A realm of low, sloping hills, covered by fields of cultivated crops, separated by small, dense forsets and dense scrubland thickets. The crops grow in abundance, soil is estremely fertile and farming is easy. In the forests and scrubland small and medium game thrives. In the forests, darker creatures lurk, and many thickets house large serpents. Frequently these monsters will depart their lairs in packs and search out larger prey then rabbits and small deer. Often they will come across the walled settlements of the people of Bilbligh. The settlements have high, strong walls and are built in the most defendable locations in the landscape, but at the same time, their interiors are spartan, and the people live in small huts.

Predominantly life is dedicated to collecting food and martial disciplines.
A caste system exists for the human-like Ackee; Priests, Defenders (soldiers), Hunter/gatherers, and Farmers.
Food is processed incredibly well by the locals; their bodies are incredibly efficient at processing fats and nutrients, and they have a lean appearance. The only members of society who differ are the priests, who seek to emulate their god in appearance. The priest caste are largely celibate and their numbers are made up of shildren who do not easily shed fat when young. These youths will never be able to match the lean physiques of the rest of society, and the priest caste is considered the place they will do the most good.

On a small hill covered with hand-high wheat crops, Pitcarn came to himself.
he was sitting, looking into the west, with his knees drawn up to his stomach
(he couldn't pull them tight enough into his chest), and his arms resting on
top of his knees. The sun was setting, a bright orange-red, with streaks of pink
and purple covering the clouds in contrast to the fields of yellow and light
green, as well as the darker green of the borders between the fields; the forests
and scrub that Pitcarn's Ackee feared.

Beside the god, to his right, a sword lay, in it's scabbard, as well as the belt
that Pitcarn used to fasten it to his waist. On his left, in immediate reach,
was a walking stick, of fine appearance.

Pitcarn tracked his head from left to right, in the distance, two thin, wispy
streams of white smoke could be seen emanating from walled villiages. Pitcarn
examined these for a while from his vantage point before nodding in approval, and
yawning.

He placed his right hand on the ground, in a gap between the wheat stalks and
absentmindedly began to paw at the ground; scraping dirt away until his hand
found a tuber. He plucked it from the earth and looked at it thoughtfully, before
placing it into a belt pouch on the ground next to his sword and laughing.

Taking the walking stick from the ground, Pitcarn levered himself up, then bent
down to take his sword, belt and other accoutrement and restore it to his waist.
"Well," he said as he eyed the closest villiage. "I begin."

He laughed again and began to walk down the hill.

He passed many, many farms, wandering over more hills than he could count, and the people always greeted him with the utmost respect. As he walked, a cloud passed over the sun, and Pitcarn felt a chill fall over him. Soon, he was at the great gates of one of the middle villages, towers reinforcing the gargantuan walls. A guard called hail to him, and the gates were opened.

By the time Pitcarn was inside of the village, the chief priest as at his feet, bowing politely.

"My Lord, you honour us all by coming to Gach, and you honour my conjurations by basking this place in the fruits of your eternal light."

Pitcarn laughed at this, like a generous and boisterous uncle amused by his favouite nephew's antics.

"You honour me, good priest. No, no, stand up straight, every person on their feet, we're all fit and well, and why do we have food for? To dwell in luxury and gluttony, or to use the sustenance it gives us to make better things of ourselves and the world? Hah! The physique of every man here does me proud,"
Pitcarn paused to look around at the strong, fit, tall people who were now abandoning their villiage tasks to watch Pitcarn and the priest.
"Although you sir," he said, motioning the priest. "You do me extra proud." He laughed as the priest glanced down at his belly, the girth of which rivalled Pitcarn's own expanse of stomach.

"So, do you have a name priest? Who is the leader in this villiage? Is it you, who come to greet me with such polite obeisiance? Hah!" Pitcarn laughed loudly again in amusement.

