Minor House Spotlight: House Brimmouth

Brimmouth Bridge stood ahead of the group like a monster snarling and spitting, the unwelcoming air assaulted the nostrils with the smell of death and the spices trying to disguise it. The walls were high and well patrolled, the stained cloaks of their guards hung desperately to the memory of when they were once a shade of blue or white - though their memory was failing.

House Brimmouth are a minor house of Southshire, positioned along the central road through the forested hills of the southern county. Resting in the shadow of the hilltop castle of Stormberg, Brimmouth Bridge is known for being one of the most crime-ridden and ill-managed noble lands in Cornay - largely due to a combination of the lack of funding by its nobility in House Brimmouth and the lack of enforcement historically by their Liege Lords in House Warren.

House Brimmouth's words are, quite ironically, "Pride in Ourselves". Their heraldry depicts a golden winged horse on a field of half-white, half-blue. Despite the initially quite regal and impressive image that House Brimmouth paints for itself, its lands and its people are far from what first comes to mind when one sees its symbols. The Bridge Town is known as a hive for outlaws and murderers, cut-throats and alleycats, all living along the tightly bound slums that make up Brimmouth's lands. It is commonplace amongst the nobility to assume all who come from Brimmouth Bridge to be criminal in nature and, although criminality does not reflect morality, it is best assumed that almost every lowborn individual there has had to steal, lie and perhaps even kill their way to survival.

The Noble House that occupies Brimmouth Bridge is run by Lord Mace Brimmouth, an ageing man many consider too frail to run the powder keg of a settlement he has dominion over. House Brimmouth, in truth, is actually led by the two twin sons of Lord Mace, Lord Piers and Lord Hans, who regularly bicker and argue. The two lords, each favouring a different colour of their house's garish heraldry, find themselves at odds at almost every decision - whether because they truly disagree or simply because they refuse to be caught on the same side of an issue remains to be seen. This split in leadership has led to several gangland-style skirmishes across the streets of Brimmouth Bridge, with the two gangs - known as The Whites and The Blues - often engaging in bloody brawls in taverns or extorting businesses to take their violent clashes elsewhere. Whilst Lord Mace often tries to quench the fires of hatred between his twin sons, his timid nature and his sickly body prevent him from leaving his chambers at the best of times and at worst leaves him bedbound.

The most infamous incident between the rivalling gangs would go on to inspire the song "Red on The Barrel", which is based on a violent brawl that ended with the maiming of Lord Hans - leader of The Whites - by his brother Piers. The song recounts the story of a brawl breaking out over stolen barrels of Oldreach White Wine that were intended for Lord Hans' birthday celebration. The song recounts how Lord Piers had the wine stolen so it could be sold up the river and how Lord Hans led a force to fight his brother along the Bridge's scaffold docks. Lord Piers would overpower his brother and slice his face, splitting the lord's cheek with a dagger in a jagged, diagonal scar from the mouth to the cheekbone. The song is popular amongst the rowdy inns and back alleys of Brimmouth Bridge and beyond, though singing it in Lord Hans' territory is a one-way ticket to a lashing.

"Well Come Down and see,

For there's no place to be,

as lively as the dirty old town,

Where there's drink aplenty,

An ne'er a sentry,

with a truncheon or wicked old frown,

It be a wondrous place,

If you don't mind the face,

of a scarred and ragged old man,

because white it may be,

But bloodied is he,

the Red on The Barrel belongs to old Hans Well, shipped in today,

and then stolen away,

was the finest of Oldreach Wine,

As white as snow,

And we all swear we don't know,

that it was blues who did the crime

It be a wondrous place,

If you don't mind the face,

of a scarred and ragged old man,

because white it may be,

But bloodied is he,

the Red on The Barrel belongs to old Hans

Well drink up fast,

and don't be caught last,

as you walk home through the night,

because Hans' boys are about,

in search of the wine, no doubt,

So let's give em a jolly good fight

It be a wondrous place,

If you don't mind the face,

of a scarred and ragged old man,

because white it may be,

But bloodied is he,

the Red on The Barrel belongs to old Hans

A dagger drawn here,

On his brotherly peer,

Lord Piers did his flesh defile,

Over the white wine case,

was Old Hans' white face,

Given a brand new red smile

It be a wondrous place,

If you don't mind the face,

of a scarred and ragged old man,

because white it may be,

But bloodied is he,

the Red on The Barrel belongs to old Hans

The Red on the Barrel belongs to old Hans"