The Marches territories

The Marches is largely made up of fertile farmland.

Upwold, The Silver Chase

The quick growing silver birch woods on the northern borders of Upwold are the source of a deal of income. Charcoal-burners live there, turning wood into easily transportable fuel for smith and heath alike. The bark of those trees is used in the tanning industry, to cure the hides of the cattle that graze on the river pastures. It's one of the few areas where anything other than beer is drunk - a drink made of the sap of the bitch trees that warms their hearts in the cold winter nights but brings strange dreams. The people who live up here have closer links to the Navarri that many in the Marches, and more need for Beaters than most.

Through the dark heart of those woods are paths no Marcher treads. From these secret ways come the panted Feni - uncivillised raiders, thieves, and rustlers who raid and steal from isolated settlements. Further north, cousins to these forests decay into the marshes that form the southern border of Kallaveset in Wintermark.

Mitwold, Pride of the Marches

The largest settlement in the Marches is the market town of Meade in Mitwold. Crowded around the mouth of the eponymous river, this bustling hectic port is the main gateway for import and export of the Marches' many and plentiful foodstuffs and merchandise, by sea at least. Here trade and commerce flourish and wealthy merchants and exotic foreigners are commonplace.

Mitwold's substantial coast, populated by small fishing villages along the shore, gives way to fertile chalk-soiled downs further inland, with rich game-filled woodland and larger farms and market towns beyond. There's gold in the soil of the north-western portion of the nation; the gold of summer's harvest.

Bregasland, the Dour Fens

Sandwiched between the lost territory of The Mourn and the sea lies Bregasland, an area comprising partially of fenland leading to the coast. Home to “Bregas” (fenlanders), this is a place of small islands of abundantly fertile soil, surrounded by seemingly endless marshes where eels are caught. There are several households here made up entirely of merrow, and several settlements populated by people who have been shunned but cannot bring themselves to leave the Marches.

Bregasland is home to partially sunken ruins, including several stone circles that pre-date Marcher possession of the land. It is also home to dangerous man-eating lizards, giant insects, flesh-eating plants, bottomless bogs and strange lights that seek to lure the incautious into deadly situations. Those who explore the depths of the marshes here sometimes disappear without trace ...

Mournwold, the Mourn (LOST)

This desolate land was known as the Mourn even before its final fall to the barbarian hordes. Originally the name referred to the sound of the wind in the trees and across the craggy hills. Now it seems a more fitting name for the loss which Marcher folk feels at the March's passing. The conquest of Mournwold is fresh in the hearts and memories of many Marchers. The barbarian forces that eventually defeated the Marchers amassed for months in the mountains beyond the borders. Despite the Imperial forces that tried to turn them back, the horde was so numerous and ferocious that Mournwold was lost in pitched battle.

As the troops withdrew heavy hearted from a battle they could clearly not win, the hordes did not pursue, they stayed in those hills and valleys, scurrying down the mines, slaughtering and devouring the cattle, defiling and tainting the holy places for their own dark ends. With the loss of the Mourn, the Marches has lost much of its mining.