Real Hinterland

Still focusing on European regions, unfortunately, as there are difficulties researching other parts of the world — though perhaps we shall get there, we can start with a distinction between two types of backcountry: "hinterland" and "wilderness." We can define the former as those unkept lands that juxtaposed upon the rural heartland that surrounded villages, towns and cities. Apart from lands that were cultivated, there were many "wild" places that nevertheless served as sources for timber, foraged food, hunting and many other resources.

This transitional zone was a realm that retained a degree of savagery, posing various threats to the cultivated parts adjacent to it. One significant challenge stemmed from banditry and lawlessness, as the hinterland provided cover for outlaws who preyed on nearby settlements through robbery and violence. Additionally, encounters with wildlife such as wolves and bears presented a constant threat to agricultural livelihoods and personal safety, with livestock predation and crop damage being common concerns. Natural disasters, including floods and wildfires, could also spill over from the hinterland into cultivated areas, causing widespread destruction exacerbated by poor land management practices. Moreover, competition for resources between settlers and indigenous inhabitants of the hinterland often led to conflicts over territory and resource rights, further threatening the poor livelihood of many persons.

The dense forests, hidden valleys and secluded caves to be found so close to farmer's fields made ideal refuges for all sorts of criminal entities. From here, they could launch raids on nearby settlements, and though their presence may be perfectly known to the residents, finding such outlaws was often a tremendous challenge. The tales of Robin Hood are built upon the believable idea that even in a small bit of wild, pursuit by the constabulary, the nobility and even the monarchy would be helpless to root out the resident bandits. Thus, operating outside the reach of established authorities, they could prey on travelers, merchants and farmers, perpetuating a climate of fear and instability. This is an easy, obvious sort of adventure for low-level characters to engage in, understanding that even after more than one foray, they may be completely unable to do more than get themselves ambushed, while successfully killing only a few bandits. A set of encounters between players and outlaws could become a long-term frustration, until at last the players somehow lucked upon, or uncovered a betrayer of the bandits, enabling the matter to be settled.

Of course, the players themselves might feel encouraged to become bandits, if they can find a suitable hide-out. Perhaps they would like to plunder a nearby mine, or seize all the food from a hunting camp, or rob a merchant or a bishop. They might carefully search out every inch of their domain to enable them to guess where searchers might come from, so they can be ready. A dungeon master can handle this by providing a moderately detailed map, giving the players the benefit of the doubt and letting them set up their own ambush. They might acquire refugees who approach, begging to join the players as members of their band; and the players, too, may one day find that one of these has betrayed the party, letting the locals know exactly what cave the party has made their base.

As said above, there are natural animals, too, that provide an ongoing challenge to agricultural livelihoods and the safety of foragers in the hinterland. These creatures, and the occasional low-level D&D monster besides, may provide food that can be included in the party's stores or sold for coin. Local farmers may be very grateful if the players knock of a few wolves that have taken too many livestock this season. In hunting panthers, wolverines and what not, the players may chance upon a worse apex predator, anything from a small hamlet of kobalds to an actual banshee, though they may yet be within 5 miles of a village. These possibilities, too, make a good set of encounters for a low-level party, without having to send them to yet another McDungeon. As villages and hamlets often support gamekeepers and hunters whose role is to specifically kill off predators and protect the herds, the players could join up with these and obtain a guide whose aims are likewise those of the party. This could lead to an important friendship, an inroad to the village's elders or even an invitation to a squire or a baron's manse.

Floods result from heavy rainfall or snowmelt in the hinterland's higher elevations, causing rivers to overflow their banks — which may be tucked away amid a blanket of hinterland, but which now finds a new course, inundating high-and-dry areas. Damaged crops could lead to long-term famine and a desperate population more willing to turn to banditry upon their neighbours. Roads, perhaps no more than dirt or clay paths, may be washed away, utterly isolating a village high in the mountains or well back in a forest. Such places may need to be gotten to, with supplies the players could carry. Secondary bridges may collapse, ending trade and causing shortages that push prices up and local desperation as well. Landlords in times of such trouble, having a soldiery under their pay and separated from the influence of higher authorities, may decide to engage in autocratic practices during the emergency.

Similarly, wildfires, sparked by lightning strikes or human activity in the hinterland's forests, could spread rapidly under favorable conditions, consuming vast tracts of land and destroying valuable timber resources. The smoke and ash from these wildfires could blanket nearby cultivated areas, choking out residents and leading to abandoned properties that may be nowhere near the fire. Landslides triggered by heavy rainfall or deforestation in the hinterland could partially destroy more than roads, but hamlets or villages as well, creating scores of refugees that the players happen across. These things are far less likely to occur in areas that are considerably developed, but along the edges of civilisation, they would happen with alarming frequency.

While the hinterlands separating borderlands in medieval to Renaissance times posed a significant strategic challenge for communication, they provided excellent cover for cross-border raids on enemy kingdoms. These rugged expanses served as a natural barrier, providing a clear distinction to whose land a village or a farm belonged. For would-be raiders, however, once a hinterland terrain's numerous obstacles, wildlife or bandits became known, could traverse hinterlands such as these to make a surprise attack an enemy kingdom, take part of its wealth and then retreat into the secluded backcountry again. Often, the first people to learn that war had been declared were also those who had no means whatsoever to defend themselves or make preparations.

