Mousillon

The Dukedom of Mousillon was a former founding Dukedom that once had territories stretching along the western shores of Bretonnia. Ever since its fall, Mousillon is a cursed, impoverished land that is plagued by constant misfortunes, disease and drawing the attention of dark powers. Having since lost its status as a proper Dukedom, the lands of Mousillon is the smallest out of all the twelve realms, even though it once held the title as being the most beautiful and fairest land of them all.

Ever since the death of the previous Duke, what remains of Mousillon is a backwater region filled with marshes, bogs and swamps. Mousillon used to be a beautiful dukedom however now the villages look poor and rundown, more so than typical Bretonnian villages. The peasant hovels are on the verge of collapsing, streets are little more than sewers, and there are as many dead animals to be seen as living ones. The inhabitants watch any visitors silently from their homes, cowering within and giving only occasional glimpses of their malformed bodies.

Mousillon is the smallest, poorest, and most cursed of the dukedoms of Bretonnia. Much of its land was taken by Lyonesse, after the corruption of Duke Merovech was revealed. The Duke of Mousillon slew the King Hereupon and drank his blood before the assembled nobles. The remaining land falls into two areas. In the west, the coastal areas are dominated by swamp with isolated areas of higher and firmer ground. In the north and east there are rugged hills and the edges of the Forest of Arden. The whole of Mousillon is plagued by extreme weather. When the air is still, thick fogs gather. If there is wind, it is always strong and almost always accompanied by rain or hail. Thunderstorms are common, as are fires started by lightning strikes. Fortunately, these fires do not spread very far.

The hills are rocky and treacherous, and most vegetation consists of scrubby thorn bushes. The Mousillon Rose also grows in the hills. This bush has luxuriant evergreen leaves and vivid purple flowers that bloom most of the year. It looks out of place in the hills, but it fits right in. The stems are coated with vicious, barbed thorns, and the pollen is a deadly poison. What is more, it grows where a human corpse has been left to rot. The sites of old battles turn into thickets of the deadly plant. Mousillon's swamps are even more treacherous. The firm ground of a trail often sinks an inch or so beneath the level of the water. This poses no problem for those in stout boots or on horseback, apart from the existence of sucking mud and quicksand under the same water a yard or so to either side. To make matters worse, Swamp Mat creates false trails.