The noble Glowboar (Sus Luminosus) is – along with the Elderstag (Cervidus Venerabilis) and the Dire Rabbit (Oryctolagus Chungus) – one of the many regal game animals at large in the forests of Tinnethaine. It’s basically a pig with glowing tusks.
The Royal Bison (Bison Mittelveldi Rex) was a brilliant silver bison, standing nine-feet tall at the shoulder, which roamed the plains of Tharn in herds ten-thousand strong. They were the favoured quarry of the Bison King’s ancestors. Unfortunately, they recently became extinct due to … cancer or something.[21]
The legendary Hörse (Equus Perfectus) is identical to a normal horse, but somehow better in every way. Hörses have complex genealogies, intricate manners, and are utter snobs, refusing to allow anyone outside of royalty to ride them.[22]
The Bigwolf (Lupus Bastardis) is a wolf the size of a rhino, native to the tundra of Bludvarle but kept by many nobles and knights across Fysteros. Foul tempered and prone to dropping massive, meaty turds, they’re a perfect emblem for their realm.
Pity the Sparrilla (Gorilla Passerinus), one of the midrange monsters commonly found in Tinnethaine’s dungeons: it has the robust body of a gorilla, but the head and mind of a common domestic sparrow. Whatever Wizard created it must have been a real git.
The Eavesdropper (Sphaera Multiaures) is a feared deep-dungeon monster resembling a hovering meaty sphere, with a toothy maw and hundreds of human ears arranged across its surface. It is said to particularly despise bards.
People
Until consensus is reached on the animals/people issue, the civilised folk of Mittelvelde have been defined as those being roughly humanoid, and these are split into seven peoples.[23]
Humans
It should be pretty clear what humans are, because you probably are one.
Orcs
Big, muscular folk with grey skin and heavy jaws, the Orcs are the second-most common people in Mittelvelde. The vast majority live in huge, semi-buried hives in New Tharn, while some outlaw settlements, still loyal to the Duke, persist in the forests of Mathelvayle and the hills of Kranagar. Orcish society is largely matriarchal, and probably based around hunting and sports, I would imagine.
Goblins
These horrid things are like small, skinny Orcs, and tend to show up wherever Orcs do. They’ve never really been great warriors, tending instead to loiter around Orcish settlements, cooking and playing nonsensical games.[24]
Dwarves
A people of short, intensely broad stature resembling tiny, bearded wrestlers, the Dwarves are a diminished but still significant presence in the world. All female, they live in vast fortresses beneath the world’s mountains, in colonies led by a handful of egg-laying queens. Completely obsessed with digging holes.
Elves
The few Elves left in the world live deep in Mathelvayle, and in ruins on the coasts of Syrillar. They are an extremely unnerving people, with clammy milk-white skin, eyes with horizontal-slit pupils, and ornate platinum antlers sprouting from their hairless heads.[25] Needless to say, they also have pointy ears.
Wizards
Although it’s hard to tell the real thing from imitations these days, Wizards are definitely … something. They tend to look human, although spend more than a few hours in the company of one and you will see they are anything but. Capricious and scheming, Wizards have their own weird agenda for the world, and will take extraordinary measures to see it play out. Trust them at your own risk.
The Big Lads
There are dozens of giant humanoid species roaming Tinnethaine, from the tree-like Gargelms of Mathelvayle to the Ettins of Syrillar, and the Trolls, Ogres and Frost Giants of the mountain regions. They all maintain simple, tool-using cultures, and are generally respectful of the Pact of Grimlakk. For ease of classification, these are all lumped together under the category of ‘the Big Lads’. They are mostly reasonable, with disastrous exceptions.
Some time after stopping for lunch, I caught my first glance of a fantastic humanoid. We were crawling up yet another scree-choked pass, when the cart’s donkey grew agitated. Sniffing the wind, my guide sat bolt upright with alarm, and brought the cart to a dead stop. I tried to ask what was happening, but he clamped a filthy hand over my mouth and extended a wobbling finger into the blizzard ahead.
It was an Ogre – or potentially a Troll? It was hard to tell through the flurries of snow, but it was definitely that sort of thing: huge and grey and horribly muscular, like an elephant forced into the shape of a man and made to subsist on a diet of raw steak. I am fairly sure it had tusks, and it carried what appeared to be a club of some kind (possibly a big bone?) over its shoulder. Even though it must have been eighty yards away, its footfalls caused pebbles to rattle down the mountainside beside us and bounce against the cart’s wheels.
For a moment I thought it was coming straight for us, and my bowels grew loose – the bloody thing would polish off our donkey like a braying kebab, then knock us back as a ghastly amuse-bouche – but then it wandered off into a side branch of the pass and disappeared. A long while after the rumble of its footsteps had subsided, my guide offered me a bleak nod, and we continued on our way.
— FROM THE TRAVEL JOURNAL OF FLOYD WATT
3. PLANNING YOUR TRIP
When to Visit
Making an exception for the frankly bizarre climate of Fysteros, Mittelvelde is good to visit all year round, with no particularly punishing extremes of weather. More martially inclined travellers should take note that campaign season is in early spring, when Tharnish expeditions and Dwarven Grudging parties tend to head out into Mathelvayle to disperse camps of rogue Orcs. There are also
