THe North

Description text goes heGoldenfold, once a rival to Blackfield in agricultural dominance within the March, eventually carved its identity through the cultivation of luxury crops. The fertile lands surrounding the city shifted from producing staples to cultivating sought-after commodities like tea, spices, coffee, tobacco, and cotton. This transformation turned Goldenfold into a beacon of wealth and opulence, supported further by the bounty of its neighboring mountains, which, though sparse in iron, yielded precious gems, metals, and high-quality stone. These resources cemented Goldenfold’s role as a hub of affluence. The mountains also gained cultural significance, revered not only as a natural barrier against cursed creatures and harsh weather but also as a sanctuary during floods, wars, and other adversities. The city’s identity intertwined luxury, resilience, and resourcefulness.

Today, Goldenfold stands as the capital of the Imperial province of West March, its focus shifted to self-reliance under the Empire’s governance. Farming remains its primary industry, but the emphasis has returned to staples like wheat and edible grains to reduce dependency on imports from the Lift and the greater Empire. Land reforms under Imperial rule have restructured the social and agricultural order: vast plantations once owned by hereditary elites were redistributed to unlanded Rivlans, former legionaries, and Imperial citizens seeking new beginnings. This reform extended to abandoned outlying villages like Lowmeadow, revitalizing the region with smallholder farms and yeoman agriculture. Stockyards for beasts of burden have also expanded, evolving into large-scale ranches that sustain Goldenfold’s economic foundation. The city now balances its historical legacy of wealth with its modern role as a center of subsistence and agricultural resilience within the Empire.re

The marble towers of Whitehurst rise majestically above the Iron Pines, a testament to the city’s long-standing role as the military stronghold of the March. At the heart of Whitehurst stands the Stone Aegis, a towering keep of ivory-white marble, vigilant and unyielding. Located at the confluence of the Racain and Dakorus Rivers, the Keep serves as both the city’s heart and its greatest defense. From this vantage point, the city sprawls in three distinct districts, each divided by the rivers’ mighty flow. Unlike other holds, Whitehurst’s construction was driven by necessity, not grandeur, initially conceived as a fortress to shelter those fleeing the chaos of the Cataclysm. As a result, the city’s layout is labyrinthine, a maze of winding streets and alleys that can easily disorient the unprepared. Many of its buildings—homes, shops, and temples alike—were constructed with practicality in mind, emphasizing function over form, leading to a utilitarian but industrious urban landscape.

Whitehurst's districts are a bustling hub of craftsmanship, with blacksmiths, jewelers, masons, and other artisans filling the streets, their workshops a constant hum of activity. The tightly packed roads and narrow alleyways are alive with the sounds of trade, as shopkeepers offer their wares to the many travelers who pass through. The city’s massive walls, constructed of stone and towering pine, enclose the populace, offering both security and a stark reminder of the dangers that lurk in the Iron Pines beyond. These walls stand as the final line of defense, ensuring that the citizens of Whitehurst remain protected from the ever-present threats of the wilds while continuing to thrive within their fortress-like home.

What began as a humble outpost on the fringes of the Western Earldom gradually evolved into the bustling city of Westfork, a testament to the growth spurred by increasing commerce and communication during the era of Rival City States. Positioned strategically along key trade routes, the outpost’s location proved ideal as a rest stop and resupply point for travelers, making it an essential hub in the Western March. Over time, the city expanded, becoming a central point for merchants and traders. Westfork is encircled by strong, lacquered pine walls and the winding River Aulshain, a natural boundary that offers both protection and easy access to waterborne trade. Within its walls, cobblestone streets are lined with buildings of thatch and timber, creating a quaint yet thriving urban landscape. Despite its size, large swaths of undeveloped land remain, often used as temporary spaces for merchants and travelers who make their way through the city. These vacant lots would eventually serve as refuge for those displaced by the Ten Year War, reshaping the city’s demographics and character.

At the heart of Westfork’s commerce, a network of docks stretches out over the Aulshain River, where barges frequently dock to resupply before continuing their journey. This vital river trade ensures the city’s prosperity as goods flow through its waterways. Hidden in the back alleys of Westfork, however, lies a thriving Black Market, operating in the shadows of the city’s legitimate commerce. This clandestine market exists in a delicate balance with the rest of the city, much like a symbiotic relationship, providing illicit goods and services that cater to the city’s less lawful residents and visitors. The market’s presence adds an undercurrent of tension to Westfork’s otherwise bustling and industrious environment, reminding all that even in the heart of prosperity, shadows persist.

