Wonders of the World

The civilized peoples of Greyshad have founded great empires and kingdoms over the centuries. Some of these empires rose to magnificent heights of power that few today can imagine. In those times of wonder and greatness people constructed marvels that stand today long after the empires that gave them birth have fallen to ruin.

The Black Temple of Bael Turath

In ancient times the humans of the continent-spanning empire called Bael Turath sought alliances with dark powers to further their own conquest of the World. They made dark pacts with rebellious devils who would use them to bring down their lord, Asmodeus. From the dark rituals and unholy unions was born the tiefling race.

The tieflings constructed The Black Temple, a twisted and horrifying edifice, on the site where they performed their original rites. The fall of Bael Turath after the war with the dragonborn nation of Arkhosia wrought destruction throughout the tiefling empire. Rumors persist that the Black Temple still stands in the desolation of the fallen capital, and that within its walls great secrets and powerful magic await those hardy enough to brave the dangers of the temple.

Draconis

The dragonborn once held a great empire called Arkhosia. Arkhosia fell to ruin after its long war with the tiefling empire, Bael Turath. While most of the works of the dragonborn are long lost, ancient myths speak of the great momument called Draconis.

Draconis is a massive, lifelike statue of a dragon standing over 300 feet tall in the heart of the devastated capital of Arkhosia. Some claim that the statue is no statue at all, but is actually a colossal dragon of untold age who has slept for centuries. Further stories, whispered by some of the more wistful of dragonborn, claim that this great dragon will awaken some day and that at that time it will lead the dragonborn to their rightful place of dominion over the World.

The Great Pyramid of Thunas Shulael in Thalrabia

The desert nomads of Thalrabia once revered god-kings who walked among them. The first and greatest of the god-kings was Thunas Shulael who commanded his people to construct a great pryamid to hold his earthly remains when he ascended to the heavens. The slaves and people of Thalrabia labored for decades to complete the 500 foot tall structure and buried Thunas Shulael's deep within its most secret chambers after his death.

For over a century the god-kings continued to rule the people of Thalrabia and as each ascended to the heavens the people interred them with past god-kings. While the Thalrabian Empire has long collapsed, and the god-kings have left the people, this monument to their greatness stands to this day as the largest single construction in the World. Untold treasures and secrets are buried deep within its chambers. Untold numbers of would-be grave robbers have entered it and not lived to tell of the wonders or horrors they saw.

Rhakorarl

In ancient days, after Moradin freed the dwarfs from the giants who enslaved them, the dwarfs gathered in a great kingdom somewhere in the White Mist Mountains. For several hundred years they lived, worshipped and traded from their orignal city of Rhakorarl.

Over the centuries the city grew to enormous size. Its massive gates, built into the side of the mountain, are said to stand over 30 feet tall and are enchanted to prevent enemies from entering. The streets and highways of Rhakorarl burrow miles deep into the mountain where once over 30,000 dwarfs and their fellows lived.

The city is lost now. Giants, seeking vengeance on the dwarfs of old, attacked with aid from some force of the Underdark. The dwarfs fled the city when the battle was lost. They have since spent their lives, for generations, wandering the world. The dwarfs establish cities and kingdoms from time to time, and some of those kingdoms may stand for a few hundred years, but they are all pale imitations of Rhakorarl which the dwarfs hope to find and restore one day.

The Silver Tower of High Sorcery in Kray City

At the height of the Oshland Empire the greatest wizards of the world called the capital of the empire, Kray City, home. Here they built a tower which served as their college and fortress. For over two centuries The Silver Tower of High Sorcery stood as a beacon of learning and high magic in the world.

The Great Slaughter of Kray City and the Purge ended the Tower's dominance of magic. While the Tower still stands as a shining finger pointing at the sky amidst the wreckage of Kray City, none who seek it can reach it. The crater and black pit at the heart of the city spews forth horrors from unknown realms that destroy any who approach.

The Water Gardens of Greymont

The savage barabarians of the Ice Forests of Grelmire have built a single, peculiar work of magnificent art that stands in stark juxtaposition to their warlike ways. Greymont is the closest thing to a city in the Ice Forests. It is a sacred and holy place of peace among the barbarians. Situated in its center are the Water Gardens of Greymont.

Ice sculptures, fountains and ever-blooming winter roses cover over an acre of land in an awe-inspiring arrangement. Paths crisscross the garden where the people of Grelmire may wander in the beauty of their Gardens. Most holy among these savage people are the druids called Keepers of the Garden who tend to the site and ensure its perpetual peace and beauty never fades.

The World Tree of the Silverine

In the early years, before the elves, eladrin and drow were sundered into distinct races, they reached through the veil the divides the Feywild from the World and planted the World Tree. They tended the sapling as it grew for over 2,000 years into the wonder that it is today. The World Tree stands some 1,500 feet tall and spreads its boughs over several square miles of land.

After the races split away, the elves of the Silverine Forest continued to tend to and revere the World Tree. Then the Terror came which drove all elves from the city of Elderon where the Tree stands. The elves claim the Tree must still live else all elves over the World would have died of sorrow. The Terror that haunts the Silverine also guards the Tree and none have seen it for over a thousand years.

