(ENG) D&D 5a Ed. - Sundering - Adventure II - Legacy of The Crystal Shard (x Livello 1-3) - Flip eBook Pages 1-50 (2024)

1L ii, LEGACY o THE CRYSTAL SHARD TM CAMPAIGN GUIDE

. .,.-, Design R.A. Salvatore withJeffrey Ludwig,James Wyatt, and Matthew Sernett Editing Ray Vallese Managing Editor Kim Mohan D&D RPG Senior Group Manager Mike Means D&D Producer Greg Bilsiand D&D Senior Creative Art Director Jon Schindehette Art Director Man Kolkowsky Cover Illustration TylerJacobson Graphic Design Bnee Heiss, Leon Contez Interior Illustrations Eric Belisle, Sam Cam, Crut, TylerJacobson,John Stanko Cartography Mike Schley D&D Brand Team Nathan Stewart, Liz Schuh, Laura Tommervik, Shelly Mazzanoble, Chris Lindsay, Hilary Ross,John Feil Publishing Production Specialist Jessica Dubey Prepress Manager Jefferson Dunlap Imaging Technician Carmen Cheung Production Manager Cynda Callaway Organized Play Chris Tulach DUNGEONS & DRAGONS, Wizards ofthe Coast, Legacy of the Crystal Shard, D&D, Forgotten Realms, all other Wizards ofthe Coast product names, and their respective logos are trademarks ofWizards ofthe Coast LLC in the USA and other countries. All Wizards characters and their distinctive likenesses are property ofWizards ofthe Coast LLC. This material is protected under the copyright laws ofthe United States ofAmerica. Any reproduction or unauthorized use ofthe material or artwork contained herein is prohibited without the express written permission ofWizards of the Coast LLC. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, places, or events included herein is purely coincidental. Printed in the U.S.A. ©2013 Wizards ofthe Coast LLC ISBN: 978-0-7869-6464-2 620A4538000001 EN CONTENTS INTRODUCTION 3 The Crystal Shard 3 ICEWIND DALE 4 Dragon’s Eye View 7 TEN-TOWNS 8 Fishing the Lakes Ii Scrimshaw 11 Getting to Ten-Towns 12 Bryn Shander 12 Easthaven 17 Lac 1)inneshere 20 Redwaters 27 Maer Dualdon 29 REGHED TRIBES 38 Tribe ofthe Elk 38 Evermelt 42 THEDWARVES 44 The Dwarven Valley 46 Denizens ofthe Valley 48 KELVIN’SCAIRN 50 Locations ofNote 50 THE FROSTMAIDEN 52 Followers 52 Practice 52 Goals 53 Servants ofAuril 53 The Tower ofthe Ice Witch 55 BEYOND ICEWIND DALE 56 Shaengarne River 56 CoidRun 56 Sea ofMoving Ice 58 Spine ofthe World 59 THE ARCANE BROTHERHOOD 60 Organization 60 Goals 60 Agents ofthc Brotherhood 62 The Ships ofLuskan 63 Fr CREDITS

. INTRODUCTION The end ofthe Era ofUpheaval is nigh! The world ofthe FORGOTTEN REALMS setting has endured one catastrophe after another for the past century, from the Time ofTroubles through the Speliplague. Again and again, upheaval has reshaped the pantheon, overthrown nations and rulers, and altered the landscape. Now, the world is being shaken and reshaped again—for the last time. The gods are thrown into chaos at the promise of a new reckoning ofthe pantheon, and they scramble and grasp at power in hopes ofcementing their posi tions ofauthority. Their mortal agents in the world, the Chosen, are charged with carrying out their will in every aspect oflife. The Speliplague, the magical catastrophe that dra matically reshaped the world, has come to an end. The Weave ofmagic is rewoven, and many lingering effects oftwisted magic fade. The intermingling of worlds brought about by the Speliplague comes to an end, leaving Toril looking much as it did before. Partly driven by the activity ofthe gods’ Chosen and partly arising from the turbulent political situation at the end ofthe Era ofUpheaval, the nations and factions ofFaerün engage in their own maneu vers, manipulations, and acts ofa*ggression. In particular, the empire ofNetheril attempts to conquer the Dalelands, Cormyr, and Myth Drannor, setting offa war that engulfs the eastern Heartlands. Nations, geography, magic, and the gods are changing forever in the birth pangs that herald a new creation. The world needs heroes to ensure that the new age dawns bright and full ofhope, with good still shining as a beacon against the darkness. This adventure is set during the Sundering, near the beginning ofits cataclysmic events. The year is 1485 DR, making it roughly concurrent with the Sundering novel The Adversary, by Erin M. Evans. Because Icewind Dale is remote and has changed little since the time ofAkar Kessell more than a cen tury ago, you can adapt the adventure to any period in the history of Faerñn. Using This Adventure: This booklet, the Campaign Guide, provides a wealth ofinformation about Icewind Dale and the surrounding region. The other booklet in this package is the adventure. The material in the Campaign Guide is background that will help you and your players become more immersed in the setting. Some ofit is used directly in the adven ture, including descriptions ofimportant nonplayer characters (NPCs) and maps ofkey locations. THE CRYSTAL SHARD As its title suggests, this adventure deals with the legacy ofevents told in the novels ofR. A. Salvatore, including The Crystal Shard, Passa8e to Dawn, The Silent Blade, Servant ofthe Shard, and The Ghost King, among others. You need not have read any ofthese books to run and enjoy this adventure, but understanding the role that Akar Kessell and the Crystal Shard play in the history ofthe region will help the pieces ofthe adventure fit together. As related in The Crystal Shard, Akar Kessell was a young apprentice ofthe Arcane Brotherhood. After murdering his mentor, he was abandoned in Icewind Dale by his fellow wizards, who had manipulated him into committing the crime. On the brink offreezing to death on the ice-covered slopes ofthe Spine ofthe World, Kessell stumbled upon Crenshinibon, the Crystal Shard—an evil artifact that took control ofthe wizard and gave him incred ible power. Wielding the shard, Kessell created a magical tower, Cryshal-Tirith, in its likeness. He raised an army ofsavage huinanoids from the Spine ofthe World and threatened to conquer Ten-Towns before he was stopped by an alliance ofthe TenTowners and the Reghed tribes. Ofcourse, the aid ofDrizzt Do’Urden and his companions—Bruenor Battlehammer; Wulfgar, son ofBeornegar, ofthe Elk Tribe; the halfling Regis; and Catti-brie—was invalu able in stopping Akar Kessell. Thwarting Akar Kessell did not put an end to the threat ofthe Crystal Shard. It was eventually destroyed, but not before leaving a permanent mark on Icewind Dale. In various places where crystal towers stood, the dust ofthe destroyed towers has fused with the ice to form a new substance. Called black ice, this dusky gray material is cold and rockhard, but it can be worked like metal in a forge. Now a dwarfsinith crafts trinkets, weapons, and armor from this strange black ice—and Auril’s Chosen has erected a tower made ofthe same substance. But though Crenshinibon’s malign intelligence is gone, the black ice retains traces ofits deep evil, which slowly corrupts all who come into contact with it. One Crystal Shard was enough to cause mayhem throughout Icewind Dale for many years. How much harm will countless items formed ofblack ice cause? I \- H iirr; rrr’ ! After you have run the adventure, the Campaign Guide should remain a useful resource about Icewind Dale, one ofthe most famous locations in the world ofthe Forgotten Realms.