At the foot of the Iron Hills stands Hillshire, a city surrounded by a moat formed by a canal connecting the Rust and Blue rivers. This natural waterway encircles the outer walls, which are constructed from a sturdy blend of oak, stone, and iron. The moat flows into the city through smaller streams, which primarily serve irrigation needs, while larger channels facilitate transportation throughout the urban expanse. Hillshire is among the largest of the Holds, thanks to its unique design where much of its farmland lies within the city’s protective walls. This has resulted in a checkerboard-like layout, with agricultural plots, commerce, industry, and residential areas interspersed. Unlike other cities of the March, Hillshire lacks distinct districts, instead offering travelers a patchwork of rolling farmlands, cattle ranches, mine entrances, homesteads, and shops. Its proximity to the Vadurkin Clans has made relations with them a point of focus throughout its history. However, following the Vadurkin War, raids have become rare, fading into near-obscurity. Hillshire is also the only Hold known to have maintained diplomatic and trade relations with the Vadurkin of Divinfalls, marking it as a bridge between two distinct cultures.

In the aftermath of the events at Schlosswald Garrison in 1023, Hillshire now stands as a mere shadow of its former self. The city’s once-thriving population has disappeared, and much of its infrastructure has been reduced to ruin. However, despite the destruction, a handful of resilient souls have chosen to make Hillshire their new home, driven by the hope of rebuilding the city to its former glory. These settlers are determined to restore the city’s agricultural and industrial wealth, bringing back its former prominence in the March. While the future of Hillshire remains uncertain, the spirit of perseverance endures, and with each passing day, the city inches closer to reclaiming the legacy it once held.

Much of the old world was swept away by the Cataclysm, yet what remained has become the bedrock of the society we know today. The Great Temple of Fossegrim, nestled on the shores of Lake Lumin, stands as a beacon of resilience, seemingly untouched by the catastrophic event. Over the years, the settlement has expanded outward from the Temple Proper, gradually overtaking much of the surrounding shoreline. The lakeside, once a serene refuge, is now a bustling hub of life, with stilted houses rising from the water alongside fisheries, apothecaries, and river traders. Floating docks stretch across the lake, gently swaying with the current, forming the very backbone of the city’s infrastructure. These docks, supported by wooden pylons and ropes, connect various sectors of the city, allowing goods and people to flow between the land and water with ease.

As one moves further inland, the city’s architecture becomes more compact, with multi-storied houses and shops of pine and plaster lining the roads and walkways. These buildings surround the inner city wall, which serves as both a protective barrier and a symbol of the city’s expansion. The further one ventures from the lakefront, the more varied the architecture becomes. The influence of other regions can be seen in the use of white granite from Whitehurst and clay bricks from Sodmire, which lend a distinct flair to the buildings surrounding the Temple Proper. Yet, it is within the heart of the city that the true grandeur of Pondhollow reveals itself. The Colleges and Trade Schools that have emerged in recent centuries are the crown jewels of the city, their imposing structures towering above the surrounding buildings. These institutions, known for their scholarly pursuits and the exchange of knowledge, have transformed Pondhollow into a beacon of learning, attracting students and traders from all corners of the March.

At the confluence of the Foscadain and Aulshain Rivers lies the industrious city of Arborgate, renowned for its unique two-tiered layout. The city’s design is defined by its expansive wooden pathways, known as the Arbor Roads, which stretch above the original cobblestone streets of the ground level. These elevated walkways interconnect the upper tier of the city, creating a sprawling network that links the various districts to one another and to the lower city below through stairwells and pulleys. When viewed from the ground, the Arbor Roads give the city a striking, almost ethereal quality, casting the lower city in a perpetual state of dusk as the wooden structures loom overhead. Along the riverbanks, barges crowd the docks, carrying timber from the Iron Pines and ore from local mines to fuel the city’s vibrant industries.

Arborgate hums with the sound of craftsmanship, as the clink of hammers and the rhythmic workings of artisans echo through the streets. The lower city, shrouded in the twilight of the Arbor Roads, comes alive at night with the flickering light of torches, their flames dancing across the wooden walls and thatched rooftops of the city’s buildings. These structures, many of which are fused together or built atop one another, form an intricate web of interconnected dwellings and shops, further accentuating the city’s verticality. The upper tier, where the city’s wealthier and more influential citizens reside, towers over the bustling lower districts. Only a single northern-facing wall, reinforced by the natural defenses of the river confluence, stands as the city’s primary form of protection. This strategic location has provided Arborgate with centuries of security, allowing it to thrive as a vital hub of trade and industry within the March.

