Imagine a large forest of trees which has grown with barbed wire tangled throughout the branches and trunks, and you have the Gire Forest.[pms-restrict subscription_plans=”40705,40706,40707,40708″]

The only real reason that anybody would ever venture into the Gire Forest is to look for Gulgot eggs. This isn’t the ONLY place where Gulgot nest, but eggs are found more often there due to the difficulty traversing the forest.[/pms-restrict]

Gire is the largest forest in the of the Viar-Hoon District, of course found in the rusty Hoon Province.


The Gire Forest stretches over miles and miles across the Gire Valley. The town of Skoff serves as a gateway to the forest, and is certainly the most populated stead in the region.

The forest is an insane tangle of Viarwire, overflowing the underbrush, but also tangling up through the branches themselves, all the way to the treetops. It’s devilishly difficult to navigate, though the local Tenna – crow birdmen – seem to do pretty well through there, along with the Gulgot birds.


There is certainly no known leader of the Gire, though leaders of the wild Tenna tribes do emerge from time to time.

Law Enforcement

Law is a foreign concept to those that live in the forest.


No one really knows how many folk live in the Gire, though some have guessed that the makeup looks something like this:

  • 50% Tenna – Small humanoid crows that are from the forest.
  • 25% Trolla – Muscle is always needed in forsaken places such as Viar.
  • 20% Vaesil trying to earn an Obscuro.
  • 5% Manlings and assorted misfits and fortune seekers


Weather rarely effects Gire; it is almost always cold, no matter the season. The forest canopy is thick enough that snow rarely touches the earth, though rain seems to make it through just fine. Inside of the forest, it seems to be just below freezing at all times, and one would never know the season just by the feel of the place.


The Great Gire Forest is cold, and very dark. Sun has never touched the forest floor. A slight breeze can be felt, which seems to blow from the Northeast to the Southwest, most “days”, though only a fool would navigate by it.

The wire criss-crossing the trees is arduous at best; wire cutters are necessary to clip any sort of pathway, and it is as slow going as any very difficult travel we’ve encountered. The wires tear at hair, cloth, and armor, tangling the feet, and grabbing backpack straps as well as boot laces. Travel in Gire is infuriating, unless one is on the Gire Crossroad.

Places of Interest

The Crossroads

There are two roads in Gire that meander through the forest but meet in the center, in an enormous cross. They are nicknamed “the Crossroads” though one is called Skoffpath and the other “Argent’s Road”.

Vintal’s Oasis

This is probably the most popular bar for newcomers to Weeve, mostly due to the fact that Vintal actively discourages murder in his pub.

“No ‘Sil Served Here”

It’s a clean place, with large rectangular iron-topped tables, ample lanterns, and friendly waitstaff. 8 rooms are available to rent, as well as 1 large group room, often reserved for coach crews. The hall can also be rented for those that don’t mind sleeping on hard tile, for a cheaper price.

There is a large hearth with a warm fire during the winter, [pms-restrict subscription_plans=”40705,40706,40707,40708″]and is utilzed to cook soup and bake bread.

A pair of Ogra twins (Druv and Luk) work the door as bouncers, and are instructed to break the legs of any who fight within the establishment with their enormous battons.

Vintal, an unsuccessful Broxan Monk, is regularly found behind the bar listening to the tall tales of pilgrims and trekkers.[/pms-restrict] He seems satisfied with his life here in Weeve, though he certainly misses his younger adventures.

Vintal’s Oasis Menu:

  • Clean water
  • Millet bread
  • Skoff Spice[pms-restrict subscription_plans=”5,6,7,8″] Beer
  • Thistlemead
  • Roasted sweet potatoes
  • Beet soup
  • Monk’s (millet) porrige
  • Roasted Gulgot bird with millet[/pms-restrict]

Wargain’s Daily Market

A daily market where discoveries from the rust-wastes are traded by enterprising adventurers. While most of the wares for sale are common scrap, sometimes weapons and antiques of interest are made available for trade.