¶ Freezing wind sweeps across the tundra, ceaselessly battering anything that dares to grow or breathe in its domain. Even in summer, when the days stretch interminably long, the sun blazing low in the midnight sky brings no respite from the chill. Without fail, the wind finds its way through every chink and crack, every opening in the warmest furs, every tent flap, every roofand board ofthe strongest homes. It drains away any hint ofwarmth wherever it finds purchase. The threat ofwinter’s fury is never far away. The wind sweeping down from the Reghed Glacier howls its wrath and sometimes carries stinging sprays ofice in its grasp. The sun never rises far above the horizon even at the height ofsummer—and the height of summer is fleeting. During the rest ofthe year. sudden storms bring driving hail or sleet that leaves everything coated in a sheath ofice, or they bring snow that piles in deep drifts. All this cold and fury is caged into one small region. The ice cliffs ofthe Reghed Glacier—the source ofthe never-ending wind—rise up in the east like prison walls, home to white dragons and enormous remorhazes. In the south loom the snowcapped peaks ofthe Spine ofthe World, crawling with orcs, goblins, and other monsters. North and west, the Sea ofMoving Ice churns bergs and floes ICEWIND DALE

I in an endless tumult, like winter grinding its teeth in anticipation ofits next freezing assault. And yet, such is the nature oflife that even in this hostile place, it manages to lift its head in defiance ofthe biting cold. Lichens cling to weathered rock despite the battering ofthe winds, providing suste nance to herds ofreindeer through the winter. Fish swim in the lakes and rivers that dot the tundra. When summer comes to the tundra, life shakes offthe torpor ofwinter and comes forth in full flower. Grasses grow two or three feet high in the span ofweeks. Birds flock to the marshes formed in the thawing soil. Reindeer calves fill out the herds that have been diminished through the winter. Ofcourse, no region ofthe Forgotten Realms is without its people. Human tribes follow the reindeer herds through their annual migrations. Other humans dare the treacherous waters ofthe Sea of Moving Ice in search offish, seals, and whales to sus tam them. Dwarves dig into the earth to find shelter from the biting wind, mining for iron and forging weapons and armor. Most improbably ofall, civilized folk descended from foolhardy and treasure-mad immigrants from the south manage to survive and sometimes thrive in ten small towns. The wooden buildings ofthese towns provide only a little shelter from the cold and wind, and no protection at all from the attacks of orcs, barbarians, or the fierce tundra yeti. Though the towns are clustered around three icy lakes teeming with knucklehead trout, resources are scarce, and competition between neighboring communi ties can be fierce and occasionally deadly. But for all the dangers, people still live in the region known as Ten-Towns, and new arrivals—outcasts, fugitives, wanderers, and adventurers—still come to test themselves against the harshest environment known to the world. This is Icewind Dale. -

ICE PEAK The frozen Ice Peak is a desolate island named for the crags on its northern side, home to the white dragon called Iceclaws. The town ofAurilssbarg, small as it is, dwarfs the smaller settlements of l3jorn’s Hold and Icewolf. See page 58. —/ III could choose what lf would he mine, it would be this 1Ji’ that I now have, at this time. 1 ani at peace, and yet, the world around me swirls with turmoil, with the ever-present threat of harbarian raids and goblin wars, with tnndrayetis and Bi8alltic polar wornis. . .The reality ofexistence here in Icewind Dale is harsh indeed, an environment nnforgivin8, where one mistake will cost ),()yur life. —1)rizzt Do’Urden from The Crystal Shard THE SEA OF MOVING ICE The Sea of Moving Ice, frigid ocean waters littered with enormous icebergs in constant motion and col lision, borders lcewind Dale on the west and north. Farther north, the icebergs solidify into the polar ice cap called the Endless Ice Sea. See page 58. : / ,...If’ 4• ,( . .6 . ‘ . ..,•.,‘. . •4:,D .: •Ov —:- . ‘ ., , •;w - —-- ‘— :‘ ,j’ fJ/l ‘‘ ‘ii. \.. .: •.:- ;-- ; L:’ :: ‘ ‘4 5 -, _, S ‘F ,J; \. . ‘ ‘%.. •‘.N’• ‘ : !,-ç. N. ::,‘• F’ --. 1% 4;cs :- — ewa$ f :;F•: .‘IW: — - . -ç4-,-’ N .5 : 4 , . F- ., —-,‘S s’-’ THE TRACKLESS SEA The Trackless Sea extends from this, the western coast of Faerân, across thousands of miles to distant and mysterious lands. Here in the north, the sea is domi nated by pirates from Luskan. Northlanders from the Ice Peak to the west, and Gundarlun and Ruathym to the southwest, challenge the Luskan ships for control over these waters. ; ; ‘ 5’. S_,, . S S , ‘5’ S ‘ • ‘5 S;.4S ,.$ . S.. •;‘ ..2’i. . , : ‘ ‘. ‘ . ‘ 5

%% KELVIN’S CAIRN The solitary mountain called Kelvin’s Cairn stands among three lakes—Maer Dualdon, Lac Dinneshere, and Redwaters—that support Ten-Towns, the closest thing to civilization that lcewind Dale can offer. Beyond this small region is tundra—nothing but tundra. See page 50. __.____r ‘ . . .- . .-1,..-i r REGHED GLACIER The edge of the great Reghed Glacier rises like a wall to form the eastern boundary of lcewind Dale. The fierce, howling winds that blow offthe glacier give the dale its name. See page 41. THE NORTHERN MEANS The Northern Means is a very practical description of a practical road—the only real connection between Luskan (and the rest ofthe Sword Coast to the south) and the frozen lands beyond. See page 12. DRAGON’S EYE ViEW —‘ 1 # 1 THE SPINE OF THE WORLD The high peaks of the Spine of the World shelter southern lands from the harsh cold oficewind Dale. Crawling with orcs, goblins, and other monsters, the mountains are a dangerous barrier. See page 59. :, ‘_r_’ - ,, ::-k . . ‘I.- “:- ,—.----‘ - f,::J%_• .. _:J• •-:• :- % \% . . - ,_5’_,._. • : -‘ N %_.. ,,., .‘.:. , —--.

