Rise of Nations
Named for the Brevic engineer who built it, Nettle’s Crossing as it stands today is a soggy, abandoned remnant, shunned by trappers and bandits alike as haunted. A thick, sagging rope still hangs across the water, all that remains of the bridge that once spanned it. A signpost at either end of the ruined bridge reads “Nettle’s Crossing— 5 coppers— ring bell for service.” A rusty bell hangs by each sign, the metal tarnished and pitted. On the south bank of the river, the crumbled remains of a burnt-down wooden building are slowly being overgrown by encroaching vegetation. The Shrike River runs just over 300 feet wide at this point, deep and swift flowing; a few hundred downstream, one can make out the rubble of old bridge remnants, caught on some sharp stones. It is eerily quiet and still here, without the usual noise and activity of insects or bird calls, and the air seems thick with menace.