The Earldom of Aelfshaw, once a region of rare tranquillity amidst political turmoil, stands at a crossroads in its history. Having been a haven of peace for centuries, bordered by the enigmatic Dwarves of the north and the reclusive Elves of Edhel, the Earldom was known for its prosperity, harmony, and cultural richness. The influence of the Higher Races, Elves and Dwarves, was far stronger in Aelfshaw than in most regions, and the local population was diverse, often with mixed ancestry, a reflection of the longstanding relationships between the various peoples.
The late Earl Arnes Salkuras, a man of both human and alleged Fey heritage, ruled Aelfshaw for over sixty years. His long reign was marked by an era of calm and wealth. The Earl’s part-Elven blood was thought to have granted him unnatural longevity, a trait passed down through his family. Despite his personal strength and wisdom, Earl Arnes never married and had no natural heirs, instead adopting his lifelong companion, Sir Jocund of Joyvess (pictured), as his successor. Jocund, a knight renowned for his bravery and loyalty was a man of humble origins and few connections to the noble class. Though he commanded the Knights of the Rose, his lack of support from the local nobility and merchant class left him at a disadvantage when Earl Arnes passed away. The death of Earl Arnes sparked a bitter and bloody struggle for control of the Earldom. Sir Jocund, despite his strong ties with the military, failed to secure the Earldom's leadership, and the province splintered into various factions, each backed by different external powers. In a desperate attempt to maintain control, Jocund turned to the mysterious and dangerous ‘Other Place’, invoking forces far beyond his control. This rash Beckoning of Mav Id’Erian summoned armies of Elves and Dwarves into the conflict, further complicating an already volatile situation.
The war that followed was chaotic and destructive, with forces from both the Barony of Maelfasan and Everwatch intervening. A notable battle at Naugard saw the Dwarves capture and then be caught off-guard, losing the fortress to Maelfasan forces, while a force from Everwatch marched toward Aria, the capital of Aelfshaw. In the end, a diplomatic compromise was reached, with the Elves voluntarily withdrawing to the ‘Other Place’ and taking Sir Jocund with them. The Earldom was left in a fractured state, with various factions vying for control.
In the aftermath of the war, Argun Af Lavandal, a respected noble with strong ties to Everwatch, was chosen as the new Earl. Known for his military service and reputation as a fair leader, Argun brought stability to the region. He relinquished his prior oath to Lord Douglas of Stonehaven and was unanimously elected to rule. Now, two years later, Aelfshaw is a much quieter and more cohesive place. Earl Argun governs with a light hand, focusing on maintaining peace and prosperity while cracking down on the widespread corruption that had taken root during the civil unrest. His leadership is popular both with the common folk and the other nobles, though challenges remain.
Argun’s son, Fitzroy, now thirteen, is being groomed to one day inherit his father’s title. Argun’s wife, Salopy, has recently given birth to their daughter, a symbol of the family's new hope and future. While the region may seem calm under Earl Argun’s rule, it remains to be seen how the newly unified Earldom will fare in the long term. The ghosts of the past still haunt the land, and the influence of the Elves and Dwarves is never far from the horizon. Aelfshaw, once a beacon of peace in a tumultuous world, now faces an uncertain future. Will Earl Argun’s rule be the dawning of a new age of prosperity, or will the old factions rise again, dragging the province back into chaos? Only time will tell.
Settlements
Lilay
Small City: Alignment: TN, Population: 10,000, Mixed (85% human, 9% half-elven, 4% elven, 2% other.). Languages: Common & Elven, Religions: Berei & Zilchus, Authority figures: High Priest Florin Gripa of Zilchus (human, male, cleric)
The centre of the Earldom is the walled city of Lilay. It was the site of a Dwarven settlement that was levelled in the Wars of Liberation fought between Man and the Older Races centuries gone by. It was rebuilt in a brutal Kaegorian style and was not renowned for its beauty. Earl Arnes appointed his long time champion and companion Sir Jocund to civilise the city. He spent considerable sums improving the aesthetics of the settlement but with limited results. It is a prosperous agricultural centre but most of all it is a booming trade centre and market for Elven and Dwarven goods. It has a temple to Berei, the NG goddess of agriculture, family, and home, but most impressive is the imposing market-cathedral to Zilchus, the LN god of prestige, money & business. It suffered little in the civil war and life has continued, pretty much as usual.
Inns & hostels in Lilay
The Aelfshaw Arms stands proudly at the heart of the city, a large, welcoming inn that has earned a reputation for being both reliable and lively. Its warm, brick façade and sturdy wooden beams give the building a rustic charm, while its spacious interior caters to a wide variety of guests. The inn boasts thirty comfortable rooms, each equipped with just enough luxury to provide a good night’s rest without the frills of the extravagant places. The rooms are modest, but well-kept, with clean linens, sturdy furniture, and a hint of homey warmth. The large bar is the heart of the inn, where locals and travellers alike gather for a drink, to swap stories, and to enjoy each other's company. The bar is stocked with a decent variety of ales, spirits, and wines, offering something for every taste. A roaring fire in the hearth keeps the room warm during colder months, and a few high-backed chairs around it invite conversation or quiet contemplation.