TEN-TOWNS Who would choose to settle in a frontier land as brutal as Icewind Dale? The answers are as diverse as the people ofTen-Towns, who are a cross-section ofthe whole ofthe Forgotten Realms. Some people come to Ten-Towns determined to make their fortunes. Although demand for knucklehead scrimshaw in southern lands is not what it once was, there is still money to be made in fishing for the trout and selling or carving their ivory-like bones. The valley and the slopes of DriZZt p1ck1UPI1IS paCC pushifl1 the limitS qfhis eiiilutCC Infive sTiortYeL1s he had COII1C W care 01 thC c1u5te1 ftlJhb0hl US Tem Towns andfor the ople who lived there Like so many ofthe othei outcastS who h1adfi1aY 5ttled there, the drow fu1T0 welC011 a11WTlC1C dSC tfl the Realms Even here he was only tolert by most, bitt in the tnsp0’jnsh*tp oLfel1OW iUC5,f peoplC bothered hUn. He’d been luciet .- - . than 11j5t he djowid wfn1WT0 COtld look beyond his heritage nd see his true chiaractel —The Crystal Shard the Spine ofthe World are rich in mineral resources, as are the gem mines near Termalaine, so a few hopeful prospectors make their way to the far north in hopes ofstriking a rich new vein. Still others come for the solitude. It is hard to get much farther away from the hustle and press of civilization than Icewind Dale—or closer to a particularly stark, harsh form ofnature’s beauty. The dale is also a fine place to escape notice and stay out ofthe reach ofthe law ofthe southern cities. Like the famous drow Drizzt Do’Urden, many ofthe people who come to Icewind Dale are outcasts, fugitives, or pariahs in search ofa place where they can be toler ated, ifnot accepted. Some ofthe people ofTen-Towns are descended from the Reghed barbarians who settled in Caer-Konig and Bremen for a time. They abandoned their ancient traditions and self-sufficient lifestyle after they were decimated by the armies ofAkar Kes sell a hundred years ago. Many oftheir kin still roam the tundra, but Caer-Konig and Bremen in particu lar have significant populations ofexceptionally tall men and women descended from the Reghed tribes. Ofcourse, now—four hundred years after the I)inev family first settled on the shores ofLac Diimeshere—most ofthe people ofTen-Towns are here because they were born here, grew up here, and never really considered leaving. They’re accustomed to the cold, and they smile behind their hands at—or openly mock—the weak southern folk who visit their homeland and complain about the weather. Like the hardy lichens and determined reindeer ofthe tundra, residents make a living under the shadow of Kelvin’s Cairn, hunker down to endure the brutal winters, and bring a zesty lust for life to the summers, enjoying what respite they can from the bitter cold. Life in TenTowns is hard work. The people know the value of cooperation,

and neighbors within a town depend on each other every day for survival. A pair ofstrong hands is too valuable a resource to waste, so when criminals are caught and brought to justice, they’re not locked up—they’re put to work for the common good. The friendliness that suffuses each town often stops at the edge ofthat community. The people of other towns aren’t neighbors; they’re competitors for resources. Thus, Caer-I)ineval and Caer-Konig are always squabbling over fishing rights in Lac Dinneshere, and the people ofLonelywood are jeal ous ofthe lumber their forest offers. FISHING THE LAKES Without knucklehead trout, there would be no Ten-Towns. A dramatic statement, perhaps, but it is hard to imagine any pioneers deciding to make a permanent home in Icewind Dale without the bony-headed fish. The trout are a major food source for the people ofTen-Towns, and their hard, smooth bones are tremendously useful. The large, fist-shaped protrusions atop their skulls are well suited to carving, and talented scrimshanders earn a respectable living selling their wares in Bryn Shander and in the south—which is why knucklehead bone is commonly called “white gold” in Icewind Dale. Although the fish’s head is the part best suited for artistic carving, many ofits smaller bones can be carved into sewing needles, arrowheads, fish hooks, fasteners, and similar items. Thus, a single trout (which can reach tip to five feet long) is quite valuable, even leaving aside the meat it provides. Each ofthe ten towns except landlocked Bryn Shander) maintains a fleet offishing vessels. For the most part, fishing is a coinmunal activity. All the larger boats and most of the smaller ones are owned by the towns, not individu als, and the catch likewise belongs to the town, to be shared according to need. Targos and Easthaven, the largest towns after Bryn Shander, have fleets of over a hundred boats. Some people—mostly newcomers to the area who hope to make their fortunes offthe trout—have their own I smaller boats and try to fish the lakes independently. The towns frown on this activity, since it threatens both the trout population and the delicate relationships among the communities, which have carefully divided up fishing rights on the lakes. It’s also dangerous—smaller boats don’t handle the winds as well, and it can be difficult to land a large trout on a small craft. Most small boats stay close to shore, using lines or nets to catch smaller fish. SCRIMSHAW Scrimshaw as it is practiced in Icewind Dale includes a variety oftechniques and styles. The simplest (which is still extremely intricate involves engraving plctures into the smooth surface ofthe bone and inking the engraved lines. More tlwuqli the region was barren and wild, overruii with hunianoids and barbarians and sportingfreque Storms that couldfiatteTl the sturdiest ofbuildings, the lure ofquick wealth brought in peoplefron thefarthest reaches ofthe Realms. - - littlefishes, what troubleyo 1hring”Regis muttered softjj pondering the iron-v ofthe havoc the silveryfisli wreaked on the lives ofthegreedy people ofTen-Towns These ten co?nfllunjtjes owed their very existence to the knucklehead trout, with their oversized, fist-shaped heads and bones the consistency offine ivory. The three lakes were the only spots in the world where the valuablefisl 1were known to swim, and —The Crystal Shard ‘--

