The desolate moors, fog-shrouded forests and quiet settlements of Mordent have always known a somewhat sleepy pace of life. The tribulations of other domains merely far off lands with far off problems, but trouble in the demi-plane always has a habit of seeking even the most vigilant of people.
During the years that witnessed the rise of renewed Falkovnian aggression, Mordent has been vocal in its alarm at the alacrity many elements within the nations of the Four Towers showed in profiting from the rippling strife Falkovnia's wars have caused. These sentiments were only bolstered by the almost hostage-like demands Falkovnia enacted on nations such as Borca, who had suffered a terrible drought, and the willingness of its neighbors to bend to Falkovnian will. The question was asked "Who will be next?" and the presence of the usurper Maximillian Falke-Drakov has done little to persuade the Mordentish that anything good would come out of the Falkovnian Civil War.
Seeing itself as alone within a divided alliance, Mordent formally withdrew from the mutual defence pact and began raising its own volunteer force of trained bands. This act; along with the manufacture of a brand new class of ships, the far-ranging gun barques, eventually led to the capitulation of the Four Towers pact agreement and accusations aimed at Mordent of its own provocation on the high seas. These fast warships have been sighted deep within the Sea of Sorrows, often battling the machinations of Blaustein pirates and Dementlieuse privateers attempting to sack vessels headed to and from the Lament mist way. Such combat has led to formal complaints from Dementlieuse merchant concerns stating their private employees are being mislabelled and targeted by what can only be a Mordentish attempt at trade-domination in the western sea. These accusations are naturally refuted by the Mordentish who state: there will never be quarter given to plunderers, no matter who pays them.
Despite these newly formed troops from the towns, villages and hamlets of Mordent, their numbers barely even touch those of forces abroad. Many concerned citizens and noble alike have begun to ponder openly of the ability to resist what they see is the inevitable encroachment of foreign powers on their mist-shrouded soil. Such thoughts are often countered as being little more than scaremongering by those more stubborn in mindset but nonetheless, the fledgling bands have gained widespread support and several successes in maintaining peace within their borders.
Curious to note, a fair number of the recently uprooted Verbrekians have been seen serving alongside these newly formed bands as trackers and rangers, often carrying news far and wide between Mordent's more isolated homesteads. While their larger numbers keep to wooden-palisade settlements on the Mordentish borderlands, more and more are seen in Blackburn's Crossing. This has caused some small resentment towards the Verbrekian refugees with not so subtle insults hurled their way as burdens on good, hard-working Mordentish folk and the evils they will inevitably bring following them from their wooded homelands. Frictions with the Verbrekians are increased with their refusal to recognise Mordentish laws, keeping their own internal justice short and swift within their hodgepodge communities.
Such worries of politics and invasions though are, for the most part, a distant future concern for a people constantly reminded of the past and it is long dead entities that have been causing the most concern for the dour folk of Mordent. Over time, there has been a marked and steady increase in supernatural encounters and a mist-borne anomaly dubbed the 'gloom tide' that sweeps in periodically, bringing with it the dangers that travelling in the mist incurs. It has been noted only recently that a red light has begun to shine like a beacon at the House on Gryphon Hill. The sight of this precedes the gloom tide covering the landscape and it is the belief whatever foul thing had tainted the accursed manor permanently has come to roost once more. This belief seems strengthened by the presence of horrors untold gathering in the grounds of the manor at night, with few brave enough to venture closer to discern the nature of what is occurring there.
While the Mordentish attitude of 'business as usual' and 'visit no evil and it shall not visit me' is comfort to some, there has been many a person seen attending the chapel of the Pure Hearts when previously they seldom did. The mood in Mordentshire has become palpable, like that of a collectively held breath waiting for a storm that is just over the horizon to break. With the sight of renewed activity around the House on Gryphon Hill and the sad news of Lord Jules Weathermay at repose on his deathbed, a path of uncertainty and the unknown lies before the land of Mordent.