The Wolfwood

There are many forests in Lescatie, but none that are denser or more wild than that dubbed the Wolfwood. Though local nobles, and even the royal household, lay claim to parts of it as their private hunting grounds, in truth, their authority hardly extends beyond a few select trails. Beyond those paths, the woods are so choked with trees and the routes between them so twisting that one can get lost for days, wandering aimlessly. That is why those traveling through the Wolfwood are warned to stick to the roads...and by all accounts, getting lost is one of the more pleasant fates that can befall travelers. If one must pass through the Wolfwood, they would be wise to make sure they leave it before nightfall. If you hear howling, you're already dead.

True to its name, the Wolfwood is home to many packs of wolves; it is a favored destination for wolf hunts, though even then, the beasts found on the hunting trails pale in comparison to those of the wild exterior. Every so often a hunting party will come across a wolf of unusual size - sometimes as a prized trophy of a valiant battle, but more commonly, as a story recounted in hushed whispers by those lucky enough to narrowly escape with their lives. Even those who succeed in such hunts may not be so fortunate. One story relates a lord who slew a dire wolf in the Wolfwood during a hunt and hung its head proudly above his hearth, only for him and his entourage to be dragged off by the rest of the wolf's vengeful pack as soon as they set foot in the woods again. Many stories agree that the wolves of the Wolfwood seem unusually cunning - and then there are the ones who swear they've seen one walk on its hind legs.

In truth, the depths of the Wolfwood are home to a cult of werewolves that have held court in the forest for generations. Every full moon, the cult gathers at their camp (hex 040.028) to mingle in one anothers' company and to hunt together. Many of them have lives in the villages beyond the wood, their neighbors and even their families unaware of their true nature. Others have so embraced the life of a wolf that they live in caves and under trees even by day. Many members come from the ranks of the disaffected - wanted outlaws, peasants in search of a more exciting life, young nobles escaping an arranged marriage. One way or another, they found themselves unwelcome and out of place in the company of their peers, but as wild beasts, they could all find a home in one another. Such cults are not uncommon in the Lunar Lands, and the Wolfwood boasts the largest of such groups in the northern City-States.

The leader of the Wolfwood cult is a huntswoman by the name of Primeria, who lives at the camp full-time, sleeping under a tent of deerhide. Born to an elven father and a human mother, she found herself scorned by elves and humans alike, and never felt welcome in either of their circles. She entered the employ of Patriarch Gascon III as an assassin, and managed to escape from the siege of the Holy City with her life when he was overthrown. In exile, she was drawn by the allure of lycanthropy and the power it would give her - and she sought out the previous leader of the cult, eventually coming to usurp him. Her approach to leadership is a laid-back one; she can provide advice to those afflicted with the condition on controlling the urges, whether they wish to join the cult or not, and she lets members of the cult live their own lives outside of their hunts. However, she will not hesitate to come to her packmates' defense if they are attacked. If one was to approach her with an open mind, she would even be willing to share the gift of lycanthropy to a trusted ally.

Wolves and werewolves are not the only dangers of the Wolfwood, of course, Local parlance refers to outlaws as wolfsheads (as they are protected by the law as much as a wolf is; in other words, not at all), and perhaps by fate, the forest has its fair share of bandits and brigands, taking advantage of its fearsome reputation to shield themselves from the law. Though there are plenty of gangs concerned only with robbing passing caravans or extorting travelers, other groups have other agendas.

One of those groups calls itself the Rightful Order. Formed from knights who remained loyal to Gascon and the old Patriarchate, it holds Wilmarina I as a false claimant to the title of Matriarch, and the rule of the Cult of Voltan as an illegitimate one. They escaped into the Wolfwood to avoid persecution following the revolution, and over time their ranks have grown, drawing recruits from bandits and disgruntled villagers. They have established a camp of their own (hex 046.037) for their members to train and rest. Though officially heretics and brigands, the Rightful Order conducts themselves as the paladins they believe themselves to be, following the code of chivalry and equipping themselves in knightly harness.

The Rightful Order is led by Sir Josquin, a high-ranking member of the Order of Lescatie prior to the fall of the Patriarch. For twenty years, he has been stockpiling arms and training his men in the hopes that he may live to see the "false Matriarch" expelled from Lescatie, and divine order restored by placing an experienced member of a monastic order at the head of the Cult. Though outmatched in military strength, he has faith that one day his men will be able to take up arms against the capital, and that if he truly has Voltan's favor he will be guided to victory. However, Josquin has grown old, and is now in no condition to fight, staying at the camp and passing orders to his lieutenants - younger men who do not remember the glory days of the Order. His greatest fear is that his successors will forget their heritage as noble knights and lose sight of their goals, becoming little more than highwaymen.