Jergervalt

Unless a crew fancies three weeks of inching along narrow, icy ledges in the Grensa mountains, the best way through Oria is the tunnel. At its west entrance, a colossal lodge house towers overhead. This is the House of Houses, the Gatehouse of Jegervalt.

Jegervalt is the largest Oric lodge house, both in size and population. Two towers flank the entrance to the tunnel, with a massive structure suspended over the arch between them. The three sections frame the tunnel’s mouth against the sheer face of Mount Roet. The stacked chambers of the two towers and skyway are spacious enough to house its twenty thousand Orians.

Layered Lodge
Each tower’s outer gate is 20 feet high, leading into the cavernous ground levels of Jegervalt’s interior. Most levels in the towers are a sprawl of stacked wooden structures, and each of them has 15 floors. Individual family homes cover the stone floor, and the 40-foot ceilings create the feeling that one isn’t inside a structure at all. A network of staircases facilitates travel between floors, along with elevators powered by copper pipes delivering water from underneath the gatehouse.

Each level has a different purpose and layout. Some layers are dense residential blocks, each a neighborhood with its own distinct identity. Other floors are open gardens with planters under Summerstone outcroppings. To preserve the Summerstone for use within the towers, the Orians carved Jegervalt out of the mountain just as much as they built around it.

Field
Only a few closed buildings dot the layers with large, continuous Summerstone veins. These floors are wide, grassy fields under a blazing mineral sun. This space is a precious stomping ground for locked-in youth during winter months.

Smithy
The smithy layers are hives of craftspeople, well-ventilated and bustling at all hours of the day. Despite the name, the smoky districts are also where tanners, stonemasons, and other workers ply their craft.

Garden
The large residences on these layers are each constructed around their own smaller cluster of Summerstone. Each personal source of sunlight feeds a large vegetable garden. The largest can even bathe orchards of fruit trees in perpetual sunshine.

Triple
Each tower has one layer with ceilings twice as high. A wide road supported by stone columns bisects them, connecting opposite elevators halfway up the wall. These levels are bursting with a maze of dense housing, built wherever it will fit and stacked three floors tall. The layers within layers are housing for Jegervalt’s refugees and poorest citizens. Every berendey hopes that “living in the triples” is a temporary arrangement for their people.

Lake
The lake layers both feature a long, circular path surrounding indoor bodies of clear water. An orb of magic light permanently surrounds a Summerstone crystal above each of them, a believable substitute for the sun. Tiny pebbles of faery fire in the lakes gleam every night when the orb is covered.

Open
A ring of stout columns surrounds a layer open to the elements, dividing both towers into an upper and lower half. Insulated stone doors wall off the stairs and elevators passing through, but these open layers allow air to flow up through the floors above. Dozens of wild birds zoom at a time between the columns in spring. In autumn, the open floors fall silent.

Roet Mole District
Miles of intersecting tunnels snake through Mount Roet, thanks to Jegervalt’s large population of moles. Ligonines continuously dig new homes out of the well-organized grid of hallways within the mountain behind the gatehouse.

Locals encourage visitors (who don’t mind somewhat claustrophobic corridors) to explore the welcoming ligonine district. However, they’re also advised to bring their own lamp. A lucky bit of Summerstone casts light for a hundred feet here and there. Other than that, however, Roet Mole District is entirely unlit.

The walk through the dark is worth it. Ligonines in Jegervalt excavate with great reverence for the mineral formations in Mount Roet. Moles spend decades painstakingly chipping stone away from crystal geodes, gems, and gold veins. Once exposed, jewelers volunteer time in winter to do their work on diamonds and other precious stones without removing them from the walls. The final work is an enormous natural sculpture, that showcases how Oria’s beautiful things sleep in the mountain. They are the pride of the district.

Roet is also a valuable source of goods and information from other parts of Oria. Moles can move around easier than surface-dwelling species during winter, as the Loamlink is snuggled under the blanket of millions of tons of stone. The Jegervalt tunnels are a hub for Dungeon leads to everywhere in Oria and a great place to buy imported steel forged by masters in the far north.

The last year or two has seen a spike in moles moving to Jegervalt, chased from their homes by unchecked Dungeon activity. Non-ligonine delvers often can’t reach these entrances. Because of ligonine darkvision, lighting the tunnels has never been a high priority. The twisting, ever-changing Loamlink is tricky to navigate anyway, even for people who can see perfectly well in the dark. The dangers of the Dungeon thrive down there and Jegervalt’s refugee issue is escalating. Soon it will be a full-on crisis.

Tunnel Market
Two miles of carts and stands line the walls of Jegervalt Tunnel. Everything esoteric is for sale in the Tunnel Market. Jegervalt’s students of the Covenant Forge rent space in the market whenever they create a useful magic item while chasing a larger thesis. Stacked shelves of secondhand wares are also available throughout the stalls.

