Dungpit Village

New Map of Dungpit. Also, check out the surrounding territories. 

A once-thriving community, Dungpit was known for two things: mead, and livestock. Due to the excellent local climate, the fields surrounding the village were perfectly suited to growing grasses that cows and sheep thrived upon. Thus the region became renowned for the smell of livestock. The nickname "Dungpit" soon had replaced the original and official name for the place, which is now lost (some written records in Windvale or Ryde Hill might exist, but nobody who knew its name still lives). 

In order to combat the smell, locals imported dozens of species of blooming flowers. The flowers prettied up the countryside but did little to curb the odor. The unintended side effect, however, was that the fragrance of the flowers attracted bees, who in turn transformed the village's primary export of livestock into one of selling honey, but most importantly, mead. Dunpit Mead was well-known for being a quality liquor, not just in the Midlands,  but throughout the known world.

Three years ago, the region was hit by a terrible locust swarm. The fields that the livestock grazed upon were gone, and worse, so were all the flowering plants and bushes that attracted the bees. Without their income, not to mention the crops that fed the village, the populace was driven out and forced to abandon the village. They left only empty farms, rotting huts, and broken useless tools. They took their livestock and stores of honey and mead, land Dungpit. became a ghost town. Peculiarly, due to the corpses of livestock who starved, the terrible smell of the place only got worse.

Within the last year, life (and an itinerant population with it) has returned to the forsaken village, but it is not the place it once was, and may never fully recover.

Rat gate was named for the horrible infestation of rats that followed the plague. Mead Way is a throwback to the time when bees thrived in the region and brewers made the finest mead in the territory. Alas, the only bottles of Dungpit Mead are forgotten, collecting dust in distant cellars, if they exist at all.