Runeland

The Grand Duchy of Runeland is a minor province of Vallonia which lies beneath the wealthier regions of Kessland and Kruppland and also borders the almost-as-dismal Karpathia. Originally a territory of Russka, Runeland was wrested from that kingdom during the Steppe War, and the Rrusskan fur trappers and miners who inhabited it were evicted. They were replaced by a fresh wave of Vallonian colonists, eager to mine out the Karpathian Mountains. They were greeted not with a land of opportunity, however, but one of misery and woe.

Today's Runeland is populated by only a handful of woodsmen, with only two cities, both of which are castles fortified against the horrors outside. It is ruled with an iron fist by Friedrich von Hochburg, an unstable and tyrannical lord, who squeezes every Krone he can from his people with crushing taxes. When the Autarch issues a mustering call, no one ever expects any troops to arrive under a Runeland banner, even though there are considerable forces stationed in the province. After all, they are all devoted to the safekeeping of the region's only citadels.

It was suspected that Russka, embittered by their defeat in the Steppe War, would mount another offensive to regain its lost lands- but this has never happened. This is likely because the Tsars had no more wish to control those godforsaken lands than their Vallonian counterparts. As such, other than internal strife, little actual war has come to the province.

Geography
Runeland is a medium-sized province in the southeastern corner of Vallonia, its borders with Kruppland, Karpathia, and Kessland barred by the Karpathian Mountains. The terse treaty which ended the Steppe War drew Runeland's borders, and they have not changed since. Runeland's most well-known characteristic is the fog in which it is constantly blanketed, along with the accompanying outpourings of endless rain. Runeland's soil is rocky and brittle; no rushing rivers split it open, making farming virtually impossible across the entire province, even though torrents of rain seem to be pouring down on the earth at all times. This has naturally dissuaded growth, and the few brave souls who remain in the Duchy must rely entirely on hunting to put food on their tables. Runeland's many pine forests, clinging to the bottom of the craggy mountains, are ideal for this, and many are able to eek out a living by trapping animals and selling meat and furs. This is dangerous work, however.

The forests are filled with foul beasts; ravenous wolves and bears, having acquired a taste for human flesh, and being abnormally large and vicious, will not hesitate in pouncing on lone huntsmen, and, most often, ripping him to shreds. This is but the first of the Runderlanders' many worries, however. The province is infamous for the packs of Fell Bats which roam its stormy skies, thrice as large as a man, with wickedly sharp talons and massive, flesh-tearing fangs, lusting for blood. They darken the sky in great hordes, working together to swoop down on their prey and carry them off to the dark peaks of the Karpathians, screaming and kicking, never to be heard from again.

As if these horrors weren't bad enough, Runelanders also live in fear of even fouler beasts which frequently invade from the Badlands. Marauding Orc bands and small groups of Trolls, Ogres, and even Giants occasionally rip through the province on their regular rounds of burning and pillaging. Even more horrendous creatures than those are not unheard of by the hapless inhabitants of Runeland, for the worst of the Badlands' monsters often seek refuge in the Karpathians.

In this godless land there are only two outcroppings worth the title of city: The mighty fortress of Zhufbar and Chillgrave Castle. Zhufbar was built high in the peaks of the Karpathians, a bulwark against the howling winds of destruction which rage outside of its walls. There, life can almost seem normal in Runeland. The streets and buildings are tidy and clean, the people respectable, if dreary and gruff. The only things that might betray the true nature of the outside world are the chain-mailed sentries standing atop Zhufbar's battlements, crossbows ready, scanning the skies for any sign of a Fell Bat.

Chillgrave Castle was built on a blood-soaked battleground of the Steppe War, and, aside from being a frontier fort intended to protect against Russkan incursions, was supposed to serve as a burial place for the many Vallonian warriors who fell in that conflict. The castle, much smaller than the citadel of Zhufbar, is home to just a few hundred people but a firm garrison- which is necessary to fend off the unsavory characters which often surface there. The burial grounds of thousands of soldiers, most entombed with their armor and weapons, is a tempting target for any necromancer, and many attempt to sneak into Chillgrave's cemeteries and use their esoteric magic to raise small armies of the dead. Luckily, most of these would-be-sorcerors are amateurs who are easily stopped by the seasoned watchmen who patrol the graveyards at all times.

Inhabitants
The original Runelanders were Russkans, although they were sparsely settled and almost no townships dotted the region. They have long since been evicted, The only people who can manage to survive all of this are plucky, grizzled Vallonians, most well worth their weight in gold. But that does not mean that all of them are hard-working, scrupulous individuals. To the contrary, the vast majority of Runeland's populace are the dregs of society: Runaway serfs, taking shelter in the only place where they know their masters will not follow; fugitives, on the run from the law; and even the servants of evil, eager to find a place remote and infested with evils in which to practice their dark sorcery and rituals.

The few small villages and hamlets which dot Runeland's landscape are nothing but a collection of squalid, rundown hovels, places where even the humblest beggar would not dwell in. Their inhabitants are just as filthy, and spend their days beating each other senseless over moldy heels of bread and rotten hunks of meat. The poor sanitation in these villages lead to sporadic outbreaks of deadly sickness, and in during what the locals call "Plague Seasons", dozens of unburied bodies pile up on the streets.

In addition to this, Runeland natives are known to be prone to horrific mutations, often deformities that would get one burned at the stake in Vallonia. Hunchbacks, men and women with six fingers on each hand or eleven toes, and even those with only one eye(cyclopes) are fairly common throughout the province. These malformed beings rarely show themselves, preferring to cower in their shacks any time a traveler braves the torrential rain and shrieking winds and ventures through their town.

Vallonian laws are virtually nonexistent in Runeland, at least outside of Zhufbar and Chillgrave Castle. One can get away with murder- quite easily, actually. Constables and other duly elected officials, where their offices exist, are nearly always corrupt and apathetic or unable to enforce the law with their limited resources. There is, however, a much more direct and effective form of law enforcement in vigilante justice. Many young, idealistic witch hunters, eager to prove themselves, take the harrowing pilgrimage through Runeland in an effort to bring order to these lawless wastes, to punish the local miscreants, and, above all, to root out mutants and tainted black sorcerers who have holed up in the province.