Sellers fight tooth-and-claw over every inch of counter space in this dealer’s den. On any given day, it’s a safe bet that most sellers’ spot along the wall is borrowed from a friend who’s renting it from a guy who’s subletting it from a lady who’s held it for the last fifty years. If they can’t find a home elsewhere, foreign dealers sometimes live underneath their stands just to hang onto their leases.

Tunnel Market’s architecture is a testament to flexible Oric engineering. The proprietor of each tiny market enters through a tunnel in the rear, and some more sophisticated stands have a kiosk around this door out into their space. Then, the kiosk roofs begat walkways crossing between them, followed by a second level of shops sprouting out of the top. Then, that second level spurred on ligonine excavators to raise funds and dig side tunnel entrances for the new upper floor shop owners.

It’s like they say: if you give an Orian a hammer, he’ll use it to build its own bespoke structure. And if he’s a Valter, he’ll pop that bad boy onto a stack he’s already got going.

Mountain Heart
Jegervalt wasn’t always intended to be a gatehouse; in fact, the original structure was a single tower. Its site was chosen for what was under its foundation and inside the wall of the mountain. Oria’s capital city guards its most precious treasure: the densest Summerstone ever discovered. Magically luminous stone produces nourishing sunlight for vast subterranean crop fields. This season-proof wonder is the Mountain Heart.

Dozens of chambers make up the Mountain Heart, each connected by arterial tunnels. The smallest cavern is twenty acres wide, and the network runs 70 feet underground for miles in every direction around Jegervalt. Each chamber is its own farm, watered by “rain” from a network of copper pipes transporting fresh river water throughout. The chamber roofs blaze with exposed Summerstone so dense that it’s practically impossible to look straight up at the ceiling. However, the light and heat allow crops to grow underground without regard for the harsh winters.

A staple of the Jegervalt diet is stonewheat, a silver-colored grain bred to grow faster when exposed to the sun 24 hours a day. This allows more frequent harvests, but the need to rotate crops still limits Mountain Heart farmers. Oric wizards experiment constantly with other crops that might benefit from growing under Summerstone’s constant light.

House of Houses
Berendey Torsten is Oria’s ruler. He governs the homeland from the Seat of the Hunt, a throne made of ivory and the wood of a heartleaf tree. It sits in the center of the Gatehouse of Jegervalt’s uppermost level, overlooking the road leading up to the entrance into Jegervalt Tunnel. Every batko pays tribute and allegiance to Jegervalt, which earns their house the benefits of a combined economy and state military.

For visitors to Jegervalt, arranging a meeting with Torsten isn’t as lofty a task as, say, dinner with Queen Sophia. Torsten’s duty to Oria is mainly as its military commander and as an advisor to Jegervalt’s batko. In peacetime, his role more resembles that of a diplomat and representative of the collected houses.

Torsten has made it a goal as berendey to keep close relations with caravan chiefs and foreign dignitaries. The political benefits of bending his ear are self-evident, but delvers also tend to come away from a meal with Torsten surprised by how personable he is (especially a few horns of mead deep in the evening). Speaking with the berendey is especially recommended for a foreigner visiting Jegervalt for the first time.

The Housemeet
Every year, Orians hunt and farm enough to keep a surplus. Most follow the informal quota of “one and a tenth the need,” setting aside the rest. They store the excess for emergencies, but the plan is to have more than enough left over.

Every four years, they put the accumulated surplus to work, and most of a lodge’s workforce takes an entire season off. The batko gathers anyone from their house who can make the journey and together they bring their surplus to Jegervalt. Crowds of beasts and brethren gather from the remote corners of the homeland. It’s a summer-long festival of gold and goods—Oria throws the Housemeet.

The berendey handles official business at the beginning of the Housemeet. Attending batkos offer their house’s excess gold in tribute to Oria, the berendey’s house. They give according to what the batko deems they can spare, and their house’s family heads speak aloud to affirm the tribute.

Hunters gather the gold into a humble crate within the Seat of the Hunt’s base. This box is sacred to Oria, believed to have been built by the first beasts from the wood of a heartleaf tree. The fruit of such trees were how Pirhoua gave willfulness to her beasts, and Orians believe by continuing to use the box for an important function, they directly acknowledge that gift and honor Pirhoua.

After the money is rounded up, the berendey gets to work spending it. Most of each tribute will end up redistributed between the lodge houses who brought it to begin with. During this unique tax season, the gathered homeland spends over a month feasting and reveling. The houses pour their smoothest mead, eat their finest food, and sing their loudest songs. All of this is at the berendey’s expense, from excess fineries carried to Jegervalt.

The berendey spends time among his people during the Housemeet, sitting with everyone from seasoned batkos to teenagers who haven’t yet been on a hunt. He listens to stories from the last four years, hearing the troubles facing each house and aspirations they hold for the future. This fosters goodwill between the berendey and his people, but it also serves an economic purpose.

