Where the Burneal Forest tapers in the west, down to the warm currents of the Dramij Ocean, the land is a mix of broken forest, heath, some little arable land and finally a wide coastal plain, marked by a heavy gravel soil. The ocean shore is not uniform. Long stretches of washed gravel beaches are broken by occasional ridges, bluffs and promontories. It is upon one such promontory that there rests a great fortification, situated equidistant from the imposing Land of Black Ice and the wooded fastness of the Burneal Forest. As the tales have it, this is Murlynd's Fortress.
The Personage of Murlynd is well known in the Annals of the Flanaess. More than mortal but not yet divine, Murlynd lives in both worlds, companion to men and gods. About him he carries an air of otherworldliness, not the least for the weapons he carries. His six-guns, firearms most puissant, are like nothing else seen on the face of Oerth. The secret of gunpowder belongs to Murlynd alone. Or so it is believed.
About the fortress, farmers of a nondescript sort go about the hard business of making the land give up sustenance sufficient to feed them and the inhabitants of the fortress. Were it not for the warm currents of the Dramij and good hunting in the fringes of the Burneal forest, their efforts would not suffice to insure survival in a harsh, desolate land. The occupants of the fortress accept the largesse of the yeomen but do not rule them. Neither do they assist them save by offering the protection of the fortress against the odd humanoid raid. But such protection is sure.
Monks in brown robes, often hiked up and belted to reveal boots, and avoid the mud, are the sole inhabitants of the fortress. What business they may be about remains mysterious, even to the local populace. It is only known for certain that these taciturn brethren, no women are to be seen, bear Murlynd's semblance for, like him, they carry gunpowder weapons. To be sure their arquebuses and harquebuses are not the equal of Murlynd's guns, but the resemblance is still astounding as nowhere else in the Flanaess can such weapons be found. It is for this reason that the fortress is named after Murlynd, though what name the inhabitants give it, none can be certain.
The brethren do not leave the immediate surrounds of the fortress, never passing from within sight of its walls as best can be told. If they venture further, it is in well kept secret. On occasion, a black sailed ship will appear from beyond the horizon of the Dramij, laying off the promontory. Small craft carry passengers to and fro, between fortress and vessel. If any cargo is carried in the longboats, it is of an unknown character. Such visits are infrequent.
It is believed that the inhabitants of the fortress are priests of Murlynd and the fortress either his greatest temple or his abode when he is on Oerth. What few provisions are needed by the fortress are obtained from the black sailed ships, so the theory goes. The priests keep Murlynd's service and need little available in the wider world. While not unfriendly, if brusque, the monks will neither confirm nor deny such speculations. Offering shelter, if grudgingly, to the wayward traveller or shipwreck, the monks put them up in an outbuilding, separate but attached to the main works. From these travellers spread the tales of Murlynd's Fortress.
Under no circumstances will the monks part with their firearms. Attempts to trade for or buy them are rebuffed. Persistence is rewarded with a clout to the head or a musket ball. Uninterested in worldly goods, the monks only prick up their ears if travellers have interesting tales to tell of the wider world or knowledge to impart. Having gained such, the brethren fall once more to near silence. No monks are known to have ever accompanied travellers when they depart the fortress. No traveller has ever reported an encounter with Murlynd while in residence. Ultimately, the Fortress of Murlynd remains a traveller's story of the far north. True? None can say with certainty. False? Perhaps.