| Yersha-Noir |
| The isle of Yersha-Noir exists within unfavorable waters ever sailed by men. From one fiercely wrought shore to another, no more than a hundred acres of it is worth the growing of crops. But within the heart of such a callused land are veins of coil and caverns of sought-after stones, if one looked hard enough. Only one portion of the whole island grants ships purchase to its rocky embrace. Several buildings, including a seedy tavern, butcher, blacksmith, and tanner. Most of those that live within these reaches are hardy people, with feral smiles and cold hearts; made so by the smarting environment and weather the land brings them. But despite the small population of outcasts, islanders, and seamen a few clergy live within the abbey. What good land there was to be found on Yersha-Noir was claimed by the Bryfogle family centuries ago. Sparse fertile soil contained them to a gentle fifty acres. Though, over the years, most of the family relocated to kinder areas of the world to leave the aging Lord Frederick, and wife and daughter, to care for Yersha-Noir. The home in Yersha-Noir stands two stories with eight rooms besides the great hall, kitchen, music chambers and other small rooms tucked into various places throughout. Outbuildings and stable, plus a fair-sized greenhouse dot the imediate grounds. At present, Lord Nigel Bryfogle, cousin to the late Lord Frederick, lives off-island at Carraige Hill. Lady Wilhelmina died when she was in her late twenties. Milady Bryfogle, daughter to both Frederick and Wilhelmina, fled with her handmaiden by ship to Carraige Hill when Mavren Crane invaded Yersha-Noir with his garrison to claim the Bryfogle holdings for himself by fragile claim of family connection. By marraige and blood weaker in water, with the weight of coin and title to twist the arms of lawmakers, Crane holds onto the estate to use as he sees fit. His men, and women, litter the house and land.. offering much for the townsfolk in the bitter hamlet to waft about in gossip. |