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The Old World

Ruined city

Mousillon

The accursed City of the Damned, a plague-ridden Bretonnian ruin sunk in fog and mud, haunted by the undead and the vampire lords who claim it.

Astrography

Altdorf, Capital of the EmpireAthel Loren, the Enchanted ForestAverheimBarak VarrBechafen, City of the MarshesCouronne, City of the GrailErengradHag Graef, the Dark CragHexoatl, City of the SunItzaKarak Azul, the Hold of IronKarak Eight PeaksKarak KadrinKaraz-a-Karak, the EverpeakKislev, the City of the Ice QueenLothernLustria, the Jungle ContinentMarienburgMiddenheim, the City of the White WolfMousillonNaggarondNaggaroth, the Land of ChillNehekhara, the Land of the DeadNuln, City of Iron and PowderParravon, City of the PeaksPraag, the Scarred CitySkavenblightSylvania, the Cursed ProvinceTalabheimTor Elyr, City of the LagoonsUlthuan, Isle of the High ElvesWolfenburgWurtbad, City of StirlandYvresse, the Misty IsleZhufbar, the Torrent GateZlatlan, the Fallen Temple-City

Upon the fog-drowned marshes of the Bretonnian coast festers Mousillon, the City of the Damned, a name spoken in whispers and warding-signs across the realm of Bretonnia. Once a proud dukedom, it fell to a slow accumulation of curses, plagues, and treasons until its very name was struck from the rolls of honour. Now it is a rotting ruin of collapsed spires and flooded streets, wreathed in perpetual mist, where the sun seems never truly to rise.

The living who linger here are wretched things, brigands and heretics and the desperate poor who have nowhere lower to fall. But it is the dead who truly rule Mousillon. The city has long been a lair for the Vampire Counts and their kin, undying schemers who covet its ruin as a throne and raise its buried dead to swell their silent legions. Behind crumbling walls, black rites are worked, and the marsh gives up its drowned corpses to march again.

The knights of Bretonnia name Mousillon anathema, a stain upon their fair kingdom, and many a young errant has ridden into its fogs seeking glory only to be swallowed forever by the mud and the dark. The city endures as a festering wound that will not close, a warning of what becomes of honour lost and faith abandoned. In the Grail-kingdom of shining virtue, Mousillon is the rot beneath the gilding, the damned reflection every proud knight fears to meet.