. Reaching Icewind Dale requires an arduous trek along poorly maintained roads and through a brutal pass at the westernmost end ofthe Spine ofthe World. The journey from Luskan takes about twenty days— eleven to reach the North/South Pass, three to cross it, and six more to cross the tundra to Bryn Shander. That travel time assumes summer weather in the dale. It’s much harder to cross the pass, let alone the tundra, when winter snows have choked the roads. Ten Trail Ten Trail is the name given to the route typically taken by travelers coIning to Icewind Dale. As its name indicates, it is not a paved road, but merely an earthen path marked by the furrows ofwagon wheels from the caravans that make the trip north. The cold weather, broken ground, and scarcity of places to shelter or resupply make ajourney up Ten Trail arduous at best. Add in the presence of crag cats, yetis, and bandits waiting to ambush wagons laden with trade goods, and one begins to understand why only the bravest, most desperate, or most foolhardy travelers attempt the trek to Icewind Dale. Ten Trail begins at the town ofFireshearjust off the Sea ofSwords and makes its way north to the settlement ofHundelstone, perched on the foothills at the base ofthe Spine ofthe World. Hundelstone marks the end ofthe Northern Means, the larger road that leads northwest from Luskan to the far north. North from Hundelstone, Ten Trail leads up the mountain slopes across the North/South Pass, then wends its way down into the foothills ofIcewind Dale. Before the settling ofBryn Shander, Ten Trail ran all the way to Targos and along the east side of Maer Dualdon. Nowadays, caravans from the south stop mainly in Bryn Shander, so as far as most people are concerned, Ten Trail stops there, too. The North/South Pass The gateway into Icewind Dale is the North/South Pass, where Ten Trail straddles the Spine ofthe World. There—in good weather—caravans labor for about three days to cross over the mountain range. The pass is known for dangerous storms, which can dump enough snow in a matter ofhours to bury a horse up to its withers, and for vicious winds, which tear the cloaks from travelers’ necks and sting their flesh. Reports ofundead in the mountain pass usu ally turn out to be sightings ofill-fated travelers who died ofexposure, their corpses desiccated by the bone-dry winds. Travelers who attempt the passage without the aid ofa guide are advised to obtain a map showing the locations ofthe way stations that dot the pass—sturdy lean-tos. stocked with warm blankets and dry wood, where people can wait out a storm. But those seeking refuge should take care: Yetis sometimes lurk near the stations, checking them every few days the way a crab fisher checking his pots. BRYN SHANDER Population 1,200 “What’s Bryn Shander like,ye ask? It’s sixty score humans, packed together likefish in a barrel an’ smelling about as sweet. Its roads are paved with the muck o’ the cart horsesye’re constantly rubbing shoulders with, an’ its alehouses arefilled with scoundrels that no other city in Faeriin would have. An’ after three weeks on Ten Trail, you’ll swear there was no lovelier sight!” —Beorne Steelstrike, caravan master When travelers following Ten Trail cross the Spine of the World into Icewind Dale, their first sight is ofthe circular wall ofBryn Shander rising from a distant hilltop, with Kelvin’s Cairn looming in the distance. The twinkling lights ofthe town’s inns promise refuge from the lashing winds, and the smoke from its many hearths portends warmth and sustenance. After they have passed through Bryn Shander’s gates, travelers are swept up in the bustle ofa prospering frontier town. Here, caravans from the south converge with traders from across Icewind 1)ale to swap goods and rumors in the busy market square. Fishers, trappers, traders, and sellswords rub elbows in the town’s taprooms, and gruffdwarves, wideeyed travelers, and skulking ne’er-do-wells wander its streets. Many ofthe folk who come to Icewind Dale never leave the relative safety ofTen-Towns, and ofthose, many have never ventured beyond Bryn Shander. - _____ sophisticated scrimshanders carve the bone into small reliefs or statuettes, sometimes inking these as well to ensure that the details are clear. Accomplished scrimshanders are respected in Ten-Towns. Several well-known town speakers have been scrimshanders, elected to their positions largely because their trade allowed them to travel freely to Bryn Shander. GETTING TO TEN-TOWNS -. ---4; - , - ----

Although it’s true that the dale has a great deal more to see than its central town, it’s also true that fortune and adventure aplenty wait within Bryn Shander’s sheltering walls. Trading Hub Bryn Shander is the heart ofTen-Towns, and trade is its lifeblood. Caravans from the Sword Coast, trad ers from Ironmaster, dwarves from Kelvin’s Cairn, fishers and crafters from Ten-Towns, and sometimes hunters from the barbarian tribes ofthe tundra all meet in the market square. Here, the people ofIcewind I)ale ply their wares, hawking the scrimshaw and raw knucklehead ivory that is much esteemed by those ofthe southern lands. In return, the southern caravans bring rich dyes, hardwood from the forests ofthe heartlands, dried herbs and spices, finely woven textiles, fruits, wines, and many other com modities that are rare in the frozen north. All these items sell for a premium in the market, and travelers who are accustomed to the plenti ful goods and relative bounty ofplaces such as Waterdeep and Neverwinter are often shocked by the exorbitant prices that even common goods cornmand in Bryn Shander. Those without deep pockets soon run short on coin, which contributes to the town’s mercenary quality—many ofthe sellswords here live hand to mouth and take anyjob for pay. The Tenth Town Although Bryn Shander is the largest ofthe ten towns, it is also the youngest. Originally it was the site ofa lone cabin on the trail to Maer Dualdon where caravanners, weary from their trip over the pass, would rest by a warm fire before continuing to their intended destination—usually Targos, the most accessible settlement in those days. Fishers from the towns often came to the hilltop cabin to meet the caravans as they arrived, eager for news ofthe outside world. But when scrimshanders from Termalaine began bringing their wares to the cabin to entice the caravans to make the longer trek to their town, they unwittingly ignited a trade war. First Targos and then the other towns began sending their own traders to the cabin, fearful oflosing any advantage to the others. Outbuildings were constructed to hold the extra visitors, and as the towns started establishing semipermanent presences on the hill, more businesses grew up to provide goods and services for the burgeoning population. Finally, after a feud among traders from four towns ended Fortunately for them, the constant need for caravan escorts, as well as protection for the expeditions that hope to find riches in the wild hills and frozen mountains at the Spine ofthe World, means there is never a shortage ofwork to be had in Bryn Shander. -----

,. in violence, all ofthe communities agreed to send speakers to the new outpost to regulate the business being carried on there. The owner ofone ofthe local businesses acted as speaker for the outpost, and thus Bryn Shander had its first council meeting. Walls Provide Refuge The people ofthe south know Bryn Shander for its market fthey know ofthe place at all), but the people ofTen-Towns know it for its walls. Despite being a simple palisade, the walls ofBryn Shander loom as large in the minds ofTen-Towners as those of any dwarven citadel, for at times they have been all that has kept the people ofthe dale from being anni hilated by barbarian raids or rampaging beasts. The walls stand some thirty feet high and are defined by two concentric rings ofwooden poles, the gap between them filled with dirt and rubble. The outer ring ofpoles rises above the top ofthe wall, providing a rampart for defenders stationed on the wooden-planked walkway. The wall’s hinged gates are fifteen feet tall and can be barred from the inside with heavy wood beams banded with iron. The town’s location plays a role in its ability to withstand assault. Built on one ofthe tallest foothills south ofKelvin’s Cairn, Bryn Shander has a com manding view of any approach from the north the direction from which attacks on Ten-Towns usually come), and an attacking force must climb the hillside under fire from archers before it can assault the walls. Moreover, barbarians or other foes from the north must approach Bryn Shander by way ofBre men’s Run or Icewind Pass, and then advance past the towns near Maer Dualdon or Lac 1)inneshere, providing ample opportunity for strategically placed ambush parties to outflank the enemy forces or harry their movements. It was this strategy that TenTowns employed when the barbarian tribes allied under King Heafstaag ofthe Elk Tribe in an attempt to occupy Bryn Shander, resulting in the decima tion ofthe barbarians in general and the Elk Tribe in particular. That victory, however, was the result of a degree ofcooperation between the towns that has not been seen before or since, so the likelihood of Ten-Towns successfully employing the same strategy in the face ofnew dangers is slim. Sellswords Welcome The defense ofBryn Shander is overseen by the sher iff, Markham Southwell, who is appointed by the town’s speaker and serves at her pleasure. Respon sible for training the town’s militia and keeping the peace, the sheriffis authorized to maintain a standing force oftwenty guards (typically equipped with longswords, daggers, and studded leather armor). In times ofneed, the town can raise a fighting force ofabout four hundred—mostly townsfolk outfitted with spears and longbows, although there are nearly always some adventurers in town who can be paid or persuaded to help by taking up arms. SheriffMarkham is empowered to hire adventur ers for missions undertaken in the town’s defense (loosely defined as anything that keeps trade coming through Bryn Shander’s gates. Such expeditions are meant to be underwritten by the town’s exchequer and therefore require the approval ofthe speaker. Conniving merchants or other interested parties often ask the sheriffto post ajob for which they are willing to provide the funding (along with a small administrative fee for Markham, naturally). In such cases, unknowing adventurers take jobs that they believe to be official town business, doing dangerous and often unscrupulous work—the benefit ofwhich they might otherwise be inclined to question—all the while unwittingly serving the aims of an unknown employer. But the trade to Bryn Shander keeps flowing, and most times neither the speaker nor the adventurers are the wiser. Goods and Services Anyone who walks along the central road through Bryn Shander notices many inns, taverns, and trad ing posts, the largest and most profitable ofwhich ring the central market square. Geldenstag’s Rest, one ofthe oldest establishments in town, is run by Myrtle, a gray-haired widow who took over the inn after her husband was killed in the crossfire of a dispute between two mercenary groups that had been staying there. Myrtle now makes it her business to know everyone else’s busi ness, asking guests a lot ofquestions about what they’re up to each day. The inn’s accommodations i - , I. I I . _*1 - . ,—‘r