Nestled between Lake Deir and Lake Brath, the city of Eastlyn is a testament to the hardworking spirit of its people. In contrast to the luxurious pursuits of other Holds, the people of Eastlyn have long dedicated themselves to the trade of animal husbandry, raising herds and tending to the land rather than seeking indulgence in opulent goods. The city is enclosed by towering walls that stretch across the land, with harbors on either side of the city that take advantage of the lakes’ freshwater resources for irrigation and fish farming. The surrounding plains of the Eastern March are dotted with pastures and farmsteads, where the city’s cattle and livestock thrive under the watchful care of the city’s farmers and herders.

The architecture of Eastlyn is simple and practical, mirroring the values of its people. Buildings, constructed from readily available materials, are designed for function over form, with structures lining cobblestone roads and footpaths that weave through the city’s many districts. The utilitarian designs of these buildings provide the basic necessities for living, reflecting the city's industrious focus on trade and husbandry. Outside the city proper, smaller settlements and coastal villages stretch toward the Eastern Coast, where the dangers of Vadurkin raids are an ever-present threat. Despite these risks, the coastal fisheries remain a profitable enterprise, as brave souls continue to harvest the bounty of the seas while defending their livelihoods from raiding parties. Eastlyn’s people remain steadfast and resilient, bound by their shared commitment to their trade and the land that sustains them.

Alongside Pond Hollow and Whitehurst, Blackfield proudly claims the title of the oldest city in the Eastern March. Its rich history as a primary food provider to the region has anchored its status as a cornerstone of the Holds' economy and culture. Blackfield’s legacy began through shrewd dealings with settlements along the Sodden Paths, where it traded silt to enrich the fertile land. Over time, the once ordinary soil transformed into the renowned black earth that earned the city its name, making its fields some of the most productive in the March. Situated at the mouth of the Torthulain River, Blackfield’s location has always been strategic, offering a vital trade route to settlements along the Sodden Paths while also providing necessary irrigation for its fields. The city’s primary defense is built upon sturdy walls of lacquered pine, reinforced with stone and iron where needed, creating a stronghold for the industrious people within.

The famous Black Fields stretch endlessly from the base of the city walls, blanketing the landscape with crops and agricultural wealth. Scattered throughout this expanse are small farmsteads and hamlets, each made of simple wood and clay, home to the common folk who labor the fields to maintain the city’s prosperity. The long-standing trade with the Sodden Paths is evident in the construction of the city itself, with buildings made of timber from the surrounding forests and clay bricks commonly found in the Salt Marshes. The culture of Blackfield is deeply rooted in community and hard work, where families and farmhands work side by side to cultivate the land. While proud of their heritage and achievements, this prosperity has cultivated a sense of stubbornness, and the people of Blackfield are often wary of outsiders, guarding their close-knit society with a cautious and reserved demeanor.

Sodmire thrives at the intersection of two starkly contrasting environments: the brackish swamps fed by the ocean and the poisonous desert sands that encroach upon it. At the convergence of these harsh ecosystems lies the Sodden Paths, a network of treacherous yet navigable routes. On the Eastern shore of this inhospitable land sits the City of Sodmire, a place where survival and prosperity depend on resourcefulness, herbalism, and deep spiritual beliefs. The people of Sodmire have adapted to the dangers of the swamp's venomous creatures and the toxic desert sands with a unique blend of ingenuity, cunning, and a profound understanding of their environment. The city’s layout reflects its challenging surroundings, with stilted houses made of pine and clay, rising above the muck and silt of the marsh. Wooden and stone walkways thread through the city, connecting the various structures, providing safe passage for the inhabitants.

Sodmire is renowned for its apothecaries and herbalists, whose shops line the cobblestone streets of the city proper. These practitioners possess deep knowledge of the swamp’s fantastic flora, enabling them to craft powerful herbal medicines and advanced alchemical concoctions. The city’s residents have long since honed their skills in these arts, earning Sodmire a reputation as a hub of mystical healing and potent remedies. Trade routes, carefully maintained through perilous paths, connect the city to other settlements within the Salt Marshes and beyond, facilitating the exchange of goods, knowledge, and resources. Despite the dangerous environment, Sodmire has learned to live in harmony with nature, ensuring that their way of life remains sustainable. They hold a deep reverence for the mystical qualities of their surroundings, where the convergence of swamp and desert fosters a unique blend of culture, spirituality, and resourcefulness.