"Oh, you're all so polite, but so fit and ready to do your duty. Gather round my children, all of you, for I seek information. "

Here Pitcarn halted, and looked kindly at the priest who he had bombarded with questions before preventing him from replying by continuing to speak. He nodded his head at the man, to get across that he would be able speak to the god in a moment.

"Now listen carefully children," he said, now addressing the assembled crowd. "I need to know as much as you can tell me. How much you know of the other villiages, where they are and how far. What are your relations with them like? Do you have feuds or do you trade? Or both? Ha HA HA hahahaha. What are your long term resources like? does the villiage have the ability to survive without producing food for any length of time? I have sudden plans for Gach, plans that may see the villiage effectively emptied for a period of time but for guards on the walls, but I will not put them into place unless I know that Gach can survive them. I wish no suffering on any my people."

"We have enough food to last for six months without farming, Lord, but the lands must be maintained, lest the next harvest fail," said one of the farmers. There was an excitement about the people, a buzz that betrayed their curiosity towards their Lord.

"Enough for six months you say... interesting." Pitcarn's normally jovial demeanor had vanished for a moment as he pondered the situation.

"I want as many of the farmers from the local area to meet me here tomorrow night, I wish to talk with them concerning farming practices, especially the most viable ways of producing. " He pondered a moment before a large grin crossed his face. "We'll need a hall of some kind to meet in, too."
Pitcarn's laughter was already becoming very familiar to the villiagers.

"I also want half the defenders, all the hunters, half the farmers and a quarter of the preists from the villiage to assemble before me in 2 hours time. This is more important than labour, this is more important than food or eating." Pitcarn had become quite serious. "Know, my children, that here in this villiage, great endeavours are about to begin. The history of Bilbligh is about to change course."

"We will adjourn now, but return in 2 hours, this is of the utmost importance." Pitcarn made eye contact with the preist who had first addressed him. "You, priest," here the warmth and laughter returned to Pitcarn's eyes. "While the rest of the villiage assembles, let us talk."

"Yes, my Lord," said the priest, commanding a few servants to gather those who his God wished to speak to. "How might I serve your delicious presence?"

Paradox strikes Pitcarn and he is ripped straight to the Valley of Mist, his form being torn asunder and rebuilt in a single instant.

Pitcarn returns to His realm, and looks around at the place he departed, too long ago, but he wonders if any time has passed here at all. A preist looks at him expectantly, but the God of Food is unsure of it is the same one as before.

"Priest, I need to know many things of you, but I'll begin with the basics, just until I have recovered my bearings.
"The leader of this villiage, which individual or individuals might that be? and whom are you; that is to say, what are you called?"

(Sorry, no dice; privileges of time are lost when you're hit by paradox.)

Pitcarn blinks, shakes his head as the world around him shimmers and is gone; a hallucination. He remembered being here, seemingly only a second ago, but it was clear that hours had passed at least.. it was night in the small village, and stars littered the sky.

A man looks at him expectantly.

"Lord.. Lord? You've returned? Oh, we thought you'd abandoned us!"

Picarn looks at his subject, and asseses the villiage.

"No, not abandoned, just left for a while. How long was I gone for? Was anything done, or unusual happen, while I was away?"

"My questions still stand: Who are you, and how is this villiage lead? ((OOC; like I asked before))

"I.. yes, Lord," said the man. "I am Grigori, a tradesman. Nothing strange has occurred within the few hours since you first arrived.. and the village is run by a single elder, the Stave, who has declared his wish to meet you."

"Naturally tradesman, naturally. Of course he does.

"Lead me to his dwelling, but as you do, tell me: Are you a travelling tradesman? and if so, have you traveled far? I am very interested to know how much my people know of their own land, as I know so little of the mundane layout."

As he spoke, paradox caught up with Pitcarn and he suddenly found talking incredibly painful.

Grigori started to lead Pitcarn to the more densely populated area of the village. As he did, he informed Pitcarn:

"I make weapons, Lord, but the market for swords and bludgeons is a slim one; I travel quite often, from village to village, selling what I can. I hold a forge in Amthsbury, and caravans here and in several other locations.. I've traveled through much of safe Bilbligh."

