Dumbria

In my work, Dumbria is a two-parter.

In its first act, Dumbria appears as a slaver City State of Gaelwyn ran by a handful of wealthy corrupt families held together by religious fanaticism. That was 400 years prior to the current time wherein I base most of my stories.

Dumbria is the home of Bog the Confessor, a surprise villain in The Balland of Skyer Dannon; Bog the Confessor also makes a return appearance in The Murkwode Reaving as a wraith.

Dumbria got its wealth through slave labor, digging out the granite, limestone, and other materials used by all of the City States in Gaelwyn to construct their towers, castles, walls, and cities. Dumbrian ore, metals, and stone was the fabric from which Gaelwyn was built. They built their city right on top of a quarry that extends into the Wych, and they’d ship either upstream or downstream. Tons of money, lots of slave labor, lots of corruption.

However, somewhere between here and there, the slavers were overthrown and a more traditional form of governance was introduced, and, in its second act, Dumbria became a free City State.

I see this city as being stacked on top of each other in a used-up quarry, where most of the city exists in mineshafts and tunnels. It’s a port city, and conducts trade with other Gaelwyn City States, but it’s a shady bunch. Dumbria, to me, is a seat of villainy. Elements of its past still linger and are difficult to purge.

Auchenshuggle

Don’t you just like saying it? I do!

When I was trying to think of a name for a smaller hamlet that’d come under the sway of a wizard, this quasi-Germanic thing popped into my head. So I featured it in The Knave of Nodderton.

Auchenshuggle is the hamlet that Gammond Brandyford works to save against a wrathwizard incursion.

A protectorate of Nodderton, Auchenshuggle exists as a river trading town along the Wych with maybe 2,000 people. It’s a small town, a hamlet, ruled by the Rendaldo family for generations.

Mumling

When I was writing down Bartram’s backstory, I said that he was an officer in Mumling’s Army. That’s it - that’s how it was created.

At that time, I knew that Mumling was going to be a City State but I had no idea what the place would be out.

Over time, I’ve been able to add more depth to this city in various stories - The Grotesque of Silvanus and The Murkwode Reaving - as well as through fleshing out my own D&D campaign setting.

Mumling is a human City State of Gaelwyn with a population around 16,000. As Mumling isn’t along the Wych, I see them as agrarian farmers and deeply religious, connected to nature where Silvanus is the dominant deity. They’re very connected to nature and are also quite cognizant of man’s propensity towards greed, villainy, and corruption.

I don’t see the City States of Mumling or Nodderton as friends. I think they kind of resent each other. I may play that out in future work.

I see the place as kind of gloomy, dominated by elder oak trees, where humans have erected temples to Silvanus with spooky gothic architecture.

Mumling is also close to the Murkwode, a foresty-swampy flood plain that borders the Wych on the opposite side of some goblin-infested hills to Mumling’s north.

The Murkwode is a terrifying swampland, cursed, and a rumored den of thieves and pirates.

In a D&D campaign that I’m running, the player characters are exploring the Murkwode and trying to find caves once used by a prosperous thief to horde his wealth and evade authorities.

For those who care, the Mirkwood is a Sir Walter Scott and Tolkien location; the Murkwood is found in the Elder Scrolls. Not to be outdone, I wanted my own version so, murk, as in archaic Scottish, gloomy, and wode, an old English expression for wood, hence, Murkwode.

I’ve written about their prison system as being strict and punishing, yet offering a way out for young men through faith or military service. In true Protestant tradition, punishment is all about spending time to overcoming moral failures, and Mumling’s justice system offers it.

I haven’t written about it yet, but I picture Mumling’s military as small but extremely effective and well-trained.

I see their form of government as a kind of farmer’s grange or a counsel.

I see the people of Mumling as prosperous but humble, isolated, skeptical, superstitious, and religious.

Bartram serves Mumling - not unsurprising given its proximity to the Aevalorn Parishes and their attitudes towards nature.

Aevalorn Parishes

The Aevalorn Wilds are located to the south of the active map. The Wilds is a thick, lush rhododendron forest full of monsters. It is that fear of monsters that has kept the human City States of Gaelwyn at bay.

Halflings look at Aevalorn as the cradle of their civilization; all halflings of The Land trace their lineage to one of the Parishes (consolidated tribes) of the Precursors: the founding mothers and fathers of their various tribes.

Halflings are found in southern Gaelwyn in an area referred to as Aevalorn. To halflings, Aevalorn means quiet home. It is the place of their origin.

Geographic, political, and regional differences between halflings gave rise to Parishes. Aevalorn is home to seven Parishes dominated by a lush rhododendron forest. Aymes Parish lies in the mid-point of Aevalorn.

There are seven Parishes: Valley Parish, Aymes Parish, Greenfield Parish, Tatterfoot Parish, Wetfoot Parish, Applegrove Parish, and Duninish Parish.

There are numerous hamlets that I’ve identified in my work - Pondaroak, Amberglen, Mosshollow, and Ehrendvale.

In The Pig King, I eluded to another human region to the south of the Parishes named Shae Tahrane, an older D&D campaign setting that I created in the mid-2000’s and is currently unmapped.

