The Barrens
Two oceans trap Aysea: one blue, one green. The blue one is the Atlantic, predictable in its dangers, navigable by anyone with a decent boat. The green one is the Barrens, and it is far more dangerous. Dense pine forest stretches from the shantytowns lining the far shores of Aysea westward to the Delphian Wastes, northward toward the Old York crater, and southward to May Cape. The forest is so thick, so relentless in its growth, that any building left unattended near the treeline is consumed by the pines within weeks. A handful of farming communities and caravan stops have cleared small patches, but the woods reclaim every inch of ground the moment attention turns elsewhere.
Aysea depends on the mainland for survival. The island cannot sustain itself without regular contact with the continent: trade, materials, and the biggest share of foot traffic all flow through the Barrens along the Pale Horse Pike, the sole road connecting the coast to the interior. Whoever controls the Barrens controls Aysea's lifeline, and that someone is Denny Leeds, the Pine Baron. The Leeds clan holds firm grip over most of the region. Communities they do not rule outright still pay protection. Caravans on the Pike pay tolls. The Pine Baron's most lucrative arrangement is his contract with the Board of Aysea to guard Pleasantville, for which he receives payment that would choke a Vegasian crimelord.
The forest is not merely difficult to traverse; it is actively hostile. Tales of devils haunting the woods have persisted for hundreds of years and have only grown more credible since the Fall. Bandits and raiders lurk along the detour routes that travelers take to avoid the ghost towns, many of which have become tiny isolated necropoli where the undead are the only inhabitants. The Demon's Own, a Final Knights faction, hunts the Pike. Dog Company, a ragtag humanitarian outfit, does what it can for travelers in distress. The Kennel, a small community in the hills far north and west, remains distant enough to avoid the Pine Baron's influence. Everyone else in the Barrens either pays Leeds, avoids Leeds, or has not yet learned that those are the only two options.
Aysea depends on the mainland for survival. The island cannot sustain itself without regular contact with the continent: trade, materials, and the biggest share of foot traffic all flow through the Barrens along the Pale Horse Pike, the sole road connecting the coast to the interior. Whoever controls the Barrens controls Aysea's lifeline, and that someone is Denny Leeds, the Pine Baron. The Leeds clan holds firm grip over most of the region. Communities they do not rule outright still pay protection. Caravans on the Pike pay tolls. The Pine Baron's most lucrative arrangement is his contract with the Board of Aysea to guard Pleasantville, for which he receives payment that would choke a Vegasian crimelord.
The forest is not merely difficult to traverse; it is actively hostile. Tales of devils haunting the woods have persisted for hundreds of years and have only grown more credible since the Fall. Bandits and raiders lurk along the detour routes that travelers take to avoid the ghost towns, many of which have become tiny isolated necropoli where the undead are the only inhabitants. The Demon's Own, a Final Knights faction, hunts the Pike. Dog Company, a ragtag humanitarian outfit, does what it can for travelers in distress. The Kennel, a small community in the hills far north and west, remains distant enough to avoid the Pine Baron's influence. Everyone else in the Barrens either pays Leeds, avoids Leeds, or has not yet learned that those are the only two options.
Geography
The Barrens are an endless wall of pine. The forest stretches across the mainland west of Aysea, so dense and uniform that navigation without landmarks is nearly impossible. The treeline begins at the edge of the shantytowns that cluster along Aysea's far shore and does not relent until the terrain changes at the regional borders: the Old York crater to the north, the Delphian Wastes to the west, May Cape to the south. The Pale Horse Pike cuts through the forest as the sole maintained road, running inland about twenty miles from the coast.
The pines are almost predatory in their reclamation of human structures. Abandoned buildings near the treeline are swallowed within weeks, their walls cracked by roots, their roofs collapsed under the weight of new growth. Ghost towns along the Pike have been reclaimed by both the forest and the dead, their streets navigable only by those desperate or foolish enough to enter. The coastal areas where the forest thins offer some relief, but the interior is a green ocean of identical trees, filtered light, and the constant awareness that something is watching from the undergrowth.
The pines are almost predatory in their reclamation of human structures. Abandoned buildings near the treeline are swallowed within weeks, their walls cracked by roots, their roofs collapsed under the weight of new growth. Ghost towns along the Pike have been reclaimed by both the forest and the dead, their streets navigable only by those desperate or foolish enough to enter. The coastal areas where the forest thins offer some relief, but the interior is a green ocean of identical trees, filtered light, and the constant awareness that something is watching from the undergrowth.
