The largest orc state in the Wildwood, controlling the southern forest from Vogenfeld's mountain passes to the Yugurbas Dyos marshes. When outsiders speak of "the orc threat," they usually mean Hedroscobb.
Geography
Hedroscobb occupies the southern third of the Wildwood—roughly 150 miles north to south and 100 miles east to west of dense temperate forest. The terrain is rugged: steep ravines, hidden valleys, ironwood groves, and rocky outcroppings where the Hedroscobbi have established their forge-complexes.
The Ironwood Groves: Ancient stands of iron-hard trees that provide fuel for the forges and material for weapon handles. The groves are considered sacred to the Hedroscobbi—their wood burns hot enough to work algae-iron properly.
The Slag Halls: Underground forge complexes beneath the central forest. The great forges never cool. Smoke rises through hidden vents throughout the territory.
The Acid Gate: The fortified southern approach, overlooking the passes to Vogenfeld. The dwarves watch from one side; the Hedroscobbi watch from the other.
Borders
- South: Vogenfeld (the dwarven shield-state)
- North: Glivornax (hostile; the War of the Marshes over Yugurbas Dyos)
- Northeast: Tarn (neutral)
- East: Shazuihn (hostile; constant raiding)
- West: Plains of Oblivion (no one goes there)
Climate
Continental temperate—cold winters with heavy snow, warm summers with occasional flooding in the lowlands. The underground forge-complexes maintain comfortable temperatures year-round.
Why It Matters
Hedroscobb controls the passes between the Wildwood and Tarkhon. If the orcs ever decided to invade the empire, they would come through Hedroscobb. The Vogenfeld dwarves exist specifically to prevent this.
The Hedroscobbi's algae-iron armor makes them the most formidable conventional military force in the Wildwood. Their weakness is their dependence on swamp algae—which is why the War of the Marshes never ends.
The view of Tarkhon
The Hedroscobbi do not fear Tarkhon, and they do not respect it. To the smiths of the Slag Halls, the empire across the passes is a soft, scheming thing that has never once won a fight it could not buy its way out of. Tarkhon grew by treaty and coin, swallowing its neighbors with trade terms instead of armies, and to an orc who works a metal only acid can touch, that is not strength. It is the opposite of strength. The forge-clans have a name for the empire that translates as something close to the wheedler, and it is not said with affection.
The contempt does not rise to hatred. Hatred would mean taking Tarkhon seriously. The Hedroscobbi simply note that a fat, rich neighbor sits one mountain range to the south, that only the Vogenfeld dwarves stand in the gap, and that walls come down eventually. They are in no hurry. Should the dwarves ever abandon the heights, the orcs will come through the passes and take what the empire could not be bothered to hold itself. Until then they wait, and they sharpen, and they fight each other. There is no crusade in this, no prophecy, no sacred grievance. Only patience, and a door that has not yet opened.
They will not fight us. They pay the dwarves to fight us, and pay the dwarves to die, and then they call us animals. Let the wall fall one winter and we will see who the animals were. — a smith-captain of the Acid Gate
The loathing runs both ways, and both sides are at peace with it. Tarkhon names the orcs vermin, a thing to be walled out rather than spoken with, and counts the killing of them no crime worth the name. The Hedroscobbi return the verdict exactly and feel wholly justified in it. A people who fight with bribes and clerks, who hire dwarves to die in their place, are not people at all by any reckoning that holds weight in the Wildwood. Neither side has ever found a reason to revise the judgment.