Founded by Demetri, a leader that left no children, the village is placed between a few small hills, it is certainly not a valley. Wooden houses, farming and logging, it is another boring place to pass through.
The most outstanding feature is hidden between two hills: a mineral spring possessing strong laxative effects. The village has luckily other springs for common use. This one is used mostly for practical jokes, and, as it is known and praised by doctors far and wide, it is also a source of small trade.
Strangers should beware what they drink here, some id...villager will sooner or later repeat the joke everybody knows for ages here. Go to Comment
A small, unremarkable village of average folk, the only thing of note is a trail of white stones nearby. Rumor says there is a wise man that can answer any question on its end. Most people that search for him fail, but some actually found him, and received answers. Some of the local drunkards theorize the sage is relocated farther each time he is found, but who knows.
On a further note, there are several daughters in the proper age, and few boys around... decent adventurers should beware of being drugged and married in a quick ceremony! Watch out, the sleepy Hunkertin can be your last station. Go to Comment
This place is called after a fortress that once stood on the 'mountain', actually just a hill a mile from here, it is deserted since it was burned in some war decades ago.
All village houses, and many less important structures are built of the same type of stone, the very stone taken from the ruin. If asked about it, the locals will spin terrible stories of the many fires that used to destroy their existence before, and that they had no choice. The statues in their village's center are quiet witnesses to their great need. Go to Comment
How this name came to be, nobody knows anymore. The villagers have decided to like it, and will defend their honor with fists, if necessary, against any who would denigrate it.
Few know, that in this region of potatoes and cabbage lives a famous person; a former madam of a bordello in the capitol city. She had to flee after a great scandal involving a rather prominent family, and now hides here. Perhaps she is to spend her last years here, or she waits until the situation improves. The people only know, that she has a mysterious past, but was born here. The little wealth she took with her, and the knowledge of politics has made her the uncontested leader, and she can manipulate anyone should the need arise. Go to Comment
Indeed, many roses, wild and cultivated alike adorn this place, sleepy and peaceful. What an observant mind may notice, is that all houses have more than one floor, even the houses of the poor. This was a necessity due the regular surges in the population of snakes; not especially dangerous, but in the numbers a definite risk. After one particular summer, when the invasion of snakes was followed by a swarm of rats, the people had enough.
All important goods are stockpiled on the second floor (but very tight basements are built as well). Only the summer is dangerous, a mating season of the snakes lasts a few weeks, which the people await in anxiety, always improving their houses against the threat, and then suffering through. Once it is over, a great celebration follows, meshing with the end of the harvest.
The settlement grew around a large inn, a favorite center of many a great hunt. The nobles were always eager to have fun on the side, and the locals here gladly supply whatever is necessary, enjoying a good living. Deep in the woods, they grow a few things for themselves, most of the food is from elsewhere; they do some fletching and create other hunting utensils.
The woods around are teeming with game, but poaching is strictly forbidden. It is a consensus that their main source of income shouldn't be endangered; plus, a few rangers are stationed here. Actually, not far from the village is a small 'farm', where wild animals are raised, to make sure there is something to hunt even for the more incompetent and lazy nobles. If they pay, they deserve it.
The locals tend to be very accommodating and merry around nobles, always ready for service. Others may learn to know them as dour, quiet folk, with disrespect for their likely customers, or anyone armed. A few men here were a part of a rebellion: it was suppressed, they just barely got alive. And rarely, a careless noble will get lost in the woods here, his body mauled by a wild animal. Accident. Go to Comment
The village/small town lies in the mountains. With long winters, agriculture is crucial. For important work - from plowing to harvest - even the small noble ruling it comes with his men to help. The locals have a deal with the rock trolls, to repair the only road through the mountains, once a year. In exchange they get livestock and other supplies, the caravans tend to leave a goat or other small animal at the start of their route. The trolls are obliged to not harm anyone, but it's better to be sure. Be aware: the road deteriorates through the year. It is safe after the repair, but that won't last long.
