La Perfide Albion
A place of bogs and fens, notorious for its chilling mists and inclement weather.
The isle of Albion is a barbaric wilderness in the eyes of most Bretonnians. Cold, damp, foggy, infested with goblins, rumoured to be home to many giants, and inhabited by tribes of primitive humans who speak an ill-sounding language few understand. In fact, as Bretonnians will admit if pressed, the isle is not quite as much of a wilderness as this suggests. There are some areas of Norse settlement, which are compatively civilised, acting as trade centres, and a considerable trade exists with the northern ports of Bretonnia (especially in Albion wool, which is highly regarded). However, the isle as a whole is the last great stronghold of the Old Faith, and culturally and technologically it appears to Bretonnian eyes to be buried in the dark ages.
Capital : Luton