Chapter 1: Ten-Towns
Jul 10, 2021 19:26:41 GMT
Post by RotFm Dungeon Master on Jul 10, 2021 19:26:41 GMT
Everyone
Icewind Dale has become trapped in a perpetual winter. Ferocious blizzards make the mountain pass through the Spine of the World exceedingly treacherous, and this land has not felt the warmth of the sun in over two years. In fact, the sun no longer appears above the mountains, not even in what should be the height of summer. In this frozen tundra, darkness and bitter cold reign as king and queen. Most Dale residents blame Auril the Frostmaiden, the god of winter's wrath. The shimmering aurora that weaves across the sky each night is said to be her doing- a potent spell that keeps the sun at bay.
Dalefolk live in a scattering of settlements known as Ten-Towns. The drop-off in caravans coming from the south and travel between settlements in this never-ending winter has left everyone feeling isolated. Although each town has resolved to appease the Frostmaiden with sacrifices of one kind or another, no respite from winter's fury seems forthcoming. For adventurers such as yourselves, Ten-Towns is a place to test one's mettle and, in the spirit of heroes who have come before, leave one's mark on this frigid, blighted land.
The first stop for most visitors to Icewind Dale is Bryn Shander, a walled town perched atop a cold, lonely, wind-lashed hill. Bright lanterns suspended over narrow streets twist in the wind and add fle ks of colour to the town's otherwise drab surroundings.
The friendliness in this settlement has dwindled of late. Auril's unyielding winter has greatly reduced the number of visitors to Bryn Shander, and local trade is suffering for it, eating away at the locals' sense of humor and goodwill. Still, there is no safer place in Icewind Dale to spend coin or spend the night.
Te walls of the town stand some 30-feet-high and are defined by two concentric rings of upright wooden poles, the gap between them filled with dirt and rubble. The outer rings of poles rises above the top of the wall, providing a rampart for defenders stationed on the woodplanked walkway. The wall's hinged gates are 15-feet-tall and can be barred from the inside with iron-banded wood beams. These gates are closed when it's dark outside, which is to say more often than not.
Having all decided to meet each other within the settlement, you all chose to meet near The Northlook, Bryn Shander's establishment that doubles as a tavern and an Inn. It's the establishment within the settlement that is most frequented by mercenaries and adventurers, and as such its the rowdiest and most dangerous place to stay in Bryn Shander. At the same time, its taproom is the best spot in all of Ten-Towns to get lead son profitable ventures, along with the latest news and rumors.
Before you can all head into the tavern, a bundled-up figure walks briskly up to you all.
"Well met! You lot seem like you're looking for work. Or trouble. You wouldn't be standing around in this cold otherwise." The female voice blurts out from under her winter-hood towards you all, obviously turning to look at each one of you from under the frumpy hood that looks to have frozen very slightly.
Icewind Dale has become trapped in a perpetual winter. Ferocious blizzards make the mountain pass through the Spine of the World exceedingly treacherous, and this land has not felt the warmth of the sun in over two years. In fact, the sun no longer appears above the mountains, not even in what should be the height of summer. In this frozen tundra, darkness and bitter cold reign as king and queen. Most Dale residents blame Auril the Frostmaiden, the god of winter's wrath. The shimmering aurora that weaves across the sky each night is said to be her doing- a potent spell that keeps the sun at bay.
Dalefolk live in a scattering of settlements known as Ten-Towns. The drop-off in caravans coming from the south and travel between settlements in this never-ending winter has left everyone feeling isolated. Although each town has resolved to appease the Frostmaiden with sacrifices of one kind or another, no respite from winter's fury seems forthcoming. For adventurers such as yourselves, Ten-Towns is a place to test one's mettle and, in the spirit of heroes who have come before, leave one's mark on this frigid, blighted land.
The first stop for most visitors to Icewind Dale is Bryn Shander, a walled town perched atop a cold, lonely, wind-lashed hill. Bright lanterns suspended over narrow streets twist in the wind and add fle ks of colour to the town's otherwise drab surroundings.
The friendliness in this settlement has dwindled of late. Auril's unyielding winter has greatly reduced the number of visitors to Bryn Shander, and local trade is suffering for it, eating away at the locals' sense of humor and goodwill. Still, there is no safer place in Icewind Dale to spend coin or spend the night.
Te walls of the town stand some 30-feet-high and are defined by two concentric rings of upright wooden poles, the gap between them filled with dirt and rubble. The outer rings of poles rises above the top of the wall, providing a rampart for defenders stationed on the woodplanked walkway. The wall's hinged gates are 15-feet-tall and can be barred from the inside with iron-banded wood beams. These gates are closed when it's dark outside, which is to say more often than not.
Having all decided to meet each other within the settlement, you all chose to meet near The Northlook, Bryn Shander's establishment that doubles as a tavern and an Inn. It's the establishment within the settlement that is most frequented by mercenaries and adventurers, and as such its the rowdiest and most dangerous place to stay in Bryn Shander. At the same time, its taproom is the best spot in all of Ten-Towns to get lead son profitable ventures, along with the latest news and rumors.
Before you can all head into the tavern, a bundled-up figure walks briskly up to you all.
"Well met! You lot seem like you're looking for work. Or trouble. You wouldn't be standing around in this cold otherwise." The female voice blurts out from under her winter-hood towards you all, obviously turning to look at each one of you from under the frumpy hood that looks to have frozen very slightly.