Suddenly, Pitcarn saw that Grigori was looking at him in horror.

"Lord - Lord! Are you alright, m'Lord? Your face - it is smashed!"

"Ecksellent Grigori, and yesth, don't mind my fathe htoo much, but I will need medical attention. hOnce you have showed me to the Stave, please, find a healer.

"You stheem like a wealthy man Grigori; tell me, do you have maps of saef Bilbligh? Or doesth the information rethide only within your mind?"

Pitcarn continued his walk to the Stave's house with Grigori, very intersted in what the man knew.

"I have maps of safe Bilbligh, yes," said Grigori. "As should the Stave. Would you care to see them.. ?"

They reaches a large, yet squat, house, built of thick stone. It was the only house with gates, but they were unlocked.

"I can run for a healer, Lord, if you'd care to make your way in.. the Stave scares me a little," he said.

"hPLease Grigori, do fetsh the healer. Tell him to enter himmediatly."

Pitcarn stooped his shoulders a little before entering the hut, attempting, just a little, to hide his warrior nature

The man within was short and fat, wearing elaborate silks and wielding a silver stave. He was a priest, obviously, and his home was incredibly well furnished, especially for the standards of Bilbligh.

"Ah, Pitcarn, I assume," he said. "How are you doing? Good of you to see me."

"Chieftain, you do more than I assume; you know your God when you see him."

Pitcarn softened his rebuke. "But I an here, and to sthee you. I haf pressing buthiness to discuss, and I desire events to hmove quickly. You are the individual I require for assistance with this.

"Asth for how I ham doing, hwell, you can sthee my hjaw. An unfhortunate hevent, but han event non-theless. It occurred somewhere else, just as I was walking here. I won't hexplain the metaphysics hof it now, but thome attention on it would be gratifying. The ackee I met houtside has gone to hfetch a healer.

"I digress, and I haf little time, as I said. We hafn't the time for the basic pleasntries, we mutht be to business immediately.

"When I dithappeared so suddenly earlier, I traveled, and I saw, among other things, a realm struck by great calamity, but still at least twice as populace and productive as here. The thing that I most thought about was that all in my realm, under my dominion, are warrior folk, yet I have no approximation of out abilities, as the leader of this force. What are our weapons? What are our defences?

"I need my entire people to work in concert. I need to know the layout of my realm, the villages, the dark places, and where it all fits in relation to my temple.

"Farming must improve, and we need to be able to export what we have in abundance to others. I can begin this process soon, and If I am able I will provide raw materials, but it is rarely guaranteed. The realm needs to be able to continue what I have started, here.

"Succeed me in this and you personally, your descendants, as well as the village you and they lead, will be rewarded. I don't feel that this is a hard task I set you, so I assume that You will see it done. You have only to begin the process, not see it completed.

"Have you anything you wish of me? Answer my questions, and I will address any of yours."

"Lord," said the Stave, "I will answer your questions.

"First and foremost, while many of our men are more than capable of wielding a sword, our weapons are created primarily for support - rapiers, sabers, short knives and the like. We do not have an abundance of such things, either, as forge-work is found only in certain villages, and ours is not one of them. Our warriors are built not for war - there hasn't been a war in Bilbligh for many, many centuries - but for duels, and it would be difficult to train them for anything other than sport, though I know the talent and skill is there."

The Stave rolled a long map across his desk. Pitcarn saw that it was a map of Bilbligh. The Stave worked his Lord through it..