Even in a monthlong festival, Orians only manage to eat a portion of the tribute. Most of what remains is allocated to building monuments, maintaining roads, and funding the public good of Oria. The lodge houses truly do give as much as they can in tribute, since the berendey and his advisors account for their contributions when deciding whose appeals to fund. A small house with a compelling development plan can win favor and funding, but just as in the rest of the world, it certainly doesn’t hurt to be rich to begin with.

Every Housemeet attracts thousands of foreigners who make the trip north. They come to party like everyone else, as well as to purchase rare goods. Savvy lodges use this export windfall to their advantage, and the savviest leave the Housemeet with almost as much as they came with. Jegervalt’s doors are open for the Housemeet, in which the berendey boasts of Oria’s strength, fortune, and kindness.

Forge Maesters
A group of mages and scholars oversee the operation of Jegervalt’s Covenant Forges. No one uses a forge without their permission and supervision, as recklessness could endanger the entire lodge. The forge maesters also maintain infrastructure that depends on magic to function.

The maesters are a shrewd political force in the city. To be a forge maester is a proud achievement and it’s among the most lucrative jobs in Jegervalt. A maester’s family commands dignity and status despite their wealth; earning a position is a key force of social mobility in Jegervalt. However, an appointment requires exemplary arcane talent, not to mention connections in the community.

An open secret is building pressure in the gatehouse: senior leadership of the maesters believe brethren to be somehow unfit. Humans in Jegervalt have repeatedly showed genius and an immense capacity for magic, only to be passed over for recruitment. The brethren are noticing, and they’re too numerous to ignore forever.

Circle of Rage
A coterie of barbarians tucked away in the crowded levels of the gatehouse have honed their combat skills for generations. The Circle of Rage is a headstrong band of warriors who have often been the heroes of the hunt. However, in the last few years, their demeanor has shifted and the lodge house has suffered for it.

For reasons known only to them, the Circle of Rage has stopped taking part in the hunt. Instead, its members have slowly become misanthropes and criminals. Today, they are more known for shaking down businesses and bullying housewives from street corners. The Circle is rumored to have begun dealing with the Thieves’ Army as well, helping to smuggle contraband into the city.

Ksenia, Jegervalt’s ursine batko, is vexed by the Circle. Many are the children of prestigious hunters, and some have even been champions of their own journeys north. An all-out campaign against the Circle would embarrass some respected families and the house at large. How can she help these misguided bullies reconnect with the power and honor once commanded by their organization?

Jergervalt Forge
A hammer and anvil is stamped into the forge’s rivetedsteel door, and a cervine Jegervalt guard standing to its rightgives a nod. She bangs the door twice with a gauntleted fist. It swings open a moment later, blasting your faces with the aroma of oil and hot steel. As soon as it’s open, a clanking gear turning overhead closes it tight again.

The forge room is a wide, circular hall with a sturdy brick wall covered in protective wards. Seven wells of magic sit in the floor, with a combination of a smith’s and wizard’s workshop in the center. Hulking, overheated elk and bears occupy five of the forges. Their sweat-caked arms glimmer in the overhead Summerstone’s light, bulging with exertion. Hammers fall and bellow-chains clatter in a rhythmic performance.

Each forge flashes with blue light with the fall of a hammer, hissing strings of magic erupting from the objects within. One maester is plucking the exposed strings of his piece, hooking them around his fingers and weaving them together. The pattern they form changes with each sweep of his hands, gradually reshaping its arcane nature.

A grizzled little otter woman sits amid this circle of height and hulk, dressed like a roughshod member of Allemance’s Crown Guard. A cervine maester at least thrice her size stands over her. The two are in the middle of a friendly argument about the object in the forge—the otter’s dented, bronze prosthetic arm.

Who's Here

Witch Arm
Wondrous item, rare, requires attunement This articulating, bronze-cast prosthetic limb is filled with animated water that operates the pistons in the joints. Belts and buckles strap it to the torso, and a needle pricks the wearer to mix a drop of blood into the water during attunement.While wearing this arm, it moves and functions the same as a body part, though you cannot feel with it. You can speak its command word as a bonus action to activate it. While active, you add your Charisma bonus to melee weapon damage rolls and Strength checks. This effect lasts 1 minute, or until you end it as a bonus action. The arm can’t be used this way again until the next dawn.

Twin Tusks
This watering hole is way off the beaten path. The building sits against the outer wall, at the end of a street with two different shops selling mammoth hunting gear. The Twin Tusks is a plain wooden joint with a single floor and a single door. The only decoration is a pair of huge mammoth tusks, mounted above the entrance. You push it open and head in.

Dim light fills the bar from flickering oil lamps on each wall. The floor is clean, but also worn with nicks and gouges. Four stools sit along the knife-scratched bar top, and two chairs at the single table in the far corner. One keg and a half-dozen bottles are behind the counter, along with an elk bartender with pitch black fur. At the bar, a hard-faced lynx with a sturdy build contemplates an apple on a knife. A weary bear sits in the corner and shrinks away from the light as you enter.