Trelalee

Trelalee is a bedroom hamlet to Brigantia sporting maybe 6,000 people.

It’s located in a fen, a swamp, and was once the ancestral home of goblinkind. Man liked the area’s natural resources and eventually went to war with the goblins, ousting them from the territory. All of this came to a head in Crestfall: a goblinoid/human war that took place sixteen years prior to the current time where most of my stories take place.

Trelalee is a protectorate of Brigantia. That just means that Trelalee doesn’t have a standing military of its own - just local town guards - and relies on Brigantia for protection; kind of a big deal if irate goblinkind are always nipping at your heels. It’s a nice arrangement for Brigantia as Brigantia can exert political and commercial influence over Trelalee, but not everyone thinks that’s an ideal arrangement.

In Aevalorn Tales, there’s a scene in the 14th episode where I write about Isaiah, Gammond’s handler with the Thieves Guild, looking at a painting depicting Trelalee’s rescue at Crestfall by Brigantian forces. The subtext of the scene is that Isaiah, like most in Trelalee, resents being under Brigantia’s boot and that Brigantia wields far too much influence and meddles in their affairs. Foreshadowing here, but one day, that relationship is going to come to a head.

Trelalee is the home of Fenwater Abbey and the Sisters of Siena, the Watermaidens. It’s also home to the Iron Cages - a terrible prison.

I depict Trelalee as a rainy, wet, mosquito-infested, water-logged slough, and it really is, but its surrounding farmland and topsoil are extremely important to Brigantia; Trelalee is like Brigantia’s breadbasket. You have to feed 40,000 people somehow, and they depend on the farmers of Trelalee.

My first stories took place there with Bartram, Gammond, and Jore. I like the idea of this setting and I’ll frequently return to it when I want to write about thieves, goblins, the goblin wars, or Brigantia’s political strife.

Brigantia

When I think of Brigantia as a setting, I think it is the polar opposite of Nodderton.

In fact, if you looked at the map, the City State of Brigantia is located at the start of the Wych, near the glaciers of Stonereach, and not the end, like Nodderton. Visually, we start in Brigantia and end up in Nodderton. This is by design.

Brigantia is a monarchy and a matriarchal society, also in contrast to Nodderton’s king and patriarchy.

Nodderton’s all about taxation, crime, and punishment; Brigantia’s all about service and passing inherited wealth through women to create a thriving middle class that competes politically with family houses.

Where Nodderton is all about a traditional court ruled by a single king under a monotheistic structure, Brigantia is a more enlightened, polytheistic, faction-driven, cooperative structure.

Instead of looming dark castles, Brigantia is built partially by dwarves with artistically shaped stone featuring impossible sculptures and gardens. It’s more of a place of light than darkness.

Stories centering around Brigantia tend to offer contrast to traditional fantasy settings that are more like Nodderton. However, I find it requires a lot of explanation and it bogged me down in A Goblet of Bone. In my first draft of the first act, I had to spend so much time explaining it that I felt it slowed the entire story down. I can’t shorthand Brigantia as I can Nodderton, so it’s an ongoing challenge.

I refer to Brigantia as the Jewel of Gaelwyn and “the royal city” because it’s definitely a lofty and aspirational place. I picture it as 40,000 strong and one of the largest City States. It’s a river port city and extremely powerful, with an extensive military and a strong tradition of service. I imagine it as a gateway to the Dwarven Kingdoms of Stonereach, rich with art, culture, and trade. It’s a place of contrast where dysfunctional, selfish men are outcasts who live as paupers at the heels of powerful women, and where women run families and estates, not men.

But it’s also a place of contradiction. Brigantia is a place many would want to live in Gaelwyn, but it’s dominated by a familial class system, much to the exclusion of outsiders.

Jore Brix is a character from Britania.

I’ll let you in on a secret. The name “Brigantia” comes from my childhood. I used to play a video game called Ultima 4 where there the gameplay took place in a realm named Britannia.

Nodderton

Nodderton lies to the southwestern coast of Gaelwyn and is one of the larger City States in my writing.

It sits at the mouth of the Wych and borders the sea, so it’s a very strategic location and coveted by other City States.

When I imagine Nodderton, I think of a dense 20,000 population with lumbering tall castles, an extensive market, theater, and an expansive port and waterway.

Therefore I think it to be the seat of the Merchant Guild where there are extensive rules for commerce and taxation. I think of dungeons and a classic medieval prison system. Nodderton is ruled by a king. There’s an established monarchy, a court, and all of the palace intrigue that goes along with it. In my mind, Nodderton is a classic setting for fantasy stories.

I think there are a lot of different views of Nodderton though. In The Knave of Nodderton, I introduced a character named Aut Khronig, a corrupt intelligence minister; he wasn’t very nice. But I also introduced readers to a pleasant merchant named Faw Kag in the same story, as well as hinted at Nodderton’s theater culture. And I described the Athenaeum, a secret library, in Love’s Repast. I want to think that the place has a lot of depth; that there are many surprises under the hood.

It’s not all kings, taxes, courts, trade, and gloom, but its basic backdrop is well-suited for telling serialized fiction. I don’t have to describe it too much. It’s another shorthand for telling my stories.