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The town and duchy of Thornlin is tucked between a rock and a hard place. On one side, the mighty and immovable Quaran Empire, whose coinage, calendar, army, and fleet overwhelm all opposition…except the dead hand of redundant and oppressive bureaucracy. On the other, the country of Girifrid, in the precarious hands of a Quaran puppet, with a restive and proud people ready for an opportunity to reassert not only their independence from Quar but their traditional hegemony over the surrounding free states of Bapsia.
Thornlin, at the mouth of the Drip River, has a good harbor, a wealthy merchant class, shitty cold winters, and shrewd leadership. That hardly makes it invulnerable, and the docks and city have been stormed, burnt, toppled, and rebuilt more than once. Still, the position is good enough to have attracted a local community of “high dwarves,” of Upper Papimican ancestry, who share a proud tradition of craftsmanship, scholarship, and devotion to Sammas, Lord of Magic and Sagecraft. Although dwarves and humans have their differences, the humans of Thornlin are for the most part proud of their little colony and of its notable library of dwarven and wizardly lore.