The Neighborhood: Points of Interest

Berador lies at the intersection of the Blue Wash, a river running roughly north and south, and the Road which runs generally east and west. A wooden palisade surrounds the town proper as it sits atop one of the higher hills in this rolling woodland. Just outside of the palisade on the south side Lake Callie, a deep, cold pool, gathers the waters of the Blue Wash between three high hills before they tumble over a swift fall to continue the southward journey. A narrow cart track follows the Blue Wash north out of town, and a similar path skirts the edge of the lake on its eastern shore and follows to points south.

The city state of Roth lies some three hundred fifty miles down the Road to the west and south. Once the eastern jewel of the long lost Oshland Empire, Roth still supports significant port trade and wealth as its great towers guard the Elba River as it passes between the sea to the east and the inland Great Lake to the west. King Mark Winland IV of Roth claims all of the lands within two hundred miles of his city, but in reality he holds less than a third of that.

Two hundred miles south of Berador the former pirate cove of Port Eben floats in the marshy mouth the Blue Wash where it joins with the Elba River near the sea. While time and civilization have tamed Port Eben somewhat, one can find a nasty bit of trouble there without looking too hard. Admiral Aaron Caine, the current governor of Port Eben, has worked hard over the last decade to introduce civility and culture to the place, but old habits die hard, and many of the sea captains that call Port Eben home still hold to the pirate ways of yesteryear.

Along the Blue Wash south of Berador are the towns of Darshire and Treefall. Darshire is a farming community, not unlike Berador about fifty miles downstream. Farther along, another seventy miles or so, is Treefall, a community wholly dedicated to the lumber industry. A great many of the ships and boats of Port Eben have their origin in the piney woods of Treefall.

Dalton's Camp, called Dalton by most, nestles high in the foothills of the White Mist Mountains some hundred miles up the road to the east and north of Berador. The place is little more than a mining camp with a wooden wall and a couple of guard towers overlooking the tightly packed inns and brothels. Many people will spend years in Dalton working the nearby mines trying to strike it rich. Some few families call the place home, but mostly the population consists of miners, guardsmen, traders, whores and ruffians.

About one hundred miles north of Berador, the town of Ford straddles the Blue Wash at an old crossroads. The east-west route that once ran through the town has fallen into disuse and is nearly impassable. Intrepid explorers could follow the track from the dwarf holdings in the White Mist Mountains way north and east to the town of Galloway in the northern reaches of old Oshland, but such a journey would surely bring great trouble. Many years ago the town of Ford was the commercial center of the region. When the dwarfs stopped trading with the men of Oshland the town dried up. Now it is a shadow of its old self. Many abandoned farms and shops litter the land while a hardy bunch of farmers and ranchers hold on in hopes of recapturing lost glory and wealth someday.

The ruins of the town of Kendall haunt the old track west of Ford. Kendall was once one of the "Free Cities" of the border, just out of the reach of the Oshland Empire's territory.

Well south of the road going west to Roth are the ruins of North Roth. North Roth was once an outpost of the Oshland Empire in what the kings called "the Eastern Marches". When the empire fell to ruin this town dried up as its purpose was to extend the reach of the Oshlanders. With no one to pay the soldiers' salaries, they drifted away and the town died.

Into The Wild: Unfriendly Neighbors

Beyond the bounds of the village and its outlying farms the Wild beckons with tales of forgotten treasures, fearsome foes and fame and glory for those brave enough or foolhardy enough to face the challenges. Some few travelers may journey from Berador to the nearby towns and villages or even far beyond to the great city of Roth, but they stay to the roads and well known paths, and even then they must beware of great dangers. But for those willing to take even greater risks adventure waits off the beaten paths in the forests and hills and mountains of the land. The lucky few will return from their exploits with wealth and tales and glory . . . most will never return at all.

Unfriendly Neighbors

Some dangers come easy to the mind. Goblins and their kin infest the foothills of the White Mist Mountains all about Berador. They fear to tread in the immediate environs of civilized lands, but woe to the unprepared who wanders too far from the shelter of town or village. Sometimes even the outlying farms will fall victim to goblin raiding parties, warg hunts or hobgoblin pillagers. Mostly the goblins stick to their own lands and avoid stirring up too mischief among the villagers, but they will not hesitate to capture, kill or steal from any who wander from the road or take their rest out of doors at night.

Recent rumors speak of a gnoll enclave that lies not too far north of Berador. It has been many years since the gnolls attacked the villages of men, but recent tales of assaults on the Road and the Wash speak to a potential danger that people cannot ignore. Should the gnolls rearm themselves and decide to attack the civilized lands Berador seems a likely starting point. Any who would wander north should be prepared to contend with these bestial creatures.

Farther afield, but still in the neighborhood, lies the dreary wood of the Silverine Forest. Hundreds of years ago the elves fled a terror in the wood. None would speak its name, and tales diverge wildly regarding its nature. They speak in turn of a demon lord or a fairy prince or a foul beast from the heart of the earth. All of the stories agree on one thing: the elves abandoned their mighty towers in the Silverine Forest and have never returned. What force could drive an entire nation from its haven? What wonders did the elves leave behind in their haste?

