The Wickerwild is a dense forest in the northwest interior of Oblivion Vale, close to the Dreadhorn Peaks. It is hard to cross. Sightlines are short, and routes change after storms and animal movement. Like the rest of the continent, it has no open water since the Drying. Streambeds are dry cuts in the soil. Life here depends on hidden wells, small seep pockets, and strict ration habits. Scarcity is normal, and violence follows resources.
The canopy blocks most light. Trunks grow close and lean inward. The undergrowth forms thorn walls and woven brush that breaks lines of sight. Fallen trunks create tangles that force detours. The ground is cracked and dry, but rot pockets and fungus mats sit in shaded bowls where damp air lingers. Resin smell is common. Dry streambeds and shallow pits break the ground and make movement slow.
Wells and seep pockets are the true wealth of the Wickerwild. A seep can fade for months, then return after frost nights. Wells are narrow shafts in protected hollows, often lined with stone and sealed when not in use. Most are guarded with traps, watch rings, and oath rules. Water theft is treated like murder, because a single stolen bucket can doom a crew. Water maps are kept as secrets, and many are lies meant to mislead rivals and protect claims.
Old paths exist, but they do not stay stable. Crews clear a lane, then thorns reclaim it. Locals use wicker marks to signal safe gaps, sink pits, ambush ground, and no-fire zones. These marks are branch bundles, bone charms, and cut twigs tied at eye level. Some marks are honest and maintained by edge communities. Others are placed by bandits, cults, and hags to steer people into dead ends or toward a hidden well they plan to take.
People enter for timber, resin, and rare herbs because these goods still move under ration law. Straight trunks become beams, palisades, and pump frames. Hard boughs become tool handles and spear shafts. Resin is boiled into pitch for sealing casks and patching roofs. It is packed into sealed pots and traded under guard. Charcoal is made in covered pits, because open smoke draws raids. Herbs and fungus are gathered for fever teas, wound packs, and preservative salts. Many crews return hungry or wounded, because work time is lost to detours, injuries, and stolen water.
Most entrants are short-term crews: cutters, charcoal burners, herbal pickers, and scavengers stripping old shrine metal. Bandits and stray warbands use the same routes, because the brush hides movement and bodies can be left without witnesses. In lean years, edge towns send claim gangs to seize stands and cache water for later seasons. Dwarven buyers sometimes meet crews at the margin, trading salt, tools, or coin for resin and hard wood. They avoid deep travel and demand proof that goods were not taken from dwarf-marked stands or caravan routes.
No single realm fully controls the Wickerwild. Dreadhorn dwarves watch the approaches because timber and medicinal plants matter to their holds, but they prefer edge trade under escort. Human patrols from nearby kingdoms sometimes push into outer bands to burn bandit dens and mark cutting quotas, but they cannot hold ground without stable water lines. The result is a patchwork of claimed cuts, hidden camps, and disputed wells that change hands with each famine cycle. When a new well is found, violence often starts before any court can record the claim.
The forest holds old stone shrines and newer brush shrines. Old sites are ring stones and low altar blocks from before the Drying, now cracked and dry. New sites are woven screens of branches that block sightlines and hide pits for offerings. Secret cults choose the Wickerwild because patrol reach is limited and smoke draws raids. Many cults focus on growth bargains and water claims, promising safety for tribute. Some groves show forbidden growth that kills crops and turns game bitter. Leaves stay dark out of season, and fungus blooms in tight rings. Game that feeds there often turns bitter and can make people sick. Locals mark these groves and do not camp near them. Wicker screens are rebuilt after storms, and bone charms are replaced when stolen. Most rites are quiet and use covered lamps, because smoke and chanting bring attacks.
Fires are avoided. Smoke can be seen from ridges and draws raids. Insects rise in thick clouds at night and make quiet movement hard. Unseen watchers in the canopy track sound and light. Many travelers move in silence, because shouting and iron clatter bring attention fast.
Monsters are part of the continent’s normal map, and the Wickerwild is shaped by them. These creatures do not only kill. They change how water is guarded, how trees are cut, and what people believe is allowed.
Dryads are tied to single living trees and the water hidden in their roots. They trade seep locations and safe passage for blood, vows, and stolen tools. They punish cutting near their bound tree and hate open fire near their grove. In scarcity years, their terms become harsher, and broken promises bring retaliation.
Some trees have been forced into thought by rare magic or spill effects. Many were made as sentries, then left without handlers. They remember axes and fire and strike first. They target tool wagons, cask stacks, and supply sheds because they learn what keeps humans alive. When one roams, crews often abandon the whole cut rather than lose days to injury and thirst.
Treants are ancient wardens that act like hard judges. They enforce cutting bans, punish poachers, and guard certain wells. Some allow sharing only under strict oaths. They also use bodies as warnings, leaving them in root pits or open clearings. Their presence keeps many crews in constant fear and short planning.
Green hags thrive where law is weak and food is low. In the Wickerwild, they use disguise to reach edge villages and cutter camps, then poison wells, ruin stores, and spread blame inside groups. They keep victims alive for leverage and force tribute through threats. They know hidden routes and use false wicker marks to steer patrols and rivals into bad ground.
A dragon known as the Wickerwild hunts forest borders and shrine roads. It collects charms and bone tokens as treasure and strips them from bodies. It uses brush cover to break sightlines and strikes fast, then vanishes into tight thickets. It has learned local ward signs and chooses routes that bypass common patrol posts. After attacks, twisted offerings sometimes appear near nests and travel lanes.
Edge settlements keep law because they must, but the forest limits enforcement. Fate judges handle disputes over timber claims, stolen casks, and broken oaths, since records and witness marks decide who eats under scarcity. Life priests run small heal rooms for cutters and refugees, but their supplies are thin and their triage is harsh. Death priests oversee burials and sometimes declare small quarantines after a sick return. Magic remains rare and watched across Oblivion Vale. In the Wickerwild, unlicensed spellwork is blamed for bad growth and awakened wood, so most people hide it or deny it.
The Wickerwild remains a contested forest where timber and resin draw desperate work, but hidden wells decide who survives. Cult screens and illicit shrines multiply because people want any claim to control. Bandits keep pressure on routes, and bodies are often left where they fall. The forest stays dangerous without any major change, because the continent is still dry, and hunger keeps pushing people back into the brush.