The Lost Hills
1495, DRetween the bustle of the two great cities of Waterdeep and Neverwinter, the Lost Hills is a hazardous, wild region named for its odd paths that twist and tend to leave travelers astray, settled on the Sword Coast of northwestern Faerun. Rolling grasslands tumble beneath the biting winds, and ridges of large stones stretch into the sky. Its jagged peaks and dense, coniferous forests conspire against outsiders, providing a challenge within the rugged land itself.
It is a frontier that does not favor the weak - for amongst the ruins of ancient dwarven holds, elven palaces and kingdoms long past, monsters take savage delight in the lack of control held by local powers. The settlements of Leilon and Phandalin stand as some of the last defenses against a wilderness that seeks to consume all, and through the Lost Hills’s sparse population, it is the mayors, merchants and lesser lords who hold influence. Even so, this does not stretch far beyond the bounds of their towns, and thus, there is no shortage of work to be had for an adventurer.
Most folk here are hard-working lumberers, miners and sailors - they are hearty, simple folk who embody the region’s need for self-reliance. They hunt, fish and farm for their food and prioritize their survival above all else, for luxury in this region is not commonly afforded. Most can hope to score such splendor through the region’s valuable ore deposits, of which the Lost Hills is known for, and has been the reason for many expeditions or conflicts.
All sits in a precarious balance held at the whims of a legendary green dragon known as Claugiyliamatar. She is a looming reminder of the weakness of even the most skilled adventurer, a cruel queen who could burn the region to cinders - but instead toys with her prey, and does her bidding from the once dwarven ruin, now the city of Southkrypt, a settlement that plays host to the greedy and suffers not the weak. The mention of her name conjures images of greed and guile, a tyrant who manipulates the desperate and sponsors the strong in plays for domination, material gain and magical power.
To persist in a region that seeks to wear you down - to find a path in a land that would see you lost. These are the goals of many who dare settle the Lost Hills, where evil is repelled, and not destroyed - and the wilderness provides its greatest discoveries and worst horrors.
Its appearance is as foreboding as its name - The Mere of Dead Men. This dismal, cold, saltwater swamp was once said to be a lush forest before a catastrophic event led to the deaths of thousands, when the kingdoms of Uthtower, Yarith and Phalorm fell to the orcish Everhorde in 611 DR. Legend says that a lich who once served the kingdom of Uthtower, contacted for aid by the kingdom, honored this plea with a touch of malevolence - and thus, released a spell that caused the nearby ocean to flood the region, drowning the kingdoms and the orcish hordes alike. Thus was birthed the Mere of Dead Men.
The watery mass grave grows with each passing year, a festering scar upon the Lost Hills that tells of the dangers of bargaining with dark powers, believed to be bound by the lich’s spell to one day claim the rest of the region. It claims more bodies, as a cult of Myrkul stalks the shallow, murky depths to raise the dead and assail the living. Aquatic, beastlike monsters such as the lizardfolk, sahuagin and bullywugs too are a danger, snatching villagers for profane rituals and bloody sustenance; they tread the ruins of the dead kingdoms, repurposing them for their own savage needs.
It was once called the Llewyrrwood by the ancient elves of Illefarn who inhabited this realm; southeast of the great city of Neverwinter, the Neverwinter Wood teems with magic, its wild verdance dotted with the groves of druids and moss-hewn menhirs with runes that have faded with the passage of time. Through the events of the spellplague, the veil between worlds has thinned in these woods, inviting a host of creatures from the Feywild; from light-hearted mischief to sadistic havoc, these capricious beings bring about a further air of uncertainty. Some hidden, pulling strings - setting travelers astray, or leading them to their doom.