p _ I, • ‘ ;_-çi • _ ; r ‘ : •-t-: are lackluster—the small rooms are furnished with only a stool, a chamber pot, and two cots with dirty furs thrown over them. It might seem like the kind ofplace that would attract lowlifes and troubleinak ers, but Myrtle’s pestering tends to drive away people with secrets to keep. The absence ofthat element from its clientele makes Geldenstag’s Rest a popular destination for travelers who aren’t looking for too much excitement during their stay in Bryn Shander. The Hooked Knucklehead is another longstanding inn, and it caters to the scrimshanders and traders who come from the other towns to do business. The innkeeper, Barton, was a trader from Targos who stayed at the Hooked Knucklehead many times before offering to buy out the previous owner. The accommodations are meager, and the few pri vate rooms are bitterly cold at night. Most ofthe clientele sleeps in the spacious common room, near the large stone hearth. The prices are a little more reasonable here than at the town’s other inns. The Northlook is the inn most frequented by mercenaries and adventurers, and as such it’s the rowdiest and most dangerous place to stay in Bryn Shander. At the same time, its taproom is the best place in all ofTen-Towns to get leads on profitable ventures, along with the latest news and rumors. The proprietor, a retired sellsword who goes by the name Scramsax, takes advantage ofthe high hopes and good fortunes ofhis customers by charging the most exorbitant rates in town. Knowing full well the cycles of an adventurer’s life, Scramsax often cuts a break for customers who are betweenjobs, allowing them to stay on credit and then presenting them with a bill inflated by interest charges as soon as they make their next payday. Those who don’t pay discover that the old mercenary still remembers how to handle a blade, and that he doesn’t take “no money” for an answer. Kelvin’s Comfort is one ofthe most popular tav ems in town, owing to its extensive stock of dwarven ales and brandies. Although the common room is bedecked with dwarven craft ofBattlehammer make, most ofthe liquors are imported from Mira bar, on the other side ofthe Spine ofthe World. The one local specialty ofnote is the brew brought up from Good Mead. Caravanners who have plenty of coin often come here, as do visiting dwarves from Kelvin’s Cairn. The proprietor is a dwarfnamed Ogden Flamebeard, who has a temper as fiery as his signature drink—a Mirabarian rotgut he gets for cheap and rebottles as Flamebeard’s Firebrandy (reselling it at a sizable markup. In his youth, Ogden worked in many ofthe famous northern mines, and he has contacts not only in Mirabar but also in Ironmaster and Mithral Hall. Rendaril’s Emporium is the largest trade house in Bryn Shander, on the site ofthe original cabin around which the town sprang up. The entrance facing onto the town square opens into the storefront, where visitors can view an assortment ofthe finest goods for sale in all ofTen-Towns: fishing rods fashioned from elven yew, yeti-skin coats with scrimshaw buttons, mithral fisithooks, axe heads and daggers crafted by the dwarves of Kelvin’s Cairn, and more. Around the back side ofthe building is the entrance for wholesalers, where caravan traders offload their stock and local adventurers sell pelts and tusks collected on their travels. The owner, Rendaril, is a half-elffrom Waterdeep. The shrewd business sense he developed in the City of Splendors has served him well in this remote corner ofthe world; more coin passes through his hands in a week than most other merchants in Bryn Shander see in a season. Blackiron Blades is a small shop and smithy just north ofthe main square. Rather than attempt to compete with the quality ofthe dwarf-crafted weapons from Kelvin’s Cairn, the smith, Garn, has found his niche manufacturing the cheapest blades in Ten-Towns. His sister, Elza, runs the shop and keeps it profitable. When she observed that Garn’s low prices were attracting fortune-seekers coming up Ten Trail whose pockets were thin after the cost ofmaking the journey, and who were frequently illprepared for the hardships oflife in Icewind I)ale, Elza began selling adventuring supplies—rations, cold-weather gear. ice picks, and snowshoes—alongside her brother’s wares at the shop. Blackiron Blades is now well known as a one-stop shop for adventurers and other travelers. Nonetheless, most ofthe town’s veteran sellswords eschew Garn’s smithcraft, and jokes told about hapless newcomers to Icewind I)ale often end with the line “. . . an’ ‘e was carrying a Blackiron blade, to boot!” 14 :‘ ;j. . .,4 trA. * -. i_ - \ j

