This episode carries content warnings for human death, discussion of cannibalism, the death of animals.  The suns rise on Eastern Folly as another day begins. High in the trees, the fruit grows ever so slightly riper. And as the fruit grows larger and warmer in color, so too do the spirits of the people of the town. Miners haul back their finds with a grin, eager to flip this ironing board or that collection of ancient coins to whichever consignment shop or heartland broker makes the best deal. Main street shopkeeps give their customers an extra 5% off—a friends and family discount, they say, and ain’t we all friends and family here? Fishers wave to their families as their boats come in, blessed by afternoon light.  Except the light… the light is touched so, today. A shade of green, not yet sickly but pale and concerning.  And under the abbey, it moves. This week on Sangfielle: The Curse of Eastern Folly Pt. 2 The Alamanac of the Heartland Rider Peoples Caprak (cap-ROK): The goat folks of the northlands, where they put up with dust, ash, snow, and the unilateral “justice” of the Pale Magistratum. Carpana (car - pahn - a): They’re little folks, three to four feet tall or so. A little like capybara, I suppose.  Devils: Once, they were contained by (and made to administer) some vast network of hells. But they fought their way out, took over Aldomina, and nurtured a fledgling empire into an expansive one. Drakkan (drah-KAHN):  I’ve always thought we look like seahorses. Skin pulled across spiny, exo-skeletal armor. Bright colors. Good looking.  Heritrixes (hare-uh-trixes): Heritrixes are immaterial beings, sometimes confused for ghosts, demons, or other sorts of supernatural spirits, who enter into contracts with physical hosts. Human: A smooth-skinned, hornless type of person, mostly found in the Heartland and in the Unschola Republica these days. Unremarkable. “Except in variety,” you’ll often hear a human say, revealing only that they’re more prideful than wise. Ojantani: The Ojantani, who share traits with buffalo and water oxen, are as often melancholic or timorous as they are the loud, stereotypical minotaur sort. Places ALDOMINA (al-doh-mee-nah): What once stood as the name of the whole continent is now only the name of the Confederation that runs across the eastern half of the territory surrounding the Sangfielle, currently constituted by three sub-states called Cantons.  The First Canton, aka the Throne of Dominion: Once a fledgling human empire but nearly 1900 years ago, a minor duke of some great hell led an effort to take it over. And once they did, they pushed what was an already spreading empire even further in that direction.  The Second Canton, aka The Pale Magistratum (ma-juh-strah-tuhm): The Second Canton has ordered itself around its Magistrates—holy marshals given weapons blessed by Fulmina, goddess of immediate justice, and the right to use that power as they see it.  Unschola Republica, formerly the Third Canton (oon-skoh-la): For a millenia, the alchemists, mage-practitioners, and cryptotheological scholars of the Third Canton complained in secret about the leash kept on them by Aldomina’s distant leaders. They’ve since slipped that leash, and whether that’s for better or worse, time will tell. Free Seas of Kay’va, formerly the Fourth Canton (kai-vah): First established after Cecile Cartine’s revolution over 300 years ago, today Kay’va is home to a collection of aligned communes who swear that the only way to prosperity is through the defense of equality. The Fifth Canton, the Protectorate Kingdom of Ojantan (oh-JAHN-tahn): Ojantan was once a kingdom to rival Aldomina, and a solid place to live to boot, if a little over-structured for my taste. But the Devils got to the nation’s leaders, and now it’s been reduced to another Canton in the Empress’ collection. Sangfielle, the Heartland: Once, it was a breadbasket for the whole Dominion, now this is territory haunted twice: first by a bloody, buried past, and s