Russel Hall could have been a sweet place, had it not been occupied by a reckless and constantly shifting population of children. Originally it was a family manor, built nearly 300 years ago for a shipping magnate. The family used it as a summer home to escape from the bustle of city life and obligations. Tragically, the children and wife all went down in the wreck of The Relentless when it struck a shoal during a maritime demonstration. Tiebalt Russel, the sole remaining bearer of the name and fortune, turned his grief towards charity. Upon his death the estate was turned over to a trust formed to take in youth from across the Holy Empire.

The trust has kept Tiebalt’s exact wishes and admissions criteria closely guarded, citing a worry about rich families gaming the system. Its current administrator, one Mr. Edmund Rancourt, continues this tradition. The residents come from all walks of life. Some are orphans of circumstance, others cast-offs and black-sheep, a few enrolled as if it were a normal boarding school. All must be of proper age, however—Russel House only accepts children from 10–18 years old.

The grounds are comprised of many green acres in a lee of hills in northern Yornia¹. To the north, a few patches of farmland lead to cliffs overlooking the ocean. To the east, a high stone wall lines the old road, keeping out onlookers. The trade road winds its way down into the lowlands over a few hours of travel before meeting a ferry to cross the wide churn of the river Rogenden. The nearest city is across this ferry, the port of Ogleighrel. To the south, the sloped rise of hills turn sharp and craggy. Finally, to the west… a deep gloom of forest defended by briars that the older children swear grow (and groan) and move overnight. Russel House maintains a small path into these woods leading to a pleasant—though somewhat boggy—pair of lakes for summer swims and naturalism class visits.

The Grounds

Russel Hall technically occupies a many acre long strip of land between the forest and the old road, while its core campus is a small collection of buildings grouped close together. These sit on a tidily graded low hill, with a decent view of its surroundings.

Russel Hall Proper

The principle—and largest—building on the grounds was once the Russel family home. It was built without any spared expense, and has endured the years since its namesake’s death well. Locally quarried stone blocks make up the foundation and first four floors, with an extra two wood framed levels added on in the early years as a boarding school. Sometime later another wooden extension was built on the southern end, expanding 3 of its floors.

Fiona’s Pond

Named for Tiebalt’s eldest daughter, the pond at the northeastern corner of the campus lies in the shadow of the oak. It is small and silty, but has a single short pier from which students frequently dip their feet in summers. Some classes use it as an introduction to ecology.

Notably, one student drowned in the pond within “recent memory” (the lifetime of rumors among the students): Mirabelle. The details of her death—besides its location—change with each retelling.

The Oak

A huge majestic oak tree, brutally tipped in some past windstorm. It shades almost the entire northeast corner of the campus, including Fiona’s pond, the gardens, and most of the carriage house. Its branches are occupied by an unkindness of ravens, who get quite defensive of areas near the tree’s trunk. An unusually verdant garden has sprung up from around the roots where they were pulled up by the storm. It now provides some of Russel Hall’s food, and serves as an outdoor classroom.

The Carriage House

Once an opulent storage building for the Russels' 4 carriages, this north-side building now only holds 1. The others have all been sold off over the years to shore up the endowment. The empty garages were converted into living spaces for the teachers and a workshop for students.

The Groundskeeper’s Cottage

The cottage sits below the grade of the main campus, close to the edge of the forest. It is a squat but wide single story building; old stone walls almost invisible behind years of moss and grass buildup. It is easy to miss unless looking for it, though the forest path runs only tens of feet away.

The Burnt Building

The remnants of a heavily fire damaged building lie on the campus' south western side. The story of the fire is not known to the student body.

Cranog Lodge

This three story building is the second largest of the campus, and once housed the estate’s staff. It occupies much of the southern edge of the campus, and is currency used as a mix of classroom space and staff living space.

The Forest

The children of Russel Hall dis-affectionately refer to the forest as the Doggerwood, though the exact origins of the name are lost to time. It follows a deep valley north/south, overgrown up its walls and spilling out across the surrounding countryside. Its eastern extent, (west of Russel Hall) is particularly overgrown, with a thick carpet of thorny shrubs filling most of the area between its old tall trees. The Doggerwood is quite dark and foreboding, leading the children to imagine all sorts of tales about its presumed denizens.

On a practical level, the forest is effectively impassible. Countless small inroads exist, but they quickly lead to dead ends or mazes amongst the thickets. Locals consider it faster to travel around, generally north by sea. South, one may hike around the worst of it by crossing through Grampol mountain range, in particular a traverse across Ben Alon and Ben Knave.

One meaningful path leads into the forest from Russel Hall. It bends slowly north, then forks at roughly a half mile inward. Continuing along the main section of path results in another mile and change to The Twins, a pair of lakes visited for field trips. The other side of the fork is blocked by a wooden sign partially obscured by added carvings:

the lads was here - tad, george, mark

GROUNDS S​CREW ONLY?

No, student admittance!

Anne xoxo Chris

The Bluffs

North of the Russel Hall plot, a few sparse farms attempt to eke a living out of the windswept fields. Just beyond, the land ends abruptly at the edge of the ocean in a series of bluffs. A few treacherous paths down exist, but most folks aiming to reach the beaches prefer to take the long way around via the old road.