In addition to its fine food and drink, The Aelfshaw Arms offers a gambling room for those feeling lucky. With a few tables set for cards, dice, and other games of chance, the room is a favourite for those who like to test their fortune. The clink of coins and the murmur of conversation are ever-present here, as both the regulars and newcomers engage in friendly wagers. Though the stakes aren't as high as those at more exclusive places, there’s always a sense of thrill in the air. The Aelfshaw Arms is a place for both travellers seeking a temporary stay and locals who feel at home here. It’s a hub of community, a place where deals are struck, friendships are forged, and good times are had. Its reputation for offering decent quality at a reasonable price ensures that it remains a popular choice among all who pass through the city.
Ma Bracknell’s Boarding House stands as a stern sentinel in the quiet town, its faded blue paint a reminder of its long-standing history. A practical building, modest in both size
and decoration, it offers nothing more than what is necessary. A stable sits to the side, where horses can be tended to, a dining area in the centre where guests are expected to keep their manners in check, and 20 rooms that are impeccably tidy, with nothing out of place.
Ma Bracknel, the proprietor, is known for her unwavering rules and expectations. "No funny business under this roof," she often says, her steely eyes and no-nonsense demeanour leaving little room for negotiation. Her guests know that any violation of her strict guidelines will result in immediate consequences; whether it's a long stare or, worse, a polite but firm request to leave. Though Ma Bracknell’s Boarding House is inexpensive, its reputation for discipline and order attracts only those who appreciate structure and perhaps those who need it most.
The Velvet Cape is an establishment of unparalleled luxury, where indulgence is the standard, and only those with the means to afford its opulence are allowed to enter its velvet-lined doors. The Inn's exterior is a stunning blend of rich crimson and deep gold, with large, ornate windows that reflect the grandeur of the world inside. Its name, "The Velvet Cape," comes from the plush, draping fabric that adorns the interior, wrapping the guests in comfort and extravagance at every turn. The main hall is lit by crystal chandeliers, their soft glow casting a warm, inviting light on the polished mahogany furniture. The fine selection of wines are offered, each poured with care and paired with dishes of the highest culinary quality, ensuring that every meal becomes an unforgettable experience.
The waiting ladies, all graceful, poised, and well-spoken, glide through the dining area with ease. They engage in conversation with the guests, subtly attending to their needs with the grace of well-trained professionals. Though the prices reflect its grandeur, for those who can afford it, The Velvet Cape offers a world of luxury that cannot be found elsewhere, a sanctuary of comfort, prestige, and sophistication.
The Scratin’ Beggar, perched just outside the stone walls of Lilay, is a haven for those with ill repute, offering an affordable yet squalid refuge. Its weather-beaten wooden sign swings in the breeze, barely readable through the grime of time and neglect. A steady stream of dubious figures drift in and out, each bringing with them a mix of misfortune and unsavoury deeds. Inside, the air is thick with the stench of stale ale, unwashed bodies, and the faintest hint of something far worse. The common sleeping room is filled with a motley assortment of drifters, thieves, and vagabonds, some snoring loudly in their threadbare blankets, while others huddle together in hushed conversations, eyes darting around suspiciously.
The half dozen private rooms are rented out to those who seek some semblance of privacy—or perhaps just a little quiet for their deeds. These rooms are far from luxurious, their walls thin, the floors creaky, and the air musty with years of neglect. Whether one rents by the night or the hour, it doesn't much matter—the grime, the disrepair, and the occasional scuffle are all part of the experience. In the corner, an aging bartender serves cheap liquor, his face a permanent scowl from years of enduring the worst of humanity. The Scratin’ Beggar is no place for those seeking comfort or safety. It’s a refuge for the desperate, the outlawed, and the forgotten. If you're passing through Lilay and you don't mind a little company of the most unsavoury kind, you'll find no better, nor cheaper place to stay.
The Weeping Virgin is a notable establishment in the region, perhaps due to its somewhat mysterious reputation and the colourful individuals who frequent its walls. Situated off the centre of the bustling town, the inn draws in those seeking respite from their daily lives. Its worn, yet welcoming atmosphere, punctuated by the faint scent of aged wood and lingering smoke, appeals to a broad spectrum of people. It has earned a reputation for being a place of solace or indulgence, depending on one's needs. The inn’s name, “The Weeping Virgin,” carries with it a certain level of mystique. While some may attribute it to a religious icon or tragic past, few truly understand its origins. Some say that it refers to an ancient portrait hanging above the hearth, a woman with a sombre expression, gazing downward, a single tear trickling from her cheek. Others think it simply refers to the discontent of those who seek temporary comfort within the inn’s walls.
The Main Hall is always lively, with the hum of conversation filling the air. Wooden tables, flickering lanterns, and the clinking of goblets create a warm, yet almost melancholic ambiance. Many come here to nursing their drink and quietly reflecting on the pain or satisfaction of their past. While most of the business takes place in the open hall, the inn also offers discreet rooms for those who seek privacy, whether for matters of business, secrecy, or personal indulgence. Talented bards or minstrels perform, adding to the mood of the space. For some, it’s an opportunity to forget the world; for others, it's a moment to reflect on the cost of their future or past actions.
The establishment serves a particular set of patrons such jaded male nobles and wealthy merchants tired of pretence and the constraints of their status. The Weeping Virgin allows them to momentarily let down their guard and interact with others on a much more personal level. Since the Civil War and the Demi-Human invasion, the inn has adapted to a shifting clientele. The war, which devastated the province, caused some nobles to lose their estates and forced travellers to rethink their routes. Despite the upheaval, the Weeping Virgin has maintained its presence as a hub for those seeking refuge or simply looking for a place to drown their sorrows. Its ability to survive and adapt speaks volumes about its importance, both as a place of community and as a safe haven for those who don't quite fit into society's mold.