The name comes from the small exposure to sun the lowest parts of the village have. It is more than once in a year, the villagers complain anyway. Go to Comment
Up in the mountains, in a rather dry flat zone, this little village was founded around a single deep well (there are more wells now). Agriculture is limited, they make their living by gathering the semi-precious stones (and occasional precious stones) and other resources of this miserable place. The inhabitants are unremarkable, save for being hardy and having a nasty biting humor. But they do help those in need, it is a necessity here and a chance to apply some sarcasm.
The most important event of the year is the reopening of the pass under the flats after winter. Then, the caravans pass again through, not many, but enough to keep everyone entertained (and wary). Winter is just boring. Go to Comment
Haven - This isn't a village so much as it is a permanent encampment. It is located in the caverns and catacombs beneath the greater city. Haven is the seat of the Court of Thieves, and all thieves are welcome in Haven. Authorities are not. The entrance to Haven is a closely guarded secret. Go to Comment
Wet Drock is a small, mostly uninteresting village, lying on the banks of the River Thop. It is composed mostly of small, thatch and stick houses without windows. The people there are farmers or fishermen, and are very poor. All of the men go to the Market-Day in the nearby town of Opethion.
Wet Drock's name comes from Whej-Dawharoxash, a name which, in the tongue of the Urwhor, means "Seven Dwellings". A tribe of Urwhor dwelt here before the Men came, and to this day, some of the people have strangely reptilian features.
Across the river, in the marshy forest, there dwells Uxomwhak, the last of Urwhor in the region. Uxomwhak has found a strange artifact in the woods, a blackened skull that speaks to him, and he has taken this as his master. In return, it has sustained his lifespan far longer than an Urwhor's usual 60 years. Uxomwhak has done many deeds at the behest of the skull, including kidnapping a child from nearby Wet Drock. Go to Comment
Aadaabaanaabaanaa lies in the midst of the (insert name) Forest. It is secret and unknown to outsiders, except for one trader, who periodically enters to provide supplies and trade goods to the inhabitants.
The reason that Aadaabaanaabaanaa is secret is that all of its inhabitants are tiny pygmies. They have reddish-brown skin and no body hair. They all also have great magic power. Go to Comment
Pakasang is a small village of farmers in the hills beneath the volcanic Mt. Budang. It is surrounded by forests, which frequently encroach on it's rice paddies and maize fields, and there is only one road, which goes from Pakasang to the nearby garrison town of Ta'te.
Pakasang is completely unremarkable but for one thing- in the center of the village, there is a large pit. This pit seems to be bottomless. Nothing ever comes out, and if something drops in or enters, it/they never return. Illumination dropped into the pit falls into darkness, a very long way. The people of Pakasang say that the pit is an entrance to the Underworld. A former sage of the Brotherhood of Wisdoms who lives nearby says that it is merely an entrance to a very deep cave. Go to Comment
This small village huddles at the bottom of the sharp Harga Pass that runs through the Sun's Walk Mountains. The town itself has no name, as such, but everyone calls it and the region Harga Pass.
The village is unremarkable, in most respects, but heroes will find that he people tend to be very reserved and mistrustful, and suspect that outsiders are witches. In the past, they have had trouble with a witch who dwelt in a tower at the top of the Pass (she recently died), and have no desire to have such troubles again. Go to Comment
Buthet is a tiny village consisting of fourteen small huts clustered around a pond. It has six inhabitants (not enough to take up all the houses). They live in constant fear of a huge thing that comes and takes them in the night.
However, if any people in the nearby region are asked about the huge thing, they will be informed that Buthet is used as a disposal area for their mad-folk, and that the insane people are probably just wandering off. Go to Comment
Great Circle is a remote village in a vaguely defined corner of the borderlands. The village is mostly unremarkable- a circle of small, cord-walled huts surrounding a central green. The people are poor, and live on subsistence farming. Crops are grown by the whole village; no one villager has his own field. Great Circlers are not overly suspicious or rude; in fact, they are very glad to see new people, being as remote as they are.
