls form straight lines - stones laid by foreign hands. Ivy clambers half-way up before dying off, or its bravery falters. A crumbled fort peers over the walls - the outer gatehouse blocked by a bulge of earth crowned in bramble and nettle.

Climbing the 12’ outer wall, the courtyard is revealed - bare earth, hostile to vegetation. From the fallen keep, heavy growth spills from windows, forming a curtain of green studded with white and red flowers. Muffled sounds emerge from the structure - animals murmuring.

A single remaining passage allows entrance to the ruined interior, partially hidden by the drooping vegetation. From outside, the plants can be moved easily. From within, they are as immobile as iron. This is to keep the Chimera trapped within. It stalks intruders through the chaotic sprawl of ruined chambers. It does not aim to kill, only to maim - hoping that friends will come and rescue victims. As they move the vines, it charges, a bid for freedom.

If freed, it rampages across Moerheb Weald - particularly victimising the Fallen Druids. Atiq will put a bounty of 8000sp on the creature alive - half as much for a corpse.

Amongst the debris, a hoard scattered from centuries of rampage (Monstrous III):

• 6 Dog Spirit Banks (&T), the collars marked with Latin script reading “Prosperity, Wealth, Security” - each worth 500sp.
• 5 Twisted Javelinheads (&T)
• 10 surviving pornographic vases - worth 750sp total.
• 3 magic items
• 3 draughts of the Potion of Architecture Friendship (&T)
• A Silvered Skull (&T)
• A Bitter Builder (&T)

15.20 Eel-knots

Eels form knots in the river here, their slime coating the riverbanks. At the centre of the knot of eels, a Demonface Coin (&T). On the obverse, a protruding cephalopodic entity. Invoked, the demon manifests as a mass of rotting fish threaded through with hair-width razor-sharp tentacles. It can infest animals and see through their eyes. If coaxed, it may share what is has seen.

16.20 Ancient Wolf-Den

Throughout this hex are huge wolf-prints.

An outcropping of rock with a jagged opening sits before a clear pool, the water moving slightly. Tracks cluster and fall away - many wolves coming and going. More leave than enter. The smell of fur, death and moisture wafts from the cave.

This is the lair of a primordial wolf-mother - the progenitor of all the wolves of Albann.

The first story is that she was given as a gift to a king by the Druids. She bit off his head and eloped with the princes, raising their children as wolf-royalty, arrayed against the Druids - or so the story goes.

The second story is that a hunter, foreign to Albann, caught her. She offered him milk in exchange for her life - a trade he took, and drunk deeply. Since then, wolves have preyed upon men, their mother unable to give them milk - or so the story goes.

There is a 80% chance she is in her lair with 2d6 adult wolves and 4d12 wolf cubs - otherwise returning on a 4-in-6 per Turn. They can be heard 3 Turns away. The adult wolves investigate the lair before the rest enter, sniffing out intruders.

HD 7 / AC as Leather / Damage 1d6+2

17.20 Carngwent

22 souls dwell upon the beach in Carngwent - many have taken to sea in their hardy little boats. Some return, decades later. Those left behind - the very old and very young - await their return, leave the houses ready for them. Visitors are welcome to use the empty dwellings in the meantime, the elders speaking long of journeys to long distant shores, showing scars, tattoos, jewellery and weapons. None consider Albann a home - all the tongues of the northern lands are spoken here.

7 footmen plus 3 boats.

09.21 Watching Whales

Whales wait off the coast, almost as if watching the shore. If a vessel launches, all dive too deep for harpooning.

If one launched before dawn, they might swim up to the vessel and investigate, gently nudging the boat with their marine brows.

10.21 Ffordunum

A badly constructed, fresh palisade surrounds Ffordunum, the 44 residents working themselves around the clock. A band of Norse raiders have demanded protection money - far more than the village can afford. In 8 weeks time, they will descend to burn and pillage if not paid. The petitions of the village to Caernfon have fallen on deaf ears. They have resolved to die. They can only provide food and board for those willing to try and help.

There are 35 raiders, armoured in maille and bearing shields, swords, axes and javelins. They will arrive in a Snekkja. 30 of villagers are old enough to fight. They have spears for everyone, 8 bows, 12 wood-axes and 3 boats.

The court does not visit Ffordunum.

22 footmen*, 8 skirmishers.

*Unarmoured & Unwilling

16.21 Sea Binding

A Fallen Druid, Heledd, and her retinue of 10 warriors is camped here. They bear bows and clubs.

Heledd is trying to learn the name of the sea - she will never succeed in this. They attempt to capture weak groups and use them as sacrifices to tempt the ocean to reveal itself.

She is not yet inducted into the magical arts - too young, the elders say. This is her attempt to prove them wrong.