Nominally, the Lug Wasteland is within the domain of the City-State of Khromarium, and thus the latter includes within its limits the towns of Port Greely, Stonebrook, and Swampgate. This vast stretch of boggy wetlands and coastal marsh is a breeding ground for lumbering beasts, enormous insects, and gargantuan monsters; notwithstanding, doughty men harvest peat, hunt big game, and prospect for resources here. In winter, mid-Twilight (Mammoth, Year 11) to mid-Renaissance (Fish, Year 2), this entire region freezes solid, and the spring years are remarkable for a species of fire beetles (oft called jigs) that cavort about the bogs, scores upon scores emitting their fulvous phosphorescence, as the standing males “jig” on their hind legs in most ostentatious displays. Perhaps the most treacherous region of the Lug Wasteland is its expanse of bubbling tar pits where dwell unspeakable horrors, formless abominations that feed on the flesh of men. Abandoned shrines of Xathoqqua lie here, tangled and overgrown, and haunted by all accounts. Also in the tar pit regions are some hot springs; certain shamans and druids claim these pools possess supernatural restorative and rejuvenescent properties.
This fishing village of some 1,200 or more inhabitants has in recent years withdrawn from trade with other folk. The people of Port Greely are believed to engage in clandestine practices hidden from the eyes of outsiders. Too, they have become increasingly nocturnal; by day the town may seem abandoned save for the occasional appearance of a local. Before the strange times commenced, Port Greely was renowned for its fishing industry, primarily derived from shellfish gathered at Greely Shoals, a small cluster of islets to the south. Whilst the village once boasted several taverns and at least two popular inns, these are presently believed to be closed to outsiders. In the last century, an uncanny trend began to manifest, which may or may not have contributed to Port Greely’s utter isolationism: The people exhibit strange and disconcerting abnormalities. Their heads have taken to an odd shape, their necks thick and folded, their eyes bulging. With each passing generation, these malformations appear more pronounced. Ugliness alone, however, is not cause for isolationism; sages posit that something more sinister is at work in Port Greely.
This town is located at the foot of a seaside castle that stands on a high bluff above the open sea. Stonebrook is the hereditary holding of a line of dukes and duchesses, also including lands radiating 20 miles from the town and castle. Traditionally the Dukes and Duchesses of Stonebrook are accorded all the rights and privileges of Khromarium’s ruling oligarchy, but not official seats. Stonebrook houses nearly 2,000 individuals, though its numbers have slowly decreased in recent years owing to a series of untoward events surrounding the Duke’s lineage. The architecture of the castle, its catapults and ballistæ, and the sheer height of the cliffs afford Stonebrook nigh impregnable defence from attack. Furthermore, the town is walled to defend itself from landward incursion.
Ostensibly this township of some 1,000 inhabitants is under the protection of the City-State of Khromarium. Here dwell farmers, loggers, hunters, herders, miners, and peat cutters. The town is high walled, and rangers patrol the hostile borderland, holding the frontier from savage tribes of Kimmeri-Kelts who have abused these good, simple peat farmers for reasons absurd.
Lairing within the subsurface of these volcanic islands is the largest-known concentrated population of minotaurs. In seaside caves they maintain appropriated vessels: galleys from Khromarium, Viking longships, and Amazon carracks. The minotaurs of Minotaurios are the hereditary enemies of mankind hunted to nigh extinction ages ago, but they proved immune to the horrors of the Green Death; hence whilst man floundered, the minotaurs flourished. These monsters are not without culture; indeed, they are renowned for crafting some of the finest earthenware in the realm and elaborate suits of armour, too. Despite their notoriety as merciless slavers and eaters of human flesh, the minotaurs of Minotaurios will engage in trade with men when it suits them.
