The small village of Jent is a wild place. Nestled in the shadow of Droskar’s Crag, the people of Jent are hearty and stern. Theirs is a life of hardships, broken only occasionally by a handful of festivals and the infrequent merchant caravan. They face constant adversity from both the wilderness and the wiles of man. Wolves nip at their heels and cutpurses ply at their pockets. It is a testament to their strength that they even manage to survive at all.
Perched at the edge of civilized lands, the small town of Jent has always had to rely on itself to solve its problems. Meanwhile, the uncaring lumber barons squeeze the common folk for every last copper, deaf to their pleas. A rough community wholly owned by the local Lumber and Mining Consortium, Jent rests on the edge of Menari Forest, a blunt, sawdust-choked stop on a winding trade route. Home to fewer than 1,500 humans and a smattering of other races, most of the townsfolk care only for the paltry coins paid for their backbreaking work and what simple comforts they can buy. A few, however, understand that what’s bad for one is bad for all, and so the community thrives on a tenacious mix of greed, debauchery, and stubborn self-reliance.