farms, fields, and estates of the White Counts, their threat of the giants once and for all.
for all. The foolish knight
enforcement is somewhat laxer beyond the city’s walls.
The knights accompany important caravans, especially
perfume shipments, along trade routes to Barsella or
Verrayne. They rarely patrol into the Wastes, however,
since the remaining armor-bonded knights can still rely
on the scrying wizards of Mageholme to teleport them
to any threat, including any who too closely approach the
slumbering Dread Walkers.
The years of reliance on magical aid has bred
complacency among the knights, making them softer
than their hardened kin who felled Zhergthoth with valor
and raw steel. Most knights are more learned in courtly
intrigue than martial matters. With the armor bonds
fading, the knights will be woefully unprepared for the
looming threats of the undead giants in the Haunted
Lands or the rumored dragons in the Ghostlight Forest.
This situation is a grave concern to the White Council, if
not yet to the duke himself.
Mageholme Citadel
The true power behind the White Knights resides in the
secluded tower of Mageholme. Within its walls, 250
wizards live shackled in service to the White Knights. The
majority of its residents are trained armor-bound mages,
their fealty pledged to a White Knight and their time spent
closely observing that knight. A few dozen elders serve as
mentors, advisers, and court mages to the White Council.
The remainder are apprentices culled from the least worthy
of Bemmea’s various schools. In Bourgund, however, they
are mages of service and worth. The skills learned within
Mageholme are carefully guarded state secrets.
High walls and magical wards protect the citadel against
mundane and magical intrusion. The highest spires
hold the scrying cells of the bonded mages on duty, each
comfortably appointed to the wizard’s taste. Most mages
learn both arcane and divine arts, and many achieve the
title of Mystic Theurge before retirement.
Aurgelmir’s Teeth
Scattered around the city are a dozen huge monoliths of
crimson stone. The biggest, known as the Centerstone,
stands in the Grand Plaza in front of the duke’s palace.
Unknown to the founders of Bourgund who built their
city around them, these stones are the sleeping forms
of primordial giants created by Aurgelmir, the first and
greatest giant, and imprisoned by the gods. The task of
ensuring these prisoners remain forever within their
stone cages rests with the Shrouds, a secret cult of the Red
Sisters of Marena, who perform a ritual every 10 years to
renew the wards that keep the giants contained.
A few years ago, Sir Markus Alavaine, youngest of the
White Knights’ elite Order of the Rose, nearly unleashed
disaster on the city. Sir Markus wanted to match the
prowess of the White Knights of old who slew the Dread
Walker Zhergthoth, and he convinced his superiors to
let him bring down the red monoliths and deal with the
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and his troops stopped the Shrouds from performing
their rituals at the monoliths, thus allowing several giants
to escape their prisons and rampage through the Grand
Plaza. Fortunately, a group of adventurers joined forces
with High Priestess Lethana and the other Shrouds. These
brave heroes held back the giants long enough for one of
the Red Sisters to renew the binding spell, cutting her own
throat so the power of her blood forced them back into
the monoliths. Sir Markus was demoted for exceeding
his authority following the incident, and he still broods
bitterly about his disgrace to this day.
The Ducal Perfumeries
The most exclusive district of Bourgund is the Bouquet
District—or Odor Alley, in the whispered humor of the
locals. Several streets host small incense shops and large
perfume emporiums alike. The White Knights guard this
precious resource closely, and the sensual fragrances
escaping onto the pristine streets contrast oddly with the
heavily armored knights.
Halflings are common in this district, desirable for their
sensitive noses, devotion, and skill. Shadow elves also
frequent the area, arranging shipments to the Courts and
spreading around large amounts of fey coin. Merchants
here also provide other accoutrements, including delicate
glass bottles, magical censers, and even more nefarious
items that can serve dual purposes, such as rings holding
small, secret compartments that work equally well for
perfume or poison.
Magocracy of Allain
In the aftermath of the Great Mage Wars, only the
Magocracy of Allain stood among the ashes. Allain’s vast
holdings are bordered to the south by gleaming Bourgund,
to the northeast by fey-plagued Tintager, to the west by
Maillon’s swamps, and finally crowned in the north by
the shining jewel of Bemmea. Through happenstance or
(more likely) treachery, Allain inherited the convergences
of ley lines that once crisscrossed the Wastes. The paths,
stretched and anchored by the isolated capital of Bemmea,
make these lands an over-boiling kettle of magical might
that travelers claim they can smell on the air like an
approaching storm. As a result, arcanists of all stripes fill
this land like rats in a granary.
Some come to Allain to learn from the most talented
arcane practitioners in Midgard. Others come to steal
power for themselves. Both kinds of travelers find ample
opportunities. In Maillon, masters of alchemy struggle in
their laboratories to invent new concoctions and unlock
the secrets of immortality. Tintager recruits war mages,
warlocks, and hellblood-tainted sorcerers to tame the fey
wilderness and hold its ancient rivals at bay. In the fertile
hinterlands, potent ley lines give rise to new mages, and
experienced masters search among nobles and rabble alike
for young apprentices to mold. In Bemmea, the great seat