Just on the outskirts of Great Circle is its namesake, however. Surrounded by the fields, there is a small hillock, and on top of this hillock there is a circle of gigantic stones, encircling the top of the hill like a wall. One can walk among the gaps of the stones to the center where there is a curiously-stained altar. The people of Great Circle regard the megaliths with a certain suspicion in that people have sometimes disappeared there, but they generally consider to be just an oddity that belongs to them. Go to Comment
Manzech is a small farming village, rather unremarkable. All the people in it are olive-skinned, straight-haired, and pinch-nosed, and all look vaguely related.
The village is a cluster of mud-and-cord huts around a central firepit and altar to Bungreb, the local earth goddess. The people of Manzech make sacrifices of young cattle and birds to Bungreb every fortnight, to maintain the fertility of the fields surrounding the village.
Manzech's people have an odd, highly nasal and whiny-sounding accent. It is otherwise unremarkable. Go to Comment
Pelder's Cove is actually a fairly good sized cove. The good sized village, which is nearly a town, supports a moderate fishing fleet. The people are fairly normal fisher folks. The only oddity about the town is the salt fishing fleet and those that ply the marshish delta that feeds into the cove. The hunting of game birds in these parts is quite well known. There are a few noble hunting lodges not too far from the village.
Long ago this was a smuggler's cove. They would ply the sea and then hid in their shallow draft boats amongst the reeds and mudflats. However, the smuggling was only so good and the fishing was better. The locals celebrate their "criminal"/ piratical heritage in a summer festival. Go to Comment
This village in eastern Ballia (province of Mysia) lies in the eaves of a pair of hills, where a stream trickles down out of the mountains. Along with a marshy pool next to the town, this stream makes it one of the wetter places in the very-dry countryside of Ballia, and it is a popular stop-over in the wanderings of the nomads of the region.
The village has a rather grandiose name for it's small size; "Cataramnon", in the Ballian dialect of Mysian, means "The Bull of the South". The village is named after the titanic cube of mud-brick which squats above it in the hills, erected during the conflicts with the Dragonfighters during those warlike folks' brief raiding period. Now abandoned and ungarissoned, the Bull, as the people of Cataramnon call the fortress, is slowly crumbling into ruin.
About half of the people of Cataramnon are descended from the old steward families of the Bull; the other half are nomadics or Red Mysians in equal proportion. Go to Comment
Pocna is a remote village composed of members of the Flinthill Clan which rules the Highlands.
It is a small cluster of leather-and-cord-walled permanent yurts with frames of tusks built around a central village hearth.
The Pocnans, like all of the Flinthill Clan, are beefy, with grey-brown skin and flat, monkey-like noses, giving them a vaguely apelike look (though this is not unusual for the Plains).
The only other interesting thing about Pocna is that its men carry on the unusual practice of marrying their daughters. Go to Comment
Creatures of nightmare, the thankfully rare Mesnoi have unique form and attributes. Only one Mesnoi at a time will ever be "encountered".
In appearance, a Mesnoi resembles a walnut-sized chunk of freshly-roasted red meat from some uncertain yet familiar, edible animal. The insidious creature camouflages itself quite appropriately whenever it can, by slowly making its way amidst feast tables and trays of roasted meats.
Once eaten by the unsuspecting, the Mesnoi sinks down to the stomach, reforming if chewed, and begins to lap up the gastric fluids, digestive juices, and bile that it craves, like a sponge.
The Mesnoi carrier will experience mild to severe stomach pains during this time.
After a few hours of this (this is the only time that the Mesnoi can be purged with magic, or other mundane means), the Mesnoi transforms into its true form inside its victim, that of a miniature, once more walnut-sized, pot-bellied, devil-horned, snake-tailed imp. This horrid little creature then begins to chew and eat its way out of the victim from the inside out with its tiny, razor-sharp teeth, like a rat forced to do so via torture.
The victim almost always dies a slow, agonizing death. That much is certain. The devilish imp then exits its victim and begins its seventy two hour existence of mischief and malevolence, until it once more turns back into a hunk of roasted meat with the movement capabilities of a snail.