Welcome To The Valley
The Valley of Gleedendore was once a peaceful place, where the Spodges roamed contentedly. They learned together at Follycog School, living curious and simple lives among the hills and forests of the valley.
But as the years passed, technology crept quietly into Gleedendore in the form of the Mayoos — robots created to make life easier for the valley’s inhabitants. Instead, they slowly became a system of control, reshaping the lives of the Spodges and the world around them.
Twispodge is a collection of stories, creatures, and treasures from this strange valley — small pieces of Gleedendore made to be collected, worn, carried, and shared. From prints and cards to keyrings and shirts, every piece is a tiny window into the valley.
Wiheom Mountain
At the northernmost edge of Gleedendore stands the Northern Spire, a tall, quiet mountain with too many little entrances at its base. The lower ones are gloomy and damp, and nobody in their right mind goes in for long. But higher up, things change. The stone begins to warm, and faint golden light seeps through the cracks, as if the mountain is slowly remembering its inner magic. Locals say it’s best not to think too hard about it. The mountain, after all, doesn’t like being understood all at once.
Peelwood Between
Gleedendore was once a single, continuous town stretching from end to end like one long, shared thought, but nature had other plans. Trees pushed up through cobblestones without asking permission, rivers quietly changed their minds about where they were meant to flow, and hedges appeared in the middle of streets where old arguments used to decide direction. Peelwood Between is the strange, quiet forest that grew in the space that once held the towns together. The forest feels slightly peeled back from reality. Its trees are soft-barked and fruit-heavy, light lingers longer than it should, and paths subtly shift when you’re not looking. Even silence has texture, broken only by the gentle rustle of the Bellow Ribbon River as it threads through the land.
Easou & Wesnor
After the slow unravelling of Gleedendore, the two halves that remained began to grow in completely different directions.
Easou became the louder, denser half, always in the act of becoming something larger. It is rich with layered heritage, as if every era of Gleedendore left a visible mark and none of them were ever cleared away. Old stone castles - as well as the mysterious Alethea Tower - still stand, but now they glow from within with neon signs and bass-heavy music that spills from their towers into the streets below. It is cosmopolitan and restless, full of markets, cultures, and voices all overlapping at once—like a place that refuses to stop adding itself together. Easou does not sit still; it grows, argues, rebuilds, and celebrates, often all at the same time.
Wesnor, by contrast, is quieter and more cottage-bound, as though it chose to step away from the noise rather than compete with it. It holds little in the way of grand history—most of that, people say, “belongs to Easou anyway.” Instead, Wesnor lives in gentle present-tense rhythms: small markets that appear in the same places out of habit, country fairs that feel like they have always existed, and cottages that seem to have grown out of the land rather than been placed upon it. Life here is softer, slower, and content with being unremarkable, as if peace itself were its defining feature.