The Nentir

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Near the northern boundary of the Forgotten Realms sits a broad valley. Carved by ice and rain and stream it stretches from forest, to ridge, to mountain range and its river - the Nentir -pushes its glacial waters ever southward into the more civilized reaches of the Realms. Here there are few people: centuries of a chaotic climate and political upheaval have stripped the Nentir Vale of many of its inhabitants.

The few cities to remain are surrounded by the memories of more chaotic times. Ruins of castles and battlefields dot the landscape and no village would ever be complete without a thick wall to protect its inhabitants from the perils of the Outside.

In the west, along the flanks of jagged peaks known as The Stonemarch sits the small human town of Winterhaven, managing to survive the snows coming off the mountains by occupying an important crossroads in trade between other northern cities and the kingdoms to the south. In the east, nestled in the Dwarforge Mountains sits Hammerfast: a dwarven mining town and stronghold ever since the days of the fall the Old Empire. Its walls are thick and growing thicker, having recently tested in the Bloodspear war, which cooled down here only seven years past.

Between these two cities, nestled in the Moon Hills, at the crossroads of the trade routes and the Nentir river itself sits Fallcrest. By far the largest city in the Vale, it was founded as a holdfast and is now a prosperous city with a lord warden to watch over it and a thriving community who make their livings as river traders. The city was founded during the tumultuous wars of the hill cheiftans in the age of heros and dragons. Today it has been struggling to grow following the chaotic Bloodspear war which ravaged this land nine years previously.

Every city sits on a mound of its own history which could influence everything from the greatest events to the smallest incidents. However when Iodireth saw the city for the first time it appeared only as a gray smudge with a few towers and ribbons of smoke on the southern horizon.

It was noon and her journey had been fairly long. Iodireth had neither money nor items and was concerned that arriving in a large, rough city like Fallcrest with nothing to her name would not be safe. To her right stretched the Nentir river, flowing south with the a haze of mist from one of its many falls in the distance. Before the falls however, were a pair of islands. A small fortification, long abandoned with a single stone tower sat on the nearest one.

With the hope that she would be safe there while she scavenged for tools or money Iodireth waded into the swiftly flowing current up stream from the Tower. A few minutes later, she emerged on the island, dripping wet with the Tower itself looming over her slightly. There was a small unused dock on the island, and the open archway to the fort's antechamber was marked with a set of runes Iodireth thought she could recognize.

Author's note: Starting next chapter, banner artwork will be done to demonstrate changes to Iodireth's inventory





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