[Text entry for the County of Tynwael. Images are to provide additional atmosphere]

“There you find a land of rivers and streams, of forest and hill, and of endless marvels big and small.” -- Robert, sailor

At the Southern edge of the Demalion Kingdom, where harsh cold winters no longer plague the land with frozen lakes and frostbitten crops, there you will find Tynwael sprawling in the sun’s balmy embrace on a late summer day.

Already the distant threat of times less bountiful brews in mountain peaks cresting the country’s Northern border, but this does not yet burdon the minds of Tynwael’s people. Not as long as the waters of the Stehr exert their soothing touch to those who take a dip. Not as long as the late summer fair fills the streets of Marscheck with the scent of brushed leather and hammered iron, with broiled meat and colorful spices native to lands where the people bear little resemblance to those spending their coin today.

The capital of Marscheck is the heart of the country, a blossoming pearl of commerce and and craftsmanship, and the center of military power in the region. Many a traveller will tell you the walls around the city are white as marble, rising one hundred feet high, and yet still they pale in comparison to the castle of Verdacragg that overlooks the city. Perched high atop its crag, the river Stehr bending around its roots, the castle is a virtuous guardian holding vigil over the city. It is easy to impress a man if the largest structure he has seen is the sawmill half a mile from his village. In truth, the walls of Marscheck have lost much of their marble sheen. The white polished stone has fingers of green crawling over its surface, spreading like veins that pump the blood of Tynwael itself through the manmade structure. One thing that is less vulnerable to exaggeration is the castle itself. Under the right light, just at the verge of dawn, the count’s home lights up like a beacon when the first rays of the sun lick its white walls while the rest of Tynwael still slumbers under the tranquil blanket of night for a few moments longer.

Life in Tynwael does not limit itself to the confines of city walls. Where the small roads and alleys of the city disappear behind the browbeat stamp of a closing gate, Tynwael’s countryside comes to life. Orange, red, yellow and indigo are replaced by shades of green, blue and gold. Around the cities and towns, a ring of fields spreads down the rolling hills. Stalks of wheat and barley cover the ground with a gold-green carpet that dances gently with the wind.

Peasants toil away at their plots of land. Outside a small house made of clay, wood and covered with a straw roof, a woman douses clothes in a large trog. The wooden framework of the trog leaking water from all sides, and being held together by three rusted bands of soft iron. She wears a green dress with white shirt, and a colorful bracelet of painted pebbles and tufts of thinned wool. Behind her, two children too young to work the field smash together wooden sticks to imitate the troupe of men-at-arms they had seen pass just two days ago.

But just like the busy market streets of the towns, these golden fields, too, disappear when you walk further away from the beehives of menn. Large roads, some cobbled, most stamped dirt, will lead you to any of the blooming centers of Tynwael.

To the west the roads will bring you to the City of Elderburn, nestled in the mountains at the crown of the great Silkwater arm. Here vessels of commerce come and go, mostly trading the famous textiles woven in Elderburn.

To the South you will stumble on Minderhall sheltered between rocks and comforted by the soporific swirl of its great lakes. East there is the stronghold of Frostbyrne, guarding the mountain pass to the neighbouring country. And furthest west the town of Bathemorn emerges from the trees.

In between these, Tynwael houses a country where, as is menn’s nature, the natural world fights a slow losing battle against the hand of change. Just outside the capital itself, the Arcane forest still hides many mysteries. The trees there are so dense that light scantily makes it through the roof of leaves. According to the locals this is the place for terrible beasts and magical beings, but you will be hard pressed to find a reliable source. Amongst the lakes, there is Siren Grove. Here the roads are treacherous, and if you were to dwell from them, you might turn around only to find the road is no longer there, and a girl of unimaginable beauty sings you songs of a place you will never leave again. Not all is as mystical as these two locations. Most of the countryside exists of rolling hills, green forests and meandering streams that go from mountain to dirt. And through the beauty, the ugly face of hardship and war perches its head. Ruined houses, burned farms, and trampled crops. On an unlucky day, you may even find a stream flowing red, and you will know it is time to leave.

Note: The County of Tynwael is found here: Selene > Demalion Empire > East Valor > Tynwael.