Welcome to the Humbledoewn Valley, the best place on the continent, no matter what the rest of the continent says. These hills and fields were once ruled by the Dan’del’ion Court, a dark and bloody chapter we’ve collectively decided to keep out of polite conversation. In fact, we decided even keeping it in the history books was a little too dangerous, so most records and evidence were tossed out entirely. These days, the valley is the agricultural heart of the realm, feeding cities far beyond its borders with produce that actually tastes like something. Life here is generally simple: market days, harvest festivals, neighbours who know your business before you do. It’s a patchwork of stubborn towns, strange landmarks, and people who will give you directions, an opinion, and a bag of produce you didn’t ask for, all in one breath. The air smells different in every corner, the history is older than most of its buildings, and the scenery will take your breath away.
But every so often, the valley remembers its past, and that’s when the quiet stops being quiet, and the stories start.
Places of Interest
Dawnsheart
Municipal capital of the Humbledoewn Valley, seat of the Church of the Prophet, and most importantly, my home. The streets are busy, the markets are loud, and the people are the kind who’ll argue with you just to make sure you’re paying attention. Great people, really. The kind who’ll help you fix a broken cart wheel in the rain, then immediately remind you how you should have done it properly the first time.
The Briars
Two towns, one river, and the best berry-based produce you’ll find anywhere: Briarbright to the north, Brightbriar to the south, split neatly by the Crystal River. They were once a single place called Briarton, the former valley capital, until a feud caused a rift and the town literally split in two. No one remembers what started it, and no one cares enough to mend it. Both sides will tell you their berries are better, and honestly, they’re both right.
Ravenswell
The valley’s industrial heart, tucked into a smoky nook at the base of the Marwhera Peaks. If it can be forged, hammered, or smelted, you’ll find it here, along with a permanent layer of soot on your clothes. The craftsmen and smiths are second to none; the air quality, not so much. Buy your tools and weapons here, but maybe eat somewhere else unless you enjoy your stew with a faint coal-dust garnish.
The Whispering Crypts
Final resting place of the valley’s most important (and occasionally least missed) people. The site is essentially a natural, haunted church organ: ocean winds roar through the sea caves below and scream out of vents carved into the burial mounds above. The result is a constant chorus of wails and screeches that will make your hair stand on end. Ear protection is strongly advised, unless you enjoy feeling like the dead are auditioning for an opera in your skull.
Castle Ieyoch
Once the beating black heart of the Dan’del’ion Court, now mostly a ruin with aspirations. Word is someone’s giving it a facelift. Still, it’s apparently hard to beat the view from up there: on a good day you can see the whole valley, all the way to the Whispering Crypts. And on a bad day? Well, the mist swallows the horizon and the wind howls through the stones.
Nelb
If you’re passionate about onions and cabbages, truly, deeply passionate, Nelb will be your paradise. If you’re not, it’s a parade of leafy disappointment. The main street smells like someone pickled the air, and in a way, they have. The one saving grace is the sizzlecake: crisp, fragrant, and genuinely delicious. Order it to go. That way, you can enjoy it somewhere else.
The Kashten Dell
A forest glade straight out of a pastoral painting, small lake, wildflowers, and the Prophet Rock at its heart. Every harvest festival, the prophecy for the coming year is read from that stone, a tradition older than most of the valley’s grudges. The most recent festival ended in flames, which was less “picturesque” and more “the start of this entire adventure I’m now stuck chronicling.”
Known Dandelion Stump Portals
By day, they’re just tree stumps, the sort you wouldn’t glance at twice unless you were particularly into forestry. Under moonlight, though, they bloom with a silver-glowing Dan’del’ion sigil that apparently opens a shortcut straight to Castle Ieoyoch. How many there are is anyone’s guess, but I’d wager “too many” is the safe answer.
The Chronicles of Klept 