In ages past this tiny island was about ten times its present size. When the Hyperborean sorcerer kings and witch-queens were at the height of their power (before the coming of the Ashen Worm), Mu Minor was settled by men from the mystical land of Mu. The men of Mu paid tribute to Khromarium and sought the incalculable wisdom of the Hyperborean sages. However, shortly before the whole of the realm was mantled in ice, a volcanic eruption destroyed most of Mu Minor. Survivors were few. Presently a small village of descendants endures, a small, ebony-skinned people with broad noses, slanting eyes, and straight black hair. The men and women of Mu Minor garb themselves similarly, in long, dun-coloured smocks, and both sexes crop their hair identically. They are a reclusive people who speak a secret tongue (Muat, a language of 814 words) and abide strange customs. They do not favour foreign visitations, and they do not speak the Common tongue of man. Regardless, the island is difficult to locate, for the blasting winds of the River Okeanos carry vessels far off course.
These two islands are inhabited by cave-man tribes, whose subterranean lairs are held to be unassailable. Their numbers are unknown, though their population seems to swell and recede in cycles that mirror the 13-year calendar; during the time of perpetual darkness they appear to thrive, emerging from the subsurface to bay at the stars and (sometimes) wage bloody wars against one another (Narath versus Tarath). The savages of Narath and Tarath are regarded as servants of Yug and Azathoth, and their sorcery wielding shamans are esteemed formidable opponents.
This gynarchic nation was founded by lost Amazons from Old Earth’s Caucasia. In Hyperborea they arrived at a wild coniferous coast (possibly Dagon Bay or Black Forest Inlet). Here the displaced Amazons built a trio of warships and set out to find home. On the icy Hyperborean Sea they were assailed by leviathans, and by land they were greeted by the brightly feathered arrows of warlike savages (possibly the Tlingit of the Savage Boreal Coast). For a year they sailed, until at length they sought the fabled Rim of the World. When doom seemed certain, they chanced upon the lush islands they would settle and come to call New Amazonia. The Amazons had established a new home, but they needed mates, so they raided Hyperborean mainland settlements for men deemed proper breeding stock. They developed a culture predicated on the tenets of Law, and at length their kingdom spread to the Floating Island of Paradoxon, where spectacular sorcery-sciences were developed (or, as some men of learning would suggest, discovered). Over time clandestine factions formed, Amazon cults that refused to comport themselves to the rigidity of Amazon society. Furthermore, the Green Death did not spare the Amazons despite their remoteness; pockets of survivors endured, but by and large their society was decimated, and for many Amazons, the precepts of the founding mothers were lost to a bygone age. Presently the rulers of New Amazonia vigorously endeavour to reform their kingdom of old, but much remains to overcome. Their population is a fraction of its former self, and the Amazons who have re established the Floating Island of Paradoxon refuse to acknowledge the authority of the Amazon Queen. In New Amazonia, a reverse form of gender discrimination exists in which men are largely considered second class citizens, and many are treated as slaves (albeit privileged slaves). Amazon men accept this as natural; they seem to favour the Amazon gynarchy. New Amazonia boasts some unique trade goods: fruits, nuts, saps, gums, and exotic spices; too, their copper, iron, and gold mines are productive, and their woodlands contain a unique tree species whose fibres make for resilient ropes. Their most bitter enemies are the Ixians, whom they have detested from the times of Old Earth.
This is the capital city of New Amazonia, a society of Law ruled by an autocratic queen. Her 10,000 Amazons worship Artemis, whose shrines and fanes are found within the city and without; the Grand Temple of Artemis is most notable amongst these, built of marble, with fluted pillars that stand some 67 feet in height. Apollo is also acknowledged, but not in a positive light; indeed, he appears to be an object of ridicule in various plays, poems, and songs. Pandoros’ markets are rich of fruits, herbs, spices, and rare woods, and travellers come from far and wide to patronize these. The city boasts some of the finest ropewalks in the realm, cultivating the fibres of its unique indigenous trees. Pandoros is also renowned for its shipbuilding techniques, perhaps surpassed only by the Vikings of Erikssgard. Pandoros conducts vigorous trade with Gal, Khromarium, and Erikssgard, but less oft with Port Zangerios, as the Amazons take a dim view of the Zangeriosan lifestyle.