Duvessa Shane Speaker ofBryn Shctnder I)uvessa Shane is the daughter of a trader from Waterdeep who settled in Bryn Shander after falling in love with a local tavern server. Having inherited her mother’s sharp tongue and her father’s talent for negotiation, it seemed unsurprising in retrospect when Duvessa secured the position oftown speaker— the first woman in Bryn Shander to do so. When she showed up at the next council meeting and called it to order, the other speakers bristled at her temerity, and a few warned her that, as the newest member ofthe council, she would be told when her opinion was wanted. What followed was a tongue-lashing so severe that even Crannoc of Caer-Dineval was left chagrined. Since that day, Duvessa has led the coun cii as ably as any speaker in recent memory. Though she is a grown woman, Duvessa’s slight frame and sparkling gray eyes lend her a girlish air. She dresses much as her father did, in shirtsleeves and trousers, with a vest or coat in the latest fashion. Local Landmarks Aside from its many shops and public houses, Bryn Shander has several other buildings of note. The town hail is the largest building bordering the central square. Most days, this long, open hail serves as an extension ofthe town square’s market, although it is reserved for feasting on various holy days and other notable events. The hall is also where refugees from other villages stay in times of emer gency when they seek shelter in Bryn Shander. The armory is situatedjust offthe central square. Only the speaker and the town sheriffhave keys to this building, which stores arms for the militia. The council hail, near the southwest gate, is a warehouse where the speakers ofTen-Towns hold their meetings. The building is nondescript but iden tifiable by the heated discussions often overheard taking place inside. The speaker’s palace is the private residence of the town speaker. Located on the south side, this is the only building in Bryn Shander that stands two stories high. (Most ofthe structures are sunk into the ground to avoid exposure to the winds, which are not entirely blocked by the city’s walls.) Fashioned by dwarves out ofcut stone, with a pitched slate roof and a colonnade in front, the palace is so out ofplace among the squat, rough wood dwellings that it looks as ifit had been magically transported here from some other region ofFaerftn. The House ofthe Triad is Bryn Sharider’s larg est place ofworship, and the only one that truly deserves to be called a temple. An impressive edifice built by the dwarves ofKelvin’s Cairn, the temple stands about halfway between the southwest gate and the central market. When it was first built, it honored the three gods known as the Triad: Tyr, the god ofjustice; Torm, the god ofduty and loyalty; and Ilmater, the god of endurance in the face ofsuffering. Tyr is said to be dead, though he still has a handful of followers in town, and the holy days most commonly celebrated in the temple are those ofllmater. The promise ofdivine aid for those who endure suffering appeals to the people ofTen-Towns, and visitors from other towns often stop in the House ofthe Triad before going about their other business. The shrine ofAmaunator, located near the small northeastern market square, is a converted house that serves as a modest gathering place for worshipers ofthe god ofthe sun. Considering that the sun vanishes for two months at a time every winter, it’s a wonder that Amaunator has any wor shipers at all in Icewind Dale. The priest who established this shrine, a retired adventuring cleric from Cormyr named Mithann, has a strong personality and speaks a powerful message ofhope and . c- -.

rebirth. She calls Amaunator by old names—the Morninglord and the Glory ofDawn—that evoke a different image from that ofthe stern, rigid sun god who is worshiped farther south. When the sun first rises from the long winter twilight late in the month ofHaininer, Mithann leads the god’s most popular festival—a great feast in the town hall. Mithann takes a great interest in adventurers who come to Bryn Shander, largely because of her past but also because she genuinely cares about the people ofTen-Towns. She has seen too many socalled heroes try to exploit the citizens ofthe region, so she keeps a close eye on the ones who seem shady or selfish. On the other hand, she gives as much aid as she can muster to those who seem genuinely interested in helping the people ofthe dale. Mithann was a member oftwo different adventur ing companies with Isteval, a paladin ofAmaunator who has since retired to I)aggerford. Two oftheir companions from the first company, the Knights of the Unicorn, have settled in Baldur’s Gate, where characters might have encountered them ifthey experienced the events ofMurder in Baldur’s Gate. EASTHAVEN Population 850 “I remember when the Eastway was naught but a couple o’ ruts in the mud leadin’ to some shanties on the south side 0’ the lac. Now look at the place! Seems likeye can’t turn around without trippin’ over a new bunch o’ buildings, and the townjust keeps getting’ bigger—along with me profits.” —Beorne Steelstrike The scent offreshly sawed pine hangs in the air around the outskirts ofEasthaven, where new construction pushes the town’s perimeter ever outward. In the center, spacious shops, inns, and taverns solicit locals and travelers alike, their brightly painted signs clamoring for attention as loudly as the fish hawkers down on the docks. Grizzled trappersjust returned from the wilds sell their pelts in stores that also offer the latest Waterdhavian fashions, and prosperous merchants step over penniless fishers in the town’s main boulevard. Boom Times Walking into Easthaven is like stepping into Icewind I)ale’s past—the place is a picture ofthe boomtown way oflife that gripped Ten-Towns centuries ago, when the cities ofthe south first got “white gold fever.” In the generations since, the other towns have settled into a predictable, ifnot always quiet, rhythm oflife. Not so Easthaven. Having been overshadowed by the more established towns on Lac Dinneshere in the region’s initial rush, Easthaven languished while its neighbors thrived. But with the paving of the Eastway, more and more trade began to flow into Easthaven until it overtook Caer-Konig and Caer-Dineval to become the most prosperous town on the lake. Now, it rivals Targos and Bryn Shander in size. Easthaven tends to attract people who are just starting out in Ten-Towns, as well as those who want to start over—the place seems to welcome all comers. It is a magnet for fortune-seekers and the con artists who prey on them. From honorable warriors to unscrupulous merchants, from uncouth woodsmen to worldly travelers, the town displays a striking assortment ofthe best and worst that life in Icewind Dale has to offer. Anything goes in Easthaven, according to a local saying—and that’s usually true. Contested Waters Although Easthaven’s fishing fleet is now larger than that ofCaer-Konig and Caer-Dineval com bined, its boats are relegated to plying only a small -

fraction ofthe lake thanks to an accord passed by the council back when Easthaven was a tenth ofits present size. In those days, the fleets ofCaer-Konig and Caer-Dineval dominated the waters ofLac 1)inneshere, and the accord was brokered as an attempt to placate the two rivals and keep them from each other’s throats. The rivalry would not be so easily undone, however, and the agreement was quickly forgotten until a few years ago, when the speakers ofCaer-Konig and Caer-Dineval invoked its terms as a way to restrict the operations of Easthav en’s growing fleet offishing boats. Easthaven’s speaker, Danneth Waylen, has peti tioned several times to renegotiate the outdated agreement, but Caer-Konig and Caer-Dineval have so far stood united behind it. I)anneth also brought the matter before the council in Bryn Shander, but to no avail. Easthaven’s growth has cannibalized trade from the other towns, and both Targos and Termalaine have felt the effect. As a result, they support Caer Konig’s and Caer-Dineval’s claims to the waters ofLac Dinneshere. With Bryn Shander remaining carefully noncommittal and the towns ofRedwaters declining to get involved, only Bremen and Lonelywood have spoken out in support ofEasthaven. Meanwhile, Easthaven’s boats are in competition with one another for the best fishing spots in the crowded waters. Fights over contested catches are common, and accidents have wrecked several ships and resulted in a few deaths. Some ofthe bolder fishers operate in the northern waters claimed by Caer-Konig and Caer-Dineval, taking whatever haul they can before they are chased offby the other towns’ boats. Speaker Waylen knows it is only a matter oftime before one ofthese incursions is met with violence. He hopes to find a solution to the problem before that happens. Rags and Riches With the ongoing dispute over fishing rights on the lake, Easthaven’s fisherfolk are suffering. For many ofthein, fishing is all they know, and there simply aren’t enough fish in the small patch ofwater the town is allotted. Inevitably, the largest boats and the most experienced crews pull most ofthe fish out of the water, while everyone else scrambles for what’s left. Many fishers barely catch enough to feed their families, let alone have anything left over to sell. Many more come back after sunset with empty nets. Despite this state ofaffairs, more people show up every season hoping to make their fortune in Easthaven. The town’s reputation for opportunity is greater than the reality, yet the image keeps drawing people there even as it exacerbates the problems. Still, the prospects in Easthaven aren’t entirely illusory. Many people have made a comfortable living for themselves—just not fishers or fortuneseekers. With the influx ofresidents, Easthaven’s merchants, innkeepers, and tavern owners pull coin from purses like trout from the lakes.

