Bleedsap Timberland

Bleedsap Timberland

Bleedsap Timberland is the working forest of the Western March. Fort-towns and pass roads need timber, pitch, and resin to keep walls, palisades, and well rigs intact. Rivers and lakes are gone, so cutters move by guarded well lines and ration yards set along cleared corridors. Each corridor is watched, taxed, and timed. A crew that misses the next ration hour can die before it finds another post. The March treats the timberland as both a supply zone and a containment problem.

Land and conditions

The canopy is tight. Light is thin at ground level. The undergrowth stays wet in patches where roots trap seep pockets fed by underground water, not by surface flow. Old riverbeds still cut through the woods as dry channels with cracked clay and dead reeds. The air smells sharp and sour, and flies gather on any open cut. Many trees carry old scars from past crackdowns: axe marks, soot rings, and blackened stumps in burned clearings. Old watchtowers stand on ridges and over straight lanes. Fort crews rebuild some with salvaged beams, but many collapse or burn again when crackdowns turn into fights.

Bleedsap is the forest’s defining hazard. Many trunks seep red resin when cut. It clots on bark and tools, burns skin, and turns small wounds into infected rot. Crews wrap forearms, necks, and hands and work slow to avoid slips. Resin is collected in sealed casks under quota because it fuels industry and sealing work, but it also ruins lives when handled wrong. A spilled cask can draw flies, beasts, and inspectors in the same hour.

Control and the timber economy

The Western March survives through forts, mines, and controlled timber. Fort captains guard the corridors. Timber barons hold charters to cut, haul, and store. Life priests run relief lines for injured cutters, but they also report illegal camps when it protects order. March Writs allow commanders to seize cut wood, food, and water during crisis. In practice, a writ is also a weapon in local feuds. Inspectors arrive with seal-stamps, witnesses, and armed escorts. They can impound casks, confiscate blades, and chain a crew to a post until a hearing.

Legal work happens in daylight near the cleared lines. Ration posts sit behind palisades with cask racks, tally boards, and locked wells. Illegal work happens deep in the trees at night. Outlaw crews cap stumps with ash or wax to hide fresh cuts and move “black casks” through smugglers who know patrol gaps. Some smugglers act as desperate relief. Most sell to whoever pays, including raiders and corrupt clerks. When crackdowns hit, barons blame smugglers, and smugglers blame the barons for quotas that cannot be met without breaking the law.

People who live and die here

Most cutters are March subjects, but crews are mixed. Exiled laborers, half-orc frontier hands, and displaced families take timber work because barons need bodies and do not ask questions. Camp life is strict. Water is rationed first, then food, then sleep. Loud tool work is avoided near dusk because it draws both beasts and inspectors. Fires are kept small and covered. Smoke is visible from watchtowers, and flame can wake older things in the wood. Resin handling is done with wrapped hands and sealed funnels. Open sap is punished because it draws insects and marks a camp for thieves.

Old history that still matters

Before the Plaguelands and the Drying, rivers guided travel, and many west roads were first built as river routes. Those lines now end at dry channels and cracked basins. The March rebuilt parts into patrol spines and supply lanes, using watchtowers that predate the Drying. Many are burned shells from earlier purges, and some are avoided because people say the dead still walk those steps at night.

Faith and rare magic

Temples of Life, Death, and Fate all maintain small presences at the ration yards. Life tends wounds and keeps work crews alive, but it also decides who receives clean bandage and who is turned away. Death keeps burial pits and burn lines, because dead bodies draw wolves and worse, and rot spreads fast in crowded camps. Fate certifies charters, seals, and oath witness marks, and it frames quota work as duty instead of theft. Magic remains rare, feared, and watched. A known caster can be seized for inspection, pressed into work under charter, or driven out as a risk to order.

Monsters and how they fit the timberland

The Bleedsap runs on hunger. Normal prey is scarce, so predators target camps and travelers because humans carry water, meat, and bandages. The monsters here do not feel random. They follow the same logic as the law: they go where resources concentrate.

Wolves and dire wolves

Wolves and dire wolves run the cleared lines. They learn ration bell sounds and patrol timing and test the edges of light rings at night. Dire wolves are fewer but worse. They can drag a man out of a camp circle and do not fear fire much when hunger is severe.

Grimstag-Giants

Grimstag-Giants prowl the forest edge where mounted patrols still try to hold roads. They charge through escorts, gore riders off mounts, and stomp the fallen. They take tack, spear heads, and water skins as trophies. Their attacks raise escort costs, which pushes more workers into illegal routes.

Dryads, awakened trees, and treants

Dryads, awakened trees, and treants form the forest’s judgment. Dryads are bound to one tree and the seep pockets that tree protects. In scarcity they trade safe paths and seep knowledge for blood, vows, and stolen tools. Awakened trees were forced into thought by rare magic or plague spill. Many remember axes and strike first, targeting cask racks and supply sheds because they learn what keeps humans alive. Treants act as ancient wardens that enforce cutting bans as harsh law. Some guard hidden wells and allow sharing only by strict oath, then punish any lie with force. If a camp burns near their ground, they respond with crushing force.

Green hags

Green hags thrive where law is weak and food is low. They enter camps and even ration lines in disguise, poison wells, ruin stores, and spread fights through planted blame. They keep victims alive for leverage and demand tribute in casks, children, or secrets. Some burned clearings are the aftershock of hag work that captains never understood.

Doppelshades

Doppelshades hunt where orders decide life and death. In Bleedsap that means patrol posts, registry sheds, and ration yards. They copy voices and issue urgent commands that sound lawful, turning guards on each other and pulling escorts away from a target. They kill after confusion is complete and leave the scene looking like a lawful mistake.

Mirebreathers

Mirebreathers use wet pockets and root-hollows as cover. They breathe wet fog that hides approach and carries fever into cuts and lungs. They are drawn to waste and death, so illegal camps and resin burns draw them in. One attack can spread sickness through a whole line because everyone already has open cuts from work.

Hydras

Hydras are rare, but the timberland can hide one. Deep seep basins under root mazes can stay wet for years. A hydra that settles there becomes a natural barrier and kills crews that try to fill casks nearby. The March responds by declaring whole lanes “dead,” then shifting quotas onto other corridors until those break too.

What the forest produces besides wood

Bleedsap timber becomes palisades, repair beams, and roof frames. Resin is distilled into pitch, lamp fuel, sealing wax, and burn stock for industry. Small amounts are used by heal houses as harsh cautery despite the infection risk. Charcoal yards sit on the edge of the timberland because supply is close, and they are guarded because losing winter stock can collapse a fort. Fear goods also move: dire wolf teeth, resin clots, and splinters chipped from awakened bark. Some are fraud. Some matter because they force careful habits and signal that the wearer has survived the deep wood.

Rumors people believe

• A baron’s family keeps a private seep well under a “dead” corridor.
• Dryads can smell forged seals and lead treants to illegal camps on purpose.
• The red resin is getting thicker because something is feeding under the roots.

Hidden truths that officials avoid

The March’s quotas are set above what legal corridors can meet in famine years. The state knows this. It keeps the black cask trade alive because it wants resin and timber without admitting how much it relies on criminals. At the same time, it uses crackdowns to remove rival crews and seize stock. The forest’s monsters benefit from the churn. Each purge leaves bodies, and bodies draw hungry things.