Grubgrindle: Kingdom of the Wyrde

The Hectoring King, so named for his love of shouting unsolicited advice and insults, sits on a throne made entirely of screaming toads (yes I am going to build that), which periodically croak out warnings, complaints, or unsolicited gossip.

The king wears no crown but sports golden horns and rules the kingdom with a copper fist. 

He keeps the other courtiers on their toes and the mood in court chaotic.

It is against the law to have a bigger face than the king. Also any images of the man in the moon are banned.

The Court is the political, spiritual, and absurd heart of the kingdom. Filled with nobles, sages, beastlings, and unknowable creatures, it balances precariously between function and farce.

• The Hectoring King: Loud, cunning, impossible to please, and maybe more than one goblin stitched together.

• The Buzzing Viscount: A being with a living beehive for a head who communicates through scent and wingbeat.

• The Walking Shrines: Person-sized beings who carry small sacred structures on their backs; cryptic, ceremonial, possibly possessed.

• The Satyrs: Royal hunters who range into the surface forest, half-wild and deeply unnerving.

• The Elf: A rare presence; radiant, cursed, and under constant watch.

• The Mayor of Drumdark: A terrifyingly polite creature who smiles like he’s heard your death whispered in advance.

And interpreting them all are the Court Interpreters—ink-stained, spore-sickened scribes who translate buzzes, gestures, sighs, and architectural groans into law.