Northwic

Northymbre, the northernmost kingdom in the Outer Realms, is a loose confederation of tribes ruled by warrior chieftains, or Eorles. King Aedelric is the nominal ruler, but the kingdom is large, its population is sparse and the roads are primitive at best, so his influence does not extend much beyond his seat of power in Lundenwic. Most of Northymbre’s population lives along the corridor of lakes and roads, known as the Kings’ Way, that connects Lundenwic to Aeschdun, the royal seat of Myrce. A smaller population lives along the length of the Arun River Valley, farming the valley soil and herding livestock in the uplands. West of the Arun River, the land becomes increasingly desolate. The scattered clans eke out a living herding and cutting peat, which serves as fuel in this treeless land.

Northwic is a trading hub at the mouth of the Arun River. It occupies the site of an old Illyrian fortification, built centuries ago to guard the northernmost reaches of the Empire. All that remain today are two stone curtain walls and three buildings. The remaining walls, which have expanded well beyond the bounds of the old outpost, are timber stockade. Earl Torsten’s keep, a timber motte and bailey fortification built on a low, man-made hill, dominates the northern part of town. The southern part of town, known as “Old Town” in local parlance, is dominated by The Wayward Cog, an inn that occupies the three remaining stories of a stone keep. The majority of buildings are one and two story wood structures with thatched roofs. The streets are narrow and muddy, and the air smells of peat smoke and manure.

All of the goods from the Arun Valley that go to market pass through Northwic on their way to Lundenwic, and many of the goods from the western highlands, which are transported overland by oxcart to coastal fishing villages to be loaded onto boats, also find their way to Northwic, so it has always been a bustling town. Lately, however atmosphere is livelier than ever, almost frenetic. The city is bustling with merchants, tradesmen and villagers who have travelled here to buy supplies for the impending winter. The river is crowded with anchored ships and fishing boats, and a small city of makeshift huts and tents has sprung up around the town walls. Each day, ships filled with sacks of grain, dried fruit and casks of wine and oil arrive from the south and depart stacked with bales of wool and casks of meat and fish. Laborers, fishermen, gamblers, con men and every manner of person have followed in the wake of this unprecedented economic boom.

This new excitement carries more than a hint of danger. Each day, fleets of fishing boats ply further and further north and west and some do not return. Those who do return talk of barren lands to the north and forested coastlines to the west, and a few tell stories of savage creatures and ancient ruins. It is rumored that one man, the last survivor of his party, returned with sacks of gold and gems and sundry other treasures. This is why you have traveled muddy, rutted roads to Aeschdun and booked passage among the cargo on this leaky cog bound for Northwic. Adventure awaits, if only you can survive the journey.