The influence of the elves is seen everywhere, in abandoned keeps and in half-buried statues that have crumbled over millennia. Skulking there, the elven supremacists of the Eldreth Veluuthra violently defend these ruins from outsiders, arrows set upon the humans who might dare step foot within these lands. Yet, the elven menace is not unchallenged, for the Gray Wolf Tribe of the Uthgardt barbarians too use these woods as their stomping grounds, hunting beasts and men both, howling their praises to primal spirits and their demigod of war. Between them, the savage goblinoids of the Cragmaw Tribe and the scarlet-cloaked Redbrand Bandits stalk these fey-touched woods, waylaying travelers and pilfering their riches.
Kryptgarden Forest is known for its low, foul-smelling fog, obscuring mists and an unexplained, reddish hue upon the forest floor. Containing ruins of long-gone civilizations, the forest is one not often tread by humans, for it holds the dwelling of Claugiyliamatar, or Old Gnawbone - an ancient, legendary green dragon who serves as the undisputed mistress of Kryptgarden Forest. While she may fancy herself the queen of Kryptgarden, she is at times subverted by twisted, malevolent fey who tread this forest, true to the depictions of cautionary tales told at childhood. Little but beasts and monsters tread here, with the warlike hobgoblins of the Lostafinga Tribe sporting a sizable population within the region.
By many locals, the dark forest is considered to be haunted, leaving much of its existence a mystery. Its name is derived from Southkrypt Garden, an abandoned dwarfhold of which the region is primarily known for. Often associated with the orcish ruins of Uruth Ukrypt, the bones of the kingdom now crumble beneath moss and ivy. The ruins of elves, dwarves and orcs are claimed by the overgrowth now - and few dare settle here. From her lair in Deeping Cave, Claugiyliamatar reigns, a tyrant swathed in emerald scales and malevolent wisdom. Greedy and scheming, many a cult, clan or company has bent the knee to fulfill her wicked whims and fill her lair with riches, relics and sacrifices galore. Beneath the twisted, black boughs of this haunted wood, warbands and tribes battle for her favor, satisfying her need for bloody entertainment and scoring their own survival.
Rising above the Lost Hills, the Sword Mountains present themselves as a point of wonder and mystery for the settlers of this realm. Few have been able to settle this place successfully - for its frigid, jagged peaks, icy surfaces and high altitude ensures that only the strongest are able to thrive. Traversing the land itself is a difficulty, but with risk comes reward, as the region holds valuable ore in the famed Mountain's Toe mine and other great discoveries to be made. From the Wave Echo Cave where magic is as abundant as mithril, to Icespire Peak where frost giants and trolls tread, the region thrums with perilous wonder.
Hundreds of years ago, the orcish kingdom of Uruth Ukrypt called this place home, and now their ruins lie buried in the snow and captured by rime; persisting still, the remnants of the Brotherhood of the Scarlet Scourge haunt them. If anyone would have the constitution to settle here permanently, it would be they and the dwarves, who possess holdings in the mountains; in particular, the noble Clan Icehammer, allies of the Lords’ Alliance. Yet, so have the gnomes, sporting the elusive village of Ieriythembul reportedly somewhere in this mountain range, and active in the region’s lucrative mining economy.
This secluded region not only attracts explorers and miners, but those who would also utilize its remoteness for foul activities and forbidden rites, hosting an array of cults dedicated to dark gods, as many great evils for the entirety of the Lost Hills have been birthed in these very mountains. On its surface, naught but frost trolls and snow goblins are to be found in the Sword Mountains, with few hospitable settlements, if any - but a storied enough traveler knows that this region is far more rich than most believe.
It is a frontier that does not favor the weak - for amongst the ruins of ancient dwarven holds, elven palaces and kingdoms long past, monsters take savage delight in the lack of control held by local powers. The settlements of Leilon and Phandalin stand as some of the last defenses against a wilderness that seeks to consume all, and through the Lost Hills’s sparse population, it is the mayors, merchants and lesser lords who hold influence. Even so, this does not stretch far beyond the bounds of their towns, and thus, there is no shortage of work to be had for an adventurer.
