Cool grotto

A subterranean grotto with plants and a stream.

A cave in a twisting maze of valleys leads to a cool grotto. Plants climb up the walls and hang from dripping stalactites; this is a veritable subterranean garden, lit by glowing mushrooms, with a stream winding its way through it; insects and tiny frogs live among the plant life, and small, blind cave fish swim in the stream.

At the back of the grotto is a passage deeper into the earth, in which marks of some large predator’s passing may be found.

Dusthill

Frontier town at the edge of the western wastes.

Even though it’s the largest of the frontier settlements scattered along the edge of the western wastes, calling Dusthill a “town” might be giving it too much credit. The town center (such as it is) consists of ten or so buildings—the town jail, the tavern, a handful of shops. (There are no “streets” to speak of.) Loosely scattered around this core are a number of homesteads. The total population is not quite a thousand.

There’s no government in Dusthill—no mayor, no town council—because there isn’t really anything for a government to do (and the sorts of people who come out to the frontier aren’t keen on being told how to run their lives, anyhow). Anyone can come, claim a plot of land that isn’t occupied, build a house; anyone can trade or do business with whoever they like. That doesn’t mean that Dusthill’s lawless, though; there’s a sheriff here (elected by the locals, though word is that he runs unopposed every time—nobody else wants the job), and folks won’t tolerate antisocial behavior. Mostly, though, people just mind their own business.

With two exceptions, all the structures in Dusthill are built of mud brick. Wood’s too scarce to build with, out here; the few trees nearby are thin, bent, twisted things, no good for lumber. Food’s a perpetual problem, too; cattle don’t thrive here, nor many other domestic animals; and the land’s no good for most crops. Some of the locals raise goats or llamas; some grow beans and other legumes; some hunt lizards (and even stranger game) out in the wastes. A caravan stops by once a month, and the people of Dusthill trade for foodstuffs, metalworks, and other needed things, exchanging snakeskins, giant lizard teeth, “medicinal” cactus flowers, and some even more exotic products of the wastes.

Goblin warrens

Cramped, stinking cave-warrens teeming with goblins.

Entrances to the warrens line a deep ravine.

Lower caverns

Caverns that lead to the Master’s domain.

Old guard tower

An old guard tower on a hill.

Supposedly “haunted” by “ghosts”, according to some goblin.

Outcast cave-village

Cave-dwelling of a small band of exiles from the Master’s tribe.

A series of linked caverns, around a main cave whose floor and walls are built up with stone dwellings. Poor-quality construction here tells of a people who are unused to building and living in this way, and must adapt to novel circumstances. Less than a hundred people live here.

The outcasts here hate and oppose the Master, though they are nowhere near numerous or strong enough to challenge him. They hold the outcasts of other camps in the region (who hope to get back into the Master’s good graces) in contempt.

Andoras (formerly an enforcer in the Master’s service) leads these people. Mirala (formerly a priestess) is his wife.

Strange crystal cave

Damp cavern with glowing mushrooms and odd crystals.

A cave mouth high on a hillside opens into a cavern where strange crystals and mushrooms grow; moisture condenses on the cool walls and drips down in rivulets. Flowing water may be heard, but no source is visible.

The Master’s domain

Subterranean domain, inhabited by humans, ruled by the Master.

A series of caverns, inhabited by some thousands of humans. The Master rules here, following the dictates of “the Goddess”, and dispensing her gifts to his people.

To pass between the Master’s domain and the surface, one must pass through the Lower Caverns, where all manner of peril awaits.