Notable Persons:
Garrot De Mewse


Guardhouse x1
General Craftwork x1 (The Pickler’s Crook)
Tailors x1 (Gweneth & Willy’s)
Cobblers x1 (Shuson’s Shoes)
Inns x1 (The Red Trout)
Taverns x1 (Gorrot’s Blood)
Blacksmiths x1

5 ‘Guards’ & 1 Guard Captain

The Legend of Garrot De Mewse:
Troutlake used to be named in a fashion similar to that of its sister towns – however, that name is long since gone. Back in the time when Kahrad was under the rule of the Du’Manets, the-town-that-was-soon-to-be-Troutlake was foisted off on a fat and rather useless noble named Garrot de Mewse. De Mewse was the manifestation of a stereotype: lazy, ill-mannered, cowardly, ignorant, and a slave to opulence. He had been raised deep in the heartland of Rethaloth, and as such, had never lain his pig-like squint upon the sea. When he arrived at Troutlake, he refused to believe that what lay before him was anything but a vast lake, which the mists (heavy in those parts) obscured the edges of. As the town’s export was Halibut, which he swore was Trout – he named the town Troutlake to spite his new subjects. After many a year slowly drowning himself in wine, cup-by-cup, he was approached by the village elders, who demanded that he change back the name, and relinquish his claim upon village. His pride having kept him stubborn, he refused – and striding past the almost unrecognisably flattering statue of himself that leered in the market square – he made a bet with an Elder named Dan Dansforth. You see, pleasures of the flesh were scarce in Troutlake, and those desperate woman he had sampled had oft turned out to be toothless or hairless or men or hags; and so, he wagered the control of the town in exchange for the Elder’s daughter’s hand in marriage. And what did he wager it upon? Upon the fact that the body of water, was in fact, a lake. He claimed – in between coughing up blood and swiging from his bottle – that he would cross to the other side, grasp a handful of grass (little grew in the village), and return triumphant. Once they had built a boat which could support his immense girth, he sailed out, fright quickly replacing anger. As he saw the fog draw its veil over the land, he panicked, and his panic, overturned the boat. The villagers stood, watching him drown. It was a quick spectacle, but one without comparison for the vindictive folk of Troutlake. They kept the name as a badge of honour, a reminder of their cruelty, and their unchanged ways of life. To this day, the method of execution in the village is the same: give the criminal a boat, set them on a course, and watch the madness of the mist and sea take them. If you ever find yourself sailing near Troutlake, and see a figure, rising through the mist, you will have found Garret’s Stone – the statue which so crudely mocked the villagers. It now stands upon the shallows, a mockery of itself. A hollow vengeance and reciprocally vindictive spirit luring all who pass by to their own madness and fear. Should you approach that statue, you will lose yourself in the endless mist, and surely perish.


Beyond the Walls of Avalon Asgarthian