Starting Small

While getting ready to start up my own D&D 4th edition campaign I came across James Wyatt's Dungeoncraft article. I liked it. So, I'm stealing some of his ideas.

Berador

Introduction

Nestled on the western side of the White Mist Mountains just north of the Palantir River, Berador is a small farming village populated mostly by humans. A smattering of all of the common races of the world call Berador home. The people of Berador eke out a meager existence among the shattered ruins of a once great but nigh forgotten kingdom. The farmers live hard, mean lives struggling to feed themselves and hold back a bit each autumn to see themselves through the winter. The lucky few manage to squeeze a bit of surplus out of the land to trade with the brave souls of the Traveling Carnivals that make the rounds every season or so.

Beradorans have little love for change or surprise. It is hard enough to feed a family and survive the winter while dealing with the vagaries of weather and the common pests of the lands. Anything that upsets the natural order of life is at the least regarded as untrustworthy and usually is considered dangerous. Outsiders should not expect a warm welcome or a kind word in Berador.

The Neighborhood

Berador is a clear patch of farmland scraped out of the forested hills of the White Mist Mountains. It lies at the intersection of an ancient road and the Blue Wash. The Blue Wash flows out of the Silverine Forest far to the north and southward into the great Palantir River. The Road, as the villagers call it, runs from the mining town of Dalton some days northeast and goes as far as the great city of Roth to the southwest. Other villages and towns dot the countryside, none closer than several days’ ride along the Road or a similar distance up or down the Blue Wash.

The Village

The village proper consists of a handful of houses and the businesses of the local tradesmen encircled by a crude wooden palisade. A great millhouse straddles the Blue Wash on the north side of town. The southern edge of the village abuts a tiny lake formed by a natural dam in the ‘Wash. The Road bisects the town from east to west. No gates protect the entrances to the village at the Road. In times of need the people roll wagons into the road to close up the openings in their wall.

A tiny temple dedicated to [the locally acknowledged gods] sits in the center of the village. Gerry Woodcote leads local religious services including weddings, funerals, and annual festivals and holidays. The people of Berador are not particularly religious, but they do acknowledge the power of the gods. They make the expected offerings and perform the appropriate rites to avoid any undue wrath of the gods. The people of Berador look to Gerry as a counselor and advisor as well as spiritual leader.

The Maple House serves as a public gathering place and the local watering hole. Tamil Rivers, the proprietor, maintains a handful of rooms for the rare traveler or the local farmer caught in town by the dark. The people of Berador hold Tamil in high regard for his personal wealth, renowned prowess and worldly knowledge. Tamil traveled the lands as a lad, and as he will tell all and sundry given the time and a bit of beer in his belly, he once slew a dragon in the Craggy Pass a way west of Old Oshland. While he holds no official position of authority in the village, Tamil’s opinion is much sought after and his approval is a must for any significant decision.

The Farms

Beyond the pitiful protection of the palisade dozens of farms dot the countryside. The family farms grow over time as weddings and births increase the mouths to feed and the hands available to work. Most households span several generations and include several adult siblings and their spouses and children. The most common wedding gift in the region is the key to a new bedroom added on to the family home. On occasion a very large household will split into two or more nearby dwellings as the logistics of managing more than two dozen or so people in a single house becomes unmanageable. Very rare is the “loner” couple who leaves the family home to start a new farmstead without at least two or more adults or near grown children to help carry the load.

The Goods

The people of Berador survive on their own with little trade necessary between the village and outsiders. The farmsteads of the village provide the necessities of food, clothing and shelter. Trout from the Blue Wash and catfish from Lake Callie supplement the cattle, grains and greens from the farms. Most families provide for their own needs, but some minor crafted and manufactured goods come from the village craftsmen including a blacksmith, cobbler, tailor, miller and baker. The seasonal arrival of the Traveling Carnivals brings limited metal goods and exotic fare to the village in exchange for furs, foodstuffs and forest goods.

The People

Humans comprise the vast majority of the farmers and villagers of Berador. From the grizzled veteran Tamil Rivers and the village priest Gerry Woodcote to the farmers in the farthest outlying homesteads, most of the people in Berador are human. Twenty or so dwarfs, all of the Fireaxe clan, live inside the village proper and fill several craft roles in the village. They own the smith and mill. Another clan, the Stonejaws, holds a large farmstead several miles from the village. The Stonejaws raise goats and sheep. Berador’s tailor is an elf by the name of Gemini Starseer. He and his wife make their residence in town with their children. No other elves live inside the palisade. Three enclaves of elves live in the forests around the village. They trade their woodland wares with the rest of the village and are accepted as integral members of the community. A single halfling troop lives on the south bank of Lake Callie. They live in a chaotic mix of burrows in the higher hills, houses on stilts, mobile wagon homes and raft houses that ply the river north and south of town. For the most part they are fishermen, but some make a living providing travel and cartage services on the river and on the Road. Many more halflings come and go with the Traveling Carnivals.