Selenbell (Pronounced: sell-en-bell)

Location: Somewhat inland from the southwestern coast of Valanthus, making it a hop, skip, and a jump away.

Description: The large farmstead of Selenbell resides in a fairly secluded area near the southwestern coast of Valanthus. Houses pockmark the cobblestone streets, with only a few places of business here and there. In the middle of the town stands a large tower in a vaguely spiraled build, littered with arrow-slits and windows with rather mundane shutters, which remain closed, for the most part. A large storehouse rests at the base of the tower, built into the side with its magically locked door only four feet from the door of the tower, with both entrances facing each other. The tower, and storehouse are both constructed for the personal use of a man by the name of Eth'Inaldor, his wealth being the sole cause of any prosperity of this township. Crops lay scattered about the town, ranging from the necessities of vegetables and fruit, to the recreational pipeweed, which is grown only for Eth'Inaldor, and the Gods protect a man stupid enough to try and partake of this crop. Closer to the nearby coast stands two more towers, much less interesting than the one in the center of Selenbell, acting both as guard posts and a deterrent to the villagers, should they try to make an unauthorized trip to the docks. With the placement of this village, there's a clear shot from Valanthus to Andriath, used only for shipping purposes, unless Eth'Inaldor wishes to travel. Which is a rare enough occurrence.

Government: A laughable concept, really. The sole form of government for Selenbell is Eth'Inaldor. He declares the law, and he is the highest form of power. Well... the only form of power, as none of the villagers dare rise against him.

History: Selenbell was raised from nothing more than a grassy knoll, by an elf coming into his own in terms of wealth and personal power. For many years, as the township grew and the crops flourished, the man, Eth'Inaldor, promised much gold and comfortable lives for the villagers, but actually gave very little. In time, the villagers grew to fear this man and his fabled power, everyone working together to appease the will of their lord with as little injury as possible. This fear grew from threats of great magical feat, and injury to be carried out by the guards in Eth'Inaldor's service (which happens to be the entire militia). These threats of magic were made real when a man was slain by his own hand in the middle of town, becoming a victim of psychic magery.

Culture: Those people who are directly indebted to service of Eth'Inaldor, the serfs, make their living in a few small houses near the base of the central tower, to lessen the time it would take for them to serve their lord. As such, many families live in each house, and the same could be said for the rest of the village. Building houses costs money, money that Eth'Inaldor rarely spends for the betterment of Selenbell's people. Even the farmers share their personal quarters with others of the same walks of life. Those who make their lives through guard work dwell wherever they can find room to eat and sleep. With the size of the township, the amount of people, and their shared fear of Eth'Inaldor, the entire population acts as one family unit, and each person treats everyone else accordingly.

Population: Close to a figure of one thousand, give or take about ten. People are born and people die, you know, with the latter being more common, as Eth'Inaldor is not a man to cross.

Empire: Selenbell, and Eth'Inaldor, hold no allegiances to any empire of Fou Lu.

Military: The militaristic power of Selenbell isn't anything remotely close to an army or anything else as powerful. More like a mercenary band serving in fear of their leader. The pay is horrible, but it's better than milking cows and tending fields. Each soldier acts as a guard, wearing mix-matched and patchy armor (a shoulder plate here, a pair of mail boots there... not nearly enough to constitute great protection but enough to get themselves by with). Weapons are found in the same way with each guard, some carrying nothing more than kitchen-worthy knives. The lucky ones got the swords, axes, and the like. Eth'Inaldor refused to shell out the gold for proper equipment, declaring that it would cost him far more than he was willing to pay, so his guards had to make due. Each guardsman wears the insignia of a golden jewel with one corner shining.