  • Hurvok (Trolla) – Sells scrap metal in big baskets
  • Mulgh (Vaesil) – Sells blades, parts of blades, and resharpened knives
  • Tory Torrey (Viarling) – Sells wild beets from his cart
  • Gimch (Manlings) – Sells millet bread loaves

The Shiv & Shackle

The roughest bar “in” Weeve, “the Shiv” is found just outside of the city’s stout iron gates. It is a favorite of the Vaesil, who gather there in the hundreds every night, drinking and carousing until dawn.

It looks like a bricked bunker tower, with small windows rising to 3 vertical stories.

Inside, there are large hanging wire baskets for Vaesil to gather in, like booths, all around the large, inner chamber. Gangs of 5 to 10 ‘Sil sit within, drinking, laughing, gambling, and watching the fights below.

There is a very large fighting pit dominating the center of the room, for the hourly fights that are both scheduled, and unscheduled. It is not uncommon for a few dozen Vaesil deaths to occur every evening.

Games are played at the Shiv, including:

  • Shiv throwing
  • Dice Stab (dice gambling)
  • Karvak (cards)

While it is very dangerous for Manlings, it is an excellent place to find information about the goings-on of the entire District. The ‘Sil may be horrible folk, but they pay attention to local gossip.

The Shiv is owned by local cut throat Rumvid, who lives above the bar on the top floor. He is seldom seen in the bar itself, having a private tavern for him and his Rumvado gang.

It is said that he has his own private tunnel entrance to and from Weeve, so he is never seen coming or going from the bar.

The Shiv’s Menu:

  • Thistlegrog – 1 coin per pitcher
  • Bantu Beer (millet)
  • Beet rum
  • BBQ Vole on a stick

Broxa Temple

In the center of Weeve is the Broxa Temple, a very large, cylindrical tower, with an open arched entrance, and small stained glass windows.

Inside, the Broxa monks meditate, study their scrolls and exercise with their long staffs around the grand white statue of the godling BROXA. Sometimes folks in trouble come requesting sanctuary in the temple, and if their will is good, they are accepted.

The head monk is named Sifu Rull, a grey haired Broxa standing a foot taller than the rest. He has so many wrinkles on his face, one can barely find his eyes.

Fighting – other than sparring – is firmly forbidden inside of the temple.

Famous Weeve-Folk:

Rumvid – This gristly Vaesil is known to haunt the town of Weeve, Rumvid is a calculated killer who can be hired for a sack of Obscuros or a gallon of Thistle Mead.

He is highly respected by his people, and leads a treacherous gang of Vaesil called the “Rumvado”.

Rumvid is seeking a brass tablet spell that rolls back one’s age by a decade.

Dast – A Vaesil fence, he is able to buy and sell most things that can be bought, in Weeve. He maintains a wagon-hut inside of Weeve, that frequently moves.

Sifu Rull – A very tall, grey haired Broxa Monk and staff master. He is able to levitate when he meditates, and knows a secret way into the Weeve-Down.

Street Encounter Chart (d10)

[pms-restrict subscription_plans=”40705,40706,40707,40708″]

  1. A Broxan Monk walks down the street, quietly chanting to himself.
  2. A gang of 5 Vaesil pass by, and then turn, and begin following the party. Soon, more join them.
  1. A group of Viarling workers are moving crates (salt) down the street. (To a local inn.) They seem to be watched over by a grim looking Manling with a wide hat.
  2. A Viarling cooking (and selling) Vole-on-a-stick. He seems to have a lot of them.
  3. A unit of the Shield rush down the street towards the party. (Most likely heading to a ‘Sil disturbance around the corner.)
  4. A group of Vaesil children hunting vole with whip-sticks and small cages run down the alley.
  5. A smiling Vaesil selling counterfeit maps to the Weeve-Down. “I have something for you, FRIENDO.”
  6. A Trolla struggles with pulling a huge crate down the street, by a thick rope. Something inside mews.
  7. A pack of wild