"Lord.. see where I am pointing? This is Gach, the village which I run," he pointed to a small mark in the center of the map. Pitcarn saw eight, nine similar marks in the center of the map, surrounded by a large ink circle, but to the north, south, east and west there were only vague glyphs which he did not know the meaning of. "This area in the center, where the large circular border rests? That is safe Bilbligh. Here, here and here.. are Amthbury, Riold and Vol. They are forge towns, Lord. With Gach rests Hosk, Urd and Jant. This is where most of the clergy rests, and where the largest farms are held - food often comes from these two. I am the High Priest of Gach itself, but even I must bow to the Lord Priest of the Grape in Hosk. These two villages on the border.." He pointed to two marks to the west. "Are the border-towns of Yurn and Gand. They have no farming capabilities at all, and exist simply to repel the hordes of the Witch-Woman of the Starved. They are the greatest fighting men we have.. and perhaps they alone are suited for war. We send them supplies and most of our weapons."

He grimaced. He pointed to the western sign.

"To the west exists the Witch-Woman of the Starved and her legion, within the Forests of the Starved. She threatens to destroy all of Bilbligh, and our greatest defense are the battle-towns of Yurn and Gand. Each of our cities are highly walled, too, as this adds an extra defense.. in the event Yurn and Gand fail."

He shuddered.

"To the east are the Sacred Lands of the M'naar. We do not travel there. To do so is to meet death by the vine-creature M'naar. We cannot defeat such a beast. Those in Jant," he pointed to the town closest to the east, "Worship the M'naar as an aspect of yourself, Lord. They sacrifice criminals to the beast when they can. But it rarely travels into safe Bilbligh, and when it does it is only to feed - it skulks off, always, not long after.

"To the north lies the Ruined Farmlands of Bilbligh, where we had many more villages, and even a city, once.. until the Witch-Woman of the Starved came and destroyed that, laid ruin to our crops, and drove us to the south. Harb, Oln, Reord.. those were only some of the towns lost to that battle.

"Finally, to the south is the River Gjoln. It is customary for the priesthood to experience pilgrimage, as far down the river as they can go, before they die. The mysteries of the river itself are unknown, but it is known throughout every village that it is a sacred place, and that commoners are not allowed to travel there."

He smiled.

"Does that help, my Lord?"

(Congratulations, Pitcarn. You have explored Bilbligh, and the subsequent boost in percentage has netted you an extra Degree; you now have two spare.)

"hGreatly it helpth me, Cheiftan of the Stave. I have so much more now that I may consthider.

"I have businessth elsethwhere to see to, and I hintend to see to it immediately. However, I hdo now have an order which I intend events to run here. I hdesire that you sthend messengers to Hosk, Urd and Jant, enssure that they know that I, Pitcarn, hdesire that they have a hnumber of members of their hpopulaces, however they chooze them, to hbegin zearching their areasth for hmetals and zuch. This is himportant, as I intend to move against these starvation Witches. I cannot abide such a blight on my lands."

This last sentence was so vehement that Pitcarn forgot for a moment his broken jaw.

"You will htell the leaders that this is an order from your lord: szearch for metal. Any metal. Dig it from the ground. You need not tell any other soul of the reason why this is happening. I do not want the witches forewarned.

"The people of dJant are not to trespassth on the landsth of the M'naar, but they are not to fear it, not until I return properly. I feel that I should meet with thisth part of my nature.

"I will wait now for the healer to come, then I will depart sthwiftly. There isth a battle that I must be a part of. The pity isth that I do not know whether it be wordsth or sthwordsth that will be the weapon of choice. "

Pitcarn sat down on the closest seat level object to hand, not too fussy what.

"Oh, and grab some glasthesth, or hgoblets, or bowlsth or sthomething. I hneed a hdrink."

"Yes, Lord. I will send messages to the temple-villages immediately.." The Stave smiled, filled a tall glass goblet with red wine. "If you'll excuse me, Lord.."

As he moved out a thin, nervous man dressed in the robes of a physician entered quietly.

"I, um, I am to see if I can mend your jaw, Lord," he said.

Draining the glass in one long swallow, Pitcarn turned to the physician.

"Pleashe, begin immediately. I hafve little time to washte."

The physician examined the broken jaw, prodding and measuring. He was quickly finished.

"It is broken," he said, sadly. "You should rest, my Lord, and let it heal naturally. I have herbs that may speed up the process, but there is nothing else I can do."