The Hartwood Itself

The Hartwood is a forest region located on the northern portion of the largest continent. It mainly consists of a rugged expanse of hardwood forest, with openings here and there for meadows, and a number of river systems flowing through it. Continuing outside the Hartwood to the east will lead to the forest giving away to grasses and sand, and finally a great freshwater body of water. It's unclear if it's a lake or an ocean, because the sort of people willing to tackle it via boat haven't made it up there yet, and the Hartwood tends towards being an area that's...less than hospitable to those trying to catalog the realm. The land itself changes as you head out of the other forested areas into the portion designated the Hartwood; the soil grows rockier and less easy to work for crops, the cliffs and deadfalls of trees harder to pass, and the forest itself has the distinct feel that magical places tend to collect over time. In the Hartwood, visistors tend to find that their hair tends to stand on end, that they feel like they're being watched, and that the woods are deeply suspicious of them at best.

This is for a good reason, because the Hartwood is the domain of what's known as a small god, a regional deity with a narrow focus and no interest in spreading their influence. Skelfthyrnir rules the Hartwood, and has long enforced some very strict rules on any humanoids that either blunder into its depths or, unwisely, decide to go adventuring there.

Inhabitants of the Hartwood

As might be inferred from its name, the Hartwood is full of deer, a large northern variety that grow some truly impressive antlers in the males. These deer are the entire reason Skelfthyrnir exists. The Hartwood was always a place with magic seeped into the very land, from when it initially formed, and this has had an impact on the wildlife as well. The deer of the Hartwood might not be going off to form empires or do math or invent the wheel, but they're more celver than your average deer and when an influx of young dragons began coming into the Hartwood in search of prey, they figured out prayer really quick. Belief and prayer is the genesis of a god, and havoc that was being wrecked on the deer population led to enough cries for a protector that Skelfthyrnir burst forth from the forest, a mass of thorn, bone, smoke, antlers and rage that proved not only powerful enough to go chasing off dragons, but to go trek to demand an audience with the local dragon queen over wanting the dragons out. (It worked, too. The sheer gall and fire of this new little god impressed Rhaena very much.)

Even with the dragon problem solved, Skelfthyrnir has remained a protector for the deer, looking out for them and guiding them to food during the harshest winters, defending them from non-native predators that occasionally make their way in (the mountain bears, should they descend in the spring, are a terror, as are the great boars), and perhaps most importantly of all for their continued safety-guarding against the intrusion of most of the bipedal peoples, who otherwise might hunt the deer and claim all of the Hartwood for themselves. With the village that Skelf has given his blessing to, relations between the deer and the humanoids are good. Portions of the crops are specifically grown without the fences that keep the deer out of the other fields, and even the protections on those fields are designed to startle a deer away, rather than harm. In the fall, villagers and deer work together to collect the fruits, nuts, and tubers of the forest and help take some of it to market, with the deer being paid for their pulling of carts or carrying saddlebags in part of the harvest. Some of the deer are friendly enough to even allow themselves to be ridden, and take the place of horses for the villagers. This is particularly common with the white or piebald deer that were brought as fawns to live amongst the protection of the village's sheep flock.