Wodeford sits on the Eastern shore of Pinelark Lake. Its economy relies heavily on fishing. Down by the docks, rows upon rows of stalls are set up, sporting the day’s fresh catches. The women sell the goods while the men and their sons fish from before sun up until midday. There’s a bevy of fish, including salmon, catfish, bass, gar, and minnows.

The large town boasts around 1500 residents. If you ask them where the town got its name, some might say that it used to be called Woodford, on account of the nearby pine forests and the fact that the northern edge of the town was a popular spot to ford the River Chivaas that feeds Pinelark Lake, before the North Bridge was built.

The truth is that nearby fields of flowers had been used in the past for tattoo inks when the original barbarian settlers came into the area. They had given up their nomadic ways when some of the peoples they conquered and assimilated taught them agriculture. The spot by the lake seemed the perfect place for them to set up their community. Only some of the very old or learned inhabitants of Wodeford know this story.

Wodeford is governed by a Magister appointed by the Baron Raynolds who oversees all the land East of the Mowery River to the Gydan Mountains, bordered on the North by Pliny Fields and to the South by the Crimson Road. The town’s current Magister is Victor Blakefield, who was appointed four months ago when his predecessor, Armond Hammond, was called back to Hornfield to serve in Raynolds’s retinue.

There are three blacksmiths in town, of varying skill and specialties. Hiring any one of them is done through their own local Blacksmiths Guild. They formed it with the intent of parceling out work and keeping prices fair. Since they are such a loose organization and do not collect dues, they have so far been exempt from paying a Guild Tax. Whether this practice changes under Magistrate Blakefield is yet to be seen.


BEER VIII kilnik