Moreover, by leveraging their knowledge of the terrain and employing hit-and-run tactics, raiders could strike quickly and decisively, inflicting maximum damage on enemy settlements, infrastructure and resources before disappearing. As hinterlands often lacked established military outposts or fortifications, they were vulnerable to infiltration and circumvention by raiding parties. This allowed raiders to bypass conventional defenses and exploit vulnerabilities in the enemy's defenses, catching defenders off guard and sowing chaos and confusion in their wake. Like the bandits, they could also make use of hide-outs near an enemy village, enabling them to evade pursuit and regroup for future raids, thereby prolonging the time before it took a whole army to arrive, eat all the food in the region and finally clean the enemy out of their roosts.

Here is a higher level campaign for players who may either be forced to contend with such raiders, or be offered coin, soldiers and other resources by their own monarch to go and raid some other enemy's lands, for the good of God and Country, obviously. How would the players react to be asked by a greater authority to please bring an attack to an otherwise peaceful neighbour, to burn houses and villages, to destroy food stores, even to kidnap young children who could be brought back home to be used as servants or raised to be soldiers of the Empire, as the Ottomans and other cultures did? Would they forsake their lands, or engage in such practices, given their 21st century sensibilities? I find that an interesting question.

Setting aside any further discussion of residents are adjacent cultures, how might we set about describing hinterlands of the period? Consider: in the eyes of those time periods, hinterlands were viewed with a mixture of awe, apprehension and curiosity. Traversing these wild and untamed landscapes offered medieval travelers an opportunity to witness the wonders of nature firsthand. For them, walking through a hinterland was not merely a recreational pursuit but a journey fraught with uncertainty and peril, where survival depended on knowledge of the land and the ability to navigate its treacherous terrain.

As they journeyed through such lands, though much might be familiar to some, most would have marveled at the diversity of flora and fauna, interpreting their encounters through the lens of folklore, superstition and religious beliefs. Every rustle in the underbrush or distant howl of a wolf would have been imbued with significance, evoking a sense of wonder and reverence. The geological features and natural landmarks of the hinterland would have been interpreted as manifestations of divine creation, serving as tangible reminders of the power and majesty of God.

Let's discuss the terrain itself. Hinterlands resisted cultivation due to various natural factors. Though accessible, the presence of poor-quality soil or inadequate drainage meant that even in flat, soiled land farming was yet improvidential and not worth the effort to clear it. Due to elevation or exposure, a hinterland might be more prone to the winter climate, or have a greater potential for the aforementioned flooding or landslides, or even avalanches. Rocky terrain prevalent in hinterlands poses a significant obstacle to agriculture. Large expanses of rocky soil make it difficult to plow and plant crops, as well as to establish irrigation systems necessary for sustained cultivation. Moreover, the presence of rocks and boulders can inhibit root growth and limit the availability of arable land, reducing the overall productivity of the area.

Secondly, steep slopes characteristic of many hinterland regions make farming impractical and often dangerous. Attempting to cultivate crops on steep inclines can lead to soil erosion and loss of topsoil, diminishing the fertility of the land over time. Additionally, farming on slopes increases the risk of landslides and soil instability, posing a threat to both agricultural infrastructure and human settlements.

Finally, standing water in the form of marshes, swamps or boggy areas are unsuitable for most crops, as excess moisture can suffocate plant roots and promote the growth of water-loving weeds and pests. Draining wetlands on a small scale isn't worth the effort.

For descriptive purposes, we can envision a variety of terrain types. One prevalent micro-terrain found is rocky outcrops, defined by exposed bedrock, rugged terrain and scattered boulders. Walking through rocky outcrops can be challenging, as the uneven surface and loose rocks demand careful navigation to avoid slips and falls, demanding careful footwork and agility. Travellers must negotiate uneven surfaces and rocky ledges while avoiding hidden crevices. It's in such places that we find caves and rock shelters, plus many opportunities for ambush, for those trees are a minimum so is line-of-sight. But this also means opportunities for hidden treasures and secrets to be discovered, such as mineral deposits, monsters and, of course, the remarkably unexpected.

Riparian zones, where land meets water, are another type. Here, trails follow the contours of rivers and streams, leading travelers through dense vegetation and across shallow fords. Crossing watercourses requires care, asking travelers to use stepping stones or makeshift bridges to traverse the flowing water. These areas provide not only a source of freshwater but also opportunities for fishing and foraging, supplementing provisions and sustenance during long journeys; but again, make excellent places for ambush. Certain times of year could mean the presence of submerging trails, rushing waters, the loss of crossing points over a given river and so on. Predators favour river paths, which may loop back upon themselves and create challenges to navigation. Hunted-for landmarks may be missed due to the overgrowth of the vegetation. Yet there may also be unbelievably beautiful glades, fantastic waterfalls and the possibility of sylvan, enchanted creatures, from whom the players may obtain aid.

Wetlands and marshes, marked by waterlogged soil and dense vegetation, force travellers to contend with muddy paths, tangled undergrowth and the constant presence of biting insects. Yet, they also offer opportunities for resource gathering, with travelers harvesting edible plants and waterfowl to supplement their provisions. Soft mud may fetch a boot from a player, and would obviously make progress slow and arduous. Areas would demand physical exertion and endurance, while the presence of standing water poses risks of drowning. Orientation can be challenging due to the lack of distinct trails or landmarks. Dense vegetation and waterlogged terrain obscure visibility. Overall, being wet, muddy, cold due to being unable to start a fire, or otherwise just unhappy at the pervasive stench, could all encourage a party to start back the mere five miles they are from civilisation.