Womtham

Womtham is a major city, located on the upper reaches of the Duntide River. Womtham's population stood at 13,000 before the war, but this has swollen to some 24,000 now including a shanty town of tents, shacks and even covered wagons around the recently completed city walls.

Womtham occupies a key strategic position. Gamboge produce for Rel Mord is shipped down the Duntide from here, as are metals from the Flinty Hills, on their way to the Royal Mint of Womtham. The city is also the headquarters of the eastern armies, with 1,000 troops resting between tours of duty. All told, Nyrond has some 5,000 troops in and around the Flinty Hills, and another 4,000 patrolling in the region of the borders with the chaotic lands just west of the Adri forest.

If it still had but 13,000 people, Womtham would be reasonably prosperous. Because the trade which passes through is so essential to Nyrond, even Archbold takes a lenient line on extra taxation here. There is guaranteed work for Womtham's people loading up goods for shipment, in the Mint, in the army of the land, and elsewhere.

The influx of easterners looking for work and food has begun to make matters difficult. The town's ruler, Duke Finelann Boomgren, sealed the town's gates against the 5,000 shanty town folk, but this isn't entirely effective. With so many wagons, boats, and people having legitimate business coming and going, Womtham's back alleys and more run down laborers' houses swell with refugees. As is often the case, starvation, begging, disease and crime are no strangers to this Nyrondese town.

One related problem Womtham faces is an increase in the activity of wererats in its sewers and most dilapidated housing. A priest of the deity Squerrik (see Monster Mythology) coordinates their attacks.

Because the army is strong, and Boomgren has proclaimed martial law in parts of the city, with the support of its indigenous inhabitants, the refugees are sullen, miserable wretches, too pitiful for rebellion. Womtham's original inhabitants have actually turned on their fellow countrymen, denouncing them as cowards and faint-hearts who won't work in their own lands to earn a living and supply the town with the food it needs. This is an unusual reaction, Nyrondese folk rarely turn against each other elsewhere, but there are seeds of true bitterness here.

Evil priests are no strangers to the lands across the border, and they might find fertile soil for their doctrines in the hearts of many refugees. Should they be able to reach them with their words there could be real trouble in Womtham.