Verit - Abwards and Ambound

On the branch of Verit that stretches towards the Gate to Abnegation - “Abwards” of Crossing – the Farmshare separates the unmarked border of Crossing territory from the Path to Charity, a dirt road to the Gate to Abnegation that begins in fact as a great many roads that come together along the distance of the limb. A smattering of townships aggregate into a small collection of allied cities, which give way as the continent progresses to Sacrifice.
The Farmshare, originally an entirely halfling community on the edge of the pastures, is a series of small farming villages stretching across the breadth of the continent's Abwards limb. Although they appear to have no government of any kind, they all seem to be under the general impression that someone is arranging things, and they never seem to have difficulty with the logistics of sharing the crops between neighbouring villages. Notably, any time envoys of Crossing or any other settlement have arrived to discuss the acquisition of land, a smiling representative of the Farmshare has directed them to a house a few villages away, where they are told that no, in fact, the resident is not the person to talk to, try the gentleman a few villages along. Very rarely, parties sick of this wild good chase have attempted to simply take the land by force, and then found out the many uses to which farming tools can be put, with a little ingenuity. Though originally a halfling settlement, this was a matter of fact rather than policy, and elves and humans, as well as the odd dwarf and orc, can be found tending the communal fields.
Just beyond the Farmshare, on the Stateward coast, is the city of Saint Aberthwaite. Founded to provide relief to those travelling towards Abnegation purely for healing, many of the city's permanent residents are clerics, doctors, alchemists, and other healers. Far from an idyll, its slums – home to those still awaiting treatment, those who could not afford to make the trip home, and those reliant on charity – are legendary. Entities looking to prey on the poor and the sick, both monsters and people, dominate the entire attention of the city's devoted protection service, the Ordo Clara. As a peculiarity both of geography and the mentality of its visitors, no branch of the Path to Charity runs through Saint Aberthwaite.
The largest city on the Abwards branch is Modesty, positioned nestled against a mesa and walled on its open side. It is governed in tandem by an elected Prime Minister and a Monarch chosen by the enchanted crown, which glows from its ruby when put on the head of the next worthy king or queen. Entrance into the city is strictly regulated – special dispensation is required to carry weapons inside its walls, and trusted citizens must vouch for anyone hoping to own land or start a business in the city. The city is a haven for the peaceful and the trustworthy, but people with violent or suspicious pasts have difficulty making a life there. Outside its walls, the Path to Charity breaks into two, and volunteers from the city keep both paths maintained to the point where they reunite on the other side of the mesa.
Far beyond the more populous areas of the limb, where the disparate branches of the Path to Charity begin to come together, is the area referred to as Sacrifice. This is a vast collection of shrines, churches, and temples to service pilgrims seeking food, a bed, and perhaps a bit of their particular brand of salvation before they continue on their way. There are no other buildings the rest of the way to the Gate, and there is only one inn on the very border of the area - “The Last Chance”, referring to the fact it is a pilgrim's last chance to pay for a soft bed and a hearty meal before they start getting hard beds and humble meals for free. Its steak pie and it's home brew, dubbed “Ambrosia”, are said to be the cause of more pilgrims giving up their journey than all the other pleasures of the flesh combined, but this is almost definitely just marketing.

Down the branch of Verit that stretches towards the Gate to Ambition - “Ambound” of Crossing – the border with Crossing territory presses – almost – against the border of the Seven Baronies. Beyond the Baronies is the Unruled Pass, border to Independence.
The Seven Baronies are a collection of territories arranged along the breadth of the branch. Knowledge of the details of their founding is lost to time, but their territory is drawn such that all of them have borders on the Abwards end of the branch. Though they deal with Crossing, individually they are known to be fickle and intimidating to politicians and traders alike – military attack is certainly out of the question for Crossing. Were all of the Baronies not home to an impressive and proud army, the Barons and Baronesses themselves are each as intimidating as a platoon. The most public and well-known, Baron Sarraht of Zandavia, is a vampire. The neighbouring territory of Angwa is ruled by Baroness Lycisca, a werewolf, the coastal barony of Provenzia is watched over by Baroness Kantzen, a night hag, and the other leaders, more private, are said to be all manner of supernatural creature and are attributed with endless impressive and terrible deeds. Some of this is merely rumour.
Despite their fearsome reputations, the people of the Baronies swear by their home and their ruler, and indeed are cared for. All rulers take taxes, and many are happy to pay in blood, dreams, or other strange methods for the benefit of a strong and savvy ruler. Though the Baronies have minor squabbles with one another, they generally regard each other as allies, especially compared to Crossing and the settlements of the other branches. Zandavia and Angwa in particular, as well as being the most central and well-known Baronies, are tight and trusted allies even when it comes to internal conflicts.
The Unruled Pass is claimed to be the work of an ancient wizard from the Baronies to prevent the spread of the barbarians on the other side. Across the Pass, it is claimed to be the work of an ancient druid native to the area that would become Independence to keep out the armies of the Baronies. What is true of the area is that it is a little over two hundred feet of land, stretching across the continent and hugging the border of the Baronies, in which bursts of positive and negative energy fire and fluctuate wildly. Any attempts to cross it must be done with protective measures and extreme haste, as both the living and the undead are in danger of taking a lethal burst of energy while they stand in the Pass. Over the centuries, the area has developed interesting and hardy wildlife.
Across the Pass lies apparently untamed forests and swamp, which is in fact the sovereign nation of Independence, from Pass to Gate. It has no official government, but is rarely without a de facto leader, and consists entirely of small communities living largely by foraging, hunting, and modest farming. The only law of the land is “That which you are born with, that which you take from nature, that which you are given, is yours. That which we foster together is ours. This shall not be taken from us.” Mostly composed of humans and orcs, Independents are known as a fierce, terse, and capable people, taught their parents' trades at a young age and taught the very small pool of people they are to trust from birth. The small few of them that act as guides – either through Independence to the Gate to Ambition or across the Unruled Pass to the rest of the world – are outsiders and loners to other Independents.
Independence's attitude as something of a meritocracy – they care more for ability and character than race and origin – can be seen in the relationships between the races in the country's borders. Human and orcs live so closely together that interbreeding is a matter of course. Any human/orc hybrid – dubbed a half-orc anywhere else – is known to Independents as a balesse, an archaic word originally meaning “both”. Even as close as the Baronies, where all manner of people live and neither orcs nor half-orcs are uncommon sights, travelling Independents will take exception to use of the term “half-orc”, and the implications it carries that such people are somehow lesser or that human is the default.