Most folk here are hard-working lumberers, miners and sailors - they are hearty, simple folk who embody the region’s need for self-reliance. They hunt, fish and farm for their food and prioritize their survival above all else, for luxury in this region is not commonly afforded. Most can hope to score such splendor through the region’s valuable ore deposits, of which the Lost Hills is known for, and has been the reason for many expeditions or conflicts.
All sits in a precarious balance held at the whims of a legendary green dragon known as Claugiyliamatar. She is a looming reminder of the weakness of even the most skilled adventurer, a cruel queen who could burn the region to cinders - but instead toys with her prey, and does her bidding from the once dwarven ruin, now the city of Southkrypt, a settlement that plays host to the greedy and suffers not the weak. The mention of her name conjures images of greed and guile, a tyrant who manipulates the desperate and sponsors the strong in plays for domination, material gain and magical power.
To persist in a region that seeks to wear you down - to find a path in a land that would see you lost. These are the goals of many who dare settle the Lost Hills, where evil is repelled, and not destroyed - and the wilderness provides its greatest discoveries and worst horrors.
Regions
Mere of Dead Men
Faction ‒ Leilon
Its appearance is as foreboding as its name - The Mere of Dead Men. This dismal, cold, saltwater swamp was once said to be a lush forest before a catastrophic event led to the deaths of thousands, when the kingdoms of Uthtower, Yarith and Phalorm fell to the orcish Everhorde in 611 DR. Legend says that a lich who once served the kingdom of Uthtower, contacted for aid by the kingdom, honored this plea with a touch of malevolence - and thus, released a spell that caused the nearby ocean to flood the region, drowning the kingdoms and the orcish hordes alike. Thus was birthed the Mere of Dead Men.
The watery mass grave grows with each passing year, a festering scar upon the Lost Hills that tells of the dangers of bargaining with dark powers, believed to be bound by the lich’s spell to one day claim the rest of the region. It claims more bodies, as a cult of Myrkul stalks the shallow, murky depths to raise the dead and assail the living. Aquatic, beastlike monsters such as the lizardfolk, sahuagin and bullywugs too are a danger, snatching villagers for profane rituals and bloody sustenance; they tread the ruins of the dead kingdoms, repurposing them for their own savage needs.
The Mere of Dead Men is an inherently dangerous zone with known undead, black dragon affiliation, and other threats. While not all of these threats can be visually represented, it is expected that players RPing in the Mere of Dead Men will uphold the flavor of the setting and roleplay appropriate expectations of danger in this area.
Holy and/or good aligned characters in particular should approach this zone with wariness and an appropriate acknowledgement of its corruption. Areas within the Mere cannot be cleansed or sanctified by any permanent means. No matter the efforts, eventually the corruption of the Mere will return.
Status Effect: Born of the many curses of the Mere of Dead Men is the Necrotic Fog, reflecting its powerful font of necromancy. Necrotic Fog boosts the effect of necrotic damage by 15%, and weakens radiant damage by 15%.
Holy and/or good aligned characters in particular should approach this zone with wariness and an appropriate acknowledgement of its corruption. Areas within the Mere cannot be cleansed or sanctified by any permanent means. No matter the efforts, eventually the corruption of the Mere will return.
Status Effect: Born of the many curses of the Mere of Dead Men is the Necrotic Fog, reflecting its powerful font of necromancy. Necrotic Fog boosts the effect of necrotic damage by 15%, and weakens radiant damage by 15%.
Neverwinter Wood
Faction ‒ Phandalin
It was once called the Llewyrrwood by the ancient elves of Illefarn who inhabited this realm; southeast of the great city of Neverwinter, the Neverwinter Wood teems with magic, its wild verdance dotted with the groves of druids and moss-hewn menhirs with runes that have faded with the passage of time. Through the events of the spellplague, the veil between worlds has thinned in these woods, inviting a host of creatures from the Feywild; from light-hearted mischief to sadistic havoc, these capricious beings bring about a further air of uncertainty. Some hidden, pulling strings - setting travelers astray, or leading them to their doom.