Then, too, there are those who profit from the town’s problems, such as the gang ofboys who are paid by fishing crews to hold the best spots at the docks until the boats come back at night. This arrangement allows those crews to stay out later than other boats and still be first out to the good fishing spots the next day. The boys make a show of compet ing to hold places along the dock for their clients, but they actually conspire to bid up the prices on the best spots, then split the profits every night after dark. Goods and Services Cairn’s Crossing is the oldest ofEasthaven’s inns, which is to say it has the most chinks in its walls for the night winds to blow through. Still, most ofthe caravanners who come to town stay here out ofhabit, so the inn does a respectable business. The innkeeper, Vie Witters, is stout, gray-haired, and tough as nails, and she shows no sign ofslowing down despite her age. Many ofthe inn’s visitors assume that she’s a widow, but in fact she’s married to a local fisher who still goes out on the lake every day. They hardly see each other, though, because Vie won’t let him sleep in the inn ifhe reeks oftrout—which he always does. The White Lady Inn standsjust across from the harbor, overlooking the lake. The inn is named for a local legend about the ghost ofLac Dinneshere (see the sidebar on page 21 and capitalizes on the morbid fascination generated by its eponymous tale. A haifling bard named Rinaldo works the inn’s taproom on most nights, recounting the titular story for the benefit of any newcomers and then segueing into hair-raising tales drawn (he swears) from the true accounts ofthe many adventurers who have stayed at the White Lady Inn. Rinaldo knows how to pull in a crowd, often loudly proclaiming that “this next tale is not fit for the ears ofwomen, children, or those oftender heart” whenever he spies passersby in the street, reeling them in like fish on a line. On the other hand, his employer—a wiry, white-haired old man named Bartaban—seems perennially bored by the haifling’s tales. But the dour innkeeper is acutely aware ofthe value Rinaldo adds to his establishment and strives to make himself as invisible to his guests as possible, the better to let the bard’s tales work their magic. The Wet Trout is the largest and loudest tavern in Easthaven. A great chimney situated squarely in the building’s center has hearths on either side to warm the tavern’s two common rooms. The owner, Henrick, mans the bar at one end ofthe tavern while his wife, Bitholde, runs the kitchens at the other. The two frequently shout raunchyjeers at each other from across the floor, which always get a hearty laugh from the assembled patrons and lend to the ribald atmosphere the tavern is known for. Banrock’s Mithral Pot has the distinction of being one ofthe few establishments in Ten-Towns to have a reputation that extends outside Icewind Dale. Just walking into this tavern’s common room, with its distinctive dark wood paneling and cozy booths, is enough to set one’s mouth watering. Visitors from as far away as Baldur’s Gate come here to try Banrock’s pottage, which the dwarfcooks in his signature pot. Running the tavern is a labor oflove for Banrock, who could retire on the value ofhis inithral cookware alone, but the plump, ruddy-faced dwarfwould rather spend his days cheerfully bustling from booth to booth chatting with travelers. His longest-standing customer is a wizard from BlackstaffTower in Waterdeep, who comes to the tavern every solstice to renew the wards that protect the kitchen against thieves—and, ofcourse, to sample the pottage. Rurden’s Armory is an outlet where adventur ers can buy dwarven blades and mail forged in the valley below Kelvin’s Cairn. The shop’s interior looks like that ofa keep preparing for siege—racks ofswords and axes stand to one side, while suits of ‘%_ ¶\c* t4 ‘ %; — . ‘I’.. ‘- . s. - ‘ THE EASTWAY The Eastway is the only paved road in lcewind Dale, and it runs from Bryn Shander straight across to Easthaven Its construction linked Lac Dinneshere to the caravans that came through Bryn Shander, resulting in the explosive growth of Easthaven and a gradual shift in trade away from Maer Dualdon. On many occasions, the people ofTargos and Termalaine have considered improving the road north from Bryn Shander to encourage more traffic, but the mistrust between the two towns has prevented them from cooperating long enough to bring the project to fruition. _ 1 a.•s . , :

