Pineford

A Capital by the Lake

At the northern tip of Lake Altun, beside the Zerdun Forest and encircled by timber walls, stands the city of Pineford. At its very heart rises the Mihver Pine—not just a tree, but the sacred guardian of these people. Through centuries of passing storms, its roots have never dried, nor has its trunk ever bowed. The streets often carry the scent of resin and fresh timber; mornings begin with lake mist, evenings settle with the echo of ritual bells.

Life in Mihver Pine’s Shadow

Every path in Pineford passes by the Mihver Pine. Weddings, vows, reconciliations—all take place beneath its branches. Its resin is used in trade and in healing. When storm season passes, chosen master smiths and priests together inspect the iron-copper bands wrapped around the Mihver Pine. Every few years, worn rings are replaced or repaired with care. This is not just a safeguard against lightning—it is a custom as old as the city itself, and the renewal is marked by a special rite and festival called the Circle of the Rings.

Homes, Forest, and Daily Work

Pineford’s houses are built from thick-trunked local pines; their heavy roofs and deep eaves offer shade. Narrow streets lead to small squares, most of which open onto the main market. By the lake, fishermen cast their nets, craftsmen boil resin, and wardens take up the night watch. There are few signs in the forest; one finds the way by carved stones or by the stories of passing travelers. Each spring, old boundary stones at the city’s edge are cleaned and their markings renewed by the townsfolk.

Governance and People

The city is the capital of the kingdom that shares its name. King Ervahan is an old, deliberate ruler—never hasty, always weighing his words. He is counseled by three trusted advisors: the scribe Larethiel, the warden Elyne, and Varanor, who understands the work of resin and trees. While most of the population is human, elven artisans and wanderers have long left their mark here.

Traditions and the Spirit of the City

The liveliest days of Pineford come with the spring. Lantern walks around the Mihver Pine at night bring a quiet joy to young and old alike. With the month of Açaray, the Pine Festival begins: masters show their resin, youths test their bows, and children practice patience. Anyone entering the forest follows an elven custom—whispering their name to a small pebble and leaving it at the roots.

Here, people are patient, level-headed, and loyal to their companions. There is no rush or boastfulness; life moves at its own pace, by the lakeside or in the forest’s shade.

Pineford’s Troubles and Hopes

In recent years, a few storms have bent the lower bands of the Mihver Pine; a new copper ring is being prepared. In the forest, the writing on some old stones has faded, and a few markers have gone missing. Odd echoes from the lake sometimes keep the elders awake. Yet the city stands strong: neither the pine that gives its shade nor the patient people who live here have ever turned from their roots.