The influence of the elves is seen everywhere, in abandoned keeps and in half-buried statues that have crumbled over millennia. Skulking there, the elven supremacists of the Eldreth Veluuthra violently defend these ruins from outsiders, arrows set upon the humans who might dare step foot within these lands. Yet, the elven menace is not unchallenged, for the Gray Wolf Tribe of the Uthgardt barbarians too use these woods as their stomping grounds, hunting beasts and men both, howling their praises to primal spirits and their demigod of war. Between them, the savage goblinoids of the Cragmaw Tribe and the scarlet-cloaked Redbrand Bandits stalk these fey-touched woods, waylaying travelers and pilfering their riches.
Kryptgarden Forest
Faction ‒ Southkrypt
Kryptgarden Forest is known for its low, foul-smelling fog, obscuring mists and an unexplained, reddish hue upon the forest floor. Containing ruins of long-gone civilizations, the forest is one not often tread by humans, for it holds the dwelling of Claugiyliamatar, or Old Gnawbone - an ancient, legendary green dragon who serves as the undisputed mistress of Kryptgarden Forest. While she may fancy herself the queen of Kryptgarden, she is at times subverted by twisted, malevolent fey who tread this forest, true to the depictions of cautionary tales told at childhood. Little but beasts and monsters tread here, with the warlike hobgoblins of the Lostafinga Tribe sporting a sizable population within the region.
By many locals, the dark forest is considered to be haunted, leaving much of its existence a mystery. Its name is derived from Southkrypt Garden, an abandoned dwarfhold of which the region is primarily known for. Often associated with the orcish ruins of Uruth Ukrypt, the bones of the kingdom now crumble beneath moss and ivy. The ruins of elves, dwarves and orcs are claimed by the overgrowth now - and few dare settle here. From her lair in Deeping Cave, Claugiyliamatar reigns, a tyrant swathed in emerald scales and malevolent wisdom. Greedy and scheming, many a cult, clan or company has bent the knee to fulfill her wicked whims and fill her lair with riches, relics and sacrifices galore. Beneath the twisted, black boughs of this haunted wood, warbands and tribes battle for her favor, satisfying her need for bloody entertainment and scoring their own survival.
Sword Mountains
The Sword Mountains is a wild and untamed region with seldom to settle permanently.Rising above the Lost Hills, the Sword Mountains present themselves as a point of wonder and mystery for the settlers of this realm. Few have been able to settle this place successfully - for its frigid, jagged peaks, icy surfaces and high altitude ensures that only the strongest are able to thrive. Traversing the land itself is a difficulty, but with risk comes reward, as the region holds valuable ore in the famed Mountain's Toe mine and other great discoveries to be made. From the Wave Echo Cave where magic is as abundant as mithril, to Icespire Peak where frost giants and trolls tread, the region thrums with perilous wonder.
Hundreds of years ago, the orcish kingdom of Uruth Ukrypt called this place home, and now their ruins lie buried in the snow and captured by rime; persisting still, the remnants of the Brotherhood of the Scarlet Scourge haunt them. If anyone would have the constitution to settle here permanently, it would be they and the dwarves, who possess holdings in the mountains; in particular, the noble Clan Icehammer, allies of the Lords’ Alliance. Yet, so have the gnomes, sporting the elusive village of Ieriythembul reportedly somewhere in this mountain range, and active in the region’s lucrative mining economy.
This secluded region not only attracts explorers and miners, but those who would also utilize its remoteness for foul activities and forbidden rites, hosting an array of cults dedicated to dark gods, as many great evils for the entirety of the Lost Hills have been birthed in these very mountains. On its surface, naught but frost trolls and snow goblins are to be found in the Sword Mountains, with few hospitable settlements, if any - but a storied enough traveler knows that this region is far more rich than most believe.