Ludremonians are a pious people, loving the Church and defending and honoring their members. Abuse a priest in the streets of Ludremon and one is likely to end fighting a mob. Atavists are not loved, but respected for their beliefs. Ludremonians have a muddled enough past to share a cosmopolitan outlook. A druid might not have a mob save him if he’s jumped in the streets, but the attacker will certainly be harried by Hey now’s and What’s all this then’s. The people won’t turn a blind eye and they’ll call a guard if that seems safe.

Ludremonians love foreigners (except for the Mab, the Keireenish, and the Marnench). They find Maroldan merchants interesting and exciting and even a pagan would likely be met by more interest than hatred, although he’d have to withstand a barrage of missionary efforts.

Ludremonians are hard to impress but they love people who try. A good story, especially one that seems to be firsthand and true, will likely find many drink offers in a bar. A nice trick will find more. And then competition. If the visitor doesn’t buy drinks for other suitable stories or tricks, the offers will dry up after a night or two, but he won’t meet hostility or wear out his welcome. He’ll just become known as "that damned miser." The Ludremonians will say it with a smile if that’s the person’s only offense.

Ludremonians have a greater than normal sense of self-entitlement. Old women in villages aren’t afraid to tell off a noble. They might even thump him with their canes just a little. They love their aristocracy and they don’t have aspirations of class-climbing. Still, they aren’t above telling a lord he "doesn’t know his arse from a pile of good winter seed." Unless he does, in which case they might start talking down to their "farmer lord."

It can’t be stressed enough, though. Ludremonians respect their nobility. A village won’t storm a lord’s manor just because there’s something suspicious going on there, even if it seems wrong. They might even present a united front against outsiders provided the lord isn’t sacrificing virgins or some other wicked act.

It’s probably this love for the aristocracy that makes their rebellions, when they come, so terrible. They are peasants and the lord is the lord. If either side violates his duties, the affront to Ludremonian propriety will know no bounds. A lord who acts like some pathetic merchant, or worse, like he’s a bad Angian, is on borrowed time. A lord that doesn’t defend his people or brings them direct harm is done.

Above all, Ludremonians are scrappers. If someone invades a village, they will find harsh resistance. People who try to take candy from Ludremonian children will receive a savage kicking. An old man who finds his pocket picked is likely to punch the culprit in the throat.

Regent Scolyn is said (possibly apocryphally) to have visited Marnele once while that king preened for war. He showed the Regent his finest royal guard, resplendent in polished breastplates and beautiful uniforms. The King showed the Regent the men at drill and their marvelous skills on horse and in tourney. He turned to the Regent and said, "These are the finest two-hundred knights in the world. Do you think you can find any five hundred of your countrymen who could best them?"