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The Viridale.
The sprawling woodland coats the South Eastern tip of Sundren, never an idyllic or bucolic place the events of recent years seem to have further darkened the land beneath its trees.
Known and feared for its monstrous inhabitants since the first probings of the valley by Mundus's expedition the dank woodland has always been a place for fear and worry for the valley’s general population.
For a long time the Legion maintained a ring of forts around the woodland, in the shadow of these military outposts a few people eked out a living within the trees, coppicers, smallholders, charcoal burners and all manner of laborers and miners who kept the forts supplied with timber, stone and supplies.
Deeper in the woods roamed Bullseye's Rangers, freemen who'd opted to live apart from society deep within the forest, working closely with those who styled themselves as natures guardians and protectors of the Viridale. Their relationship with those outside of their circle was often strained, their secretiveness and the ferocity with which they pursued those who slighted them were renowned, while they did do good works it was the wholesale massacres of innocent miners and woodsmen by these self-proclaimed ‘Forest Guardians’ that stuck strongest in the public’s imagination.
Looking back it’s easy to see where the rot set in. Xithis, that malignant servant of Talona, played a long game. While he may have been defeated atop the mountain it took longer for the great blight he had seeded within the Viridale to be beaten back, should we really be surprised that some spores lingered on, or that the Keeper who was connected to the woods by more than physicality should have been afflicted too?
The old grove is all but lost now, the subtle magic the confused and misled those not of the correct heart or faith is now used against all those that do not serve whatever malignant force that consumed the grove and destroyed Bullseye and his rangers.
The ring of forts that once kept the valley safe from the Viridale’s marauding inhabitants now lie empty, some slowly reclaimed by nature with others how housing the very creatures they sought to keep at bay. Only a tiny fraction of people who once worked the woodland remain, fewer still are those who deal with the fell creatures that inhabit the woods, but those who work the land or speak to the monsters will talk of terrible rumours, of wretched ghosts and rotten things hunting the gloom of the forests, feasting on the living before disappearing into once revered boughs.
But maybe all is not lost, a few rays of light pierce the gloom beneath those wretched bows, an elven shrine and the unveiling of the Tuatha all hint at a turning of the times.
The old times are done and gone, now the future beckons.
The sprawling woodland coats the South Eastern tip of Sundren, never an idyllic or bucolic place the events of recent years seem to have further darkened the land beneath its trees.
Known and feared for its monstrous inhabitants since the first probings of the valley by Mundus's expedition the dank woodland has always been a place for fear and worry for the valley’s general population.
For a long time the Legion maintained a ring of forts around the woodland, in the shadow of these military outposts a few people eked out a living within the trees, coppicers, smallholders, charcoal burners and all manner of laborers and miners who kept the forts supplied with timber, stone and supplies.
Deeper in the woods roamed Bullseye's Rangers, freemen who'd opted to live apart from society deep within the forest, working closely with those who styled themselves as natures guardians and protectors of the Viridale. Their relationship with those outside of their circle was often strained, their secretiveness and the ferocity with which they pursued those who slighted them were renowned, while they did do good works it was the wholesale massacres of innocent miners and woodsmen by these self-proclaimed ‘Forest Guardians’ that stuck strongest in the public’s imagination.
Looking back it’s easy to see where the rot set in. Xithis, that malignant servant of Talona, played a long game. While he may have been defeated atop the mountain it took longer for the great blight he had seeded within the Viridale to be beaten back, should we really be surprised that some spores lingered on, or that the Keeper who was connected to the woods by more than physicality should have been afflicted too?
The old grove is all but lost now, the subtle magic the confused and misled those not of the correct heart or faith is now used against all those that do not serve whatever malignant force that consumed the grove and destroyed Bullseye and his rangers.
The ring of forts that once kept the valley safe from the Viridale’s marauding inhabitants now lie empty, some slowly reclaimed by nature with others how housing the very creatures they sought to keep at bay. Only a tiny fraction of people who once worked the woodland remain, fewer still are those who deal with the fell creatures that inhabit the woods, but those who work the land or speak to the monsters will talk of terrible rumours, of wretched ghosts and rotten things hunting the gloom of the forests, feasting on the living before disappearing into once revered boughs.
But maybe all is not lost, a few rays of light pierce the gloom beneath those wretched bows, an elven shrine and the unveiling of the Tuatha all hint at a turning of the times.
The old times are done and gone, now the future beckons.