chain mail lie stacked on crates to the other (and the crates hold pieces ofplate armor packed in wood chips). Piles ofhelms stand alongside the crates, halberds lean in the corner, and shields and crossbows hang on every inch ofthe room’s walls. The building’s heavy, reinforced door, complete with a thick bar, rounds out the image ofa garrison; only a painted iron sign propped against the back wall identifies the shop as a place ofbusiness. Since none ofthe weapons and armor are made to order, buyers often have to adjust to equipment that’s heavier than they’re accustomed to—blistered palms and aching shoulders are common complaints among first-time customers. Even so, the quality ofthe merchandise speaks for itself, and the dwarfshopkeep, Rurden, is especially helpful when showing buyers how to alter their swings or angle their bodies for an incom ing blow to take advantage oftheir new purchases. The sellswords who frequent his store have a saying: Once you go dwarven, you never go back. Danneth Waylen is the earnest, iffretful, speaker of Easthaven. He never wanted the position, but he was nominated for it when the town’s business leaders, after nearly tearing Easthaven apart in their contests to claim the title after the last speaker’s death, finally decided to compromise on a neutral party. 1)anneth’s humility and forthrightness made him an ideal candidate, and his sense ofduty precluded him from declining the nomination. Just coming into middle age, with green eyes and tousled auburn locks that often garner him unwanted romantic attention, Danneth owns two ofthe town’s most profitable fishing vessels, and he was a fisher himselfbefore turning his attentions to the town’s myriad problems. He tends to be soft-spo ken, though his voice carries an undertone ofsteely determination. LOCAL LANDMARKS Three areas of interest lie outside Easthaven. Silvanus’s temple is a grove ofwhite birch trees on a hillside overlooking Lac Dinneshere, about two miles west oftown. Here, a small coven of the nature god’s followers gather every month at the full moon. They are led by a self-styled druid (one of the human residents of Easthaven) who teaches them that the town’s sprawl is a blight on the land and that someday Silvanus will call on them to help restore the area to its pristine beauty. The Redrun is the stream that empties Lac Dinneshere into Redwaters. Normally a series of spills that are easy to cross, the stream becomes a torrent of frothing whitewater during late spring. With all the competition on the lake, locals have taken to walking down the Redrun and fishing along its banks. But twice in the past fortnight, locals have gone to fish the Redrun and did not return. The other townsfolk assume they were killed by wild beasts, but no one is brave enough to investigate. A memorial outside the southwest gate com memorates a battle between Tiago Baenre and the balor Errtu, who came to Icewind Dale seeking Drizzt Do’Urden. A circle of blackened ground is surrounded by a rock wall, the center ofwhich has a stone statue ofTiago and a plaque that reads “On this spot did Master Tiago slay the demon. And the snows will cover it nevermore.” And the scorched earth remains untouched by snow even in winter. LAC DINNESHERE Lac Dinneshere’s waters begin in the tundra alongside Kelvin’s Cairn and stretch south to the forest that borders the banks ofRedwaters. To those who look down on it from the slopes ofthe mountain, the lake’s broad expanse seems like a great shard ofsky that fell to the earth, dotted with tiny boats that tra verse its icy blue firmament. From the water’s edge, the imagery no longer seems quite so apt. Frigid winds blowing in offthe Reghed Glacier whip across the lake, its surface chopping with waves that stand at odds with the serene sky above. The lake does seem to reflect the moods ofthe heavens; it blushes pink on tranquil evenings, turns steel-gray when storms approach, and blanches white during quiet snows. People who have spent their lives along Lac Dinneshere don’t bother looking up to see what the weather will be— theyjust look to the lake. Though as large as Maer Dualdon, Lac Dinneshere is shallower and thus has a smaller population ofknucklehead trout (but enough to keep the combined fishing fleets ofCaer-I)ineval and Caer-Konig in business). The lake’s ecosystem is also less diverse than that ofMaer Dualdon. The winds from the glacier stunt what trees manage to grow along the shore and drive avians to the more shel tered areas along Maer Dualdon and Redwaters, and the lake’s rocky banks prevent seasonal flooding and forestall the formation ofsandy bars capable ofsupporting cold-water clams and the otters that feast on the clams. Danneth Waylen Speaker ofEasthaven --- - ‘.‘-- . ,-.- -- - ,-- .

Still, the lure ofthe lake’s “white gold” is enough to keep hundreds ofpeople living here in small cornmunities carved into the steep, rocky banks, huddled against the wind and cold. Caer-Dineval Population 250 “When lastI visited Caer-Dineval, Ifound the town speaker livin’ in an oldfort at the top o’ the road, perched up there like a lord in ‘is castle. What’s he lord oJ I’d like to know. A little pride is well an’good, but never will I understand the vanity o’ men!” —Beorne Steelstrike In generations past, travelers to Caer-Dineval had to make their way east from the hills around Bryn Shander and then cut north, following the rocky shore ofLac Dinneshere until after several weary hours they spied a small fortress (the “caer” for which the town is named) jutting up from the prominence where it overlooks the lake. These days, visitors to the town can take the Eastway to Easthaven, and then hire a ferry to take them across the lake to Caer-Dineval. Only those who have no coin to spare, or who have more than a small cart’s worth ofgoods to transport, still take the rude trail that wends its way up the lake’s western shore. Whether arriving “by land or by lac,” visitors are immediately confronted by the fortifications for which the town is famous: its clifftop caer and the now-ruined watchtower at the mouth ofthe harbor. Most ofthe town’s buildings line the path that winds down the steep slope from the caer to the harbor, perched on the rocky face like cliffside nests. Newer structures have been built out along the approach coming up the western shore. The effect is that visi tors enter Caer-Dineval in procession, filing up the narrow street past the buildings on either side, from which the residents watch with a mixture ofinterest and suspicion. Iftravelers do not turn aside into a shop or tavern, the road brings them to the top ofthe bluffand deposits them at the gates ofthe caer. The Bastion of Lac Dinneshere :•- THE GHOST OF LAC DINNESHERE Legend has it that an explorer once came to Easthaven to find his fortune after leaving his young wife behind in Luskan, promising to return to her a rich man. The adventurer met with many hazards on his journey, but the thought of his wife waiting for him always gave him the strength to persevere. Finally, after having made his fortune, the man sought to take the next caravan home—only to have it arrive in Easthaven bearing a note from his wife, written from her sickbed in the hours before her death. The young man never returned home. He stayed in Easthaven, where his wife’s ghost sometimes walked out along the lake, calling for her husband to return to her. Finally, one night when he heard her calling, he loaded his fortune onto a boat and rowed out to the middle ofthe lake, where he was finally reunited with his beloved—a rich man,just as he had promised. Locals say the woman’s ghost still wanders the lake on some nights; they call her the White Lady. Rumor has it that she haunts the spot where her hus band met his end. A few brave souls have followed the vision ofthe White Lady in hopes offinding the adventurer’s sunken treasure, but none of them has returned. The caer was built over four hundred years ago by the Dinev family, before Ten-Towns existed as anything more than a few scattered camps of explor ers living offthe land. A displaced Cormyrean family whose sire was purportedly ofnoble extrac tion, the Dinevs built their castle on the cliffs over Lac I)inneshere in a bid to claim sovereignty over the unsettled lands oflcewind Dale. When the

castle—dubbed Caer-Dineval—was completed, the workers and their families settled in the outbuild ings they had constructed farther down the cliff face, along with the families ofthe few retainers the Dinevs had brought with them. Over the next several years, many explorers in the region came to see the caer for themselves, and some decided to trade their tents in the hunting and fishing camps for a cozy cottage in the shadow ofthe walls ofCaer-I)ineval. No sooner had the small town taken hold than a marauding tribe of orcs swept down from the tundra to put it to the torch. Rather than flee their newfound home, the residents rushed to the clifftop to seek refuge in the caer. But the Dinevs, alarmed by the size ofthe orc tribe and the speed ofits approach, barred the caer’s gates and refused to open them. The orcs fell upon the stranded people and slaugh tered them to the last one. The Dinevs survived the initial assault, thanks to their redoubt, but after three weeks ofconfinement in the caer, they were so weakened by hunger that they were unable to resist when the orc raiders scaled their walls. Thus, their brief rule in Icewind Dale came to a bloody end. The caer remained in the orcs’ possession for the next several years, although it changed hands a few times during that period as factions among the orcs fought each other for control ofthe castle. By the end ofthat time, the small camps ofhumans in the dale had grown larger and more numerous, and the future inhabitants ofTen-Towns decided that they could ill afford to have a fortified encampment oforcs so close to their communities. For the first time in their history, warriors from the disparate human settlements banded together. They marched on Caer-Dineval and drove the orcs from its walls. The victors claimed the castle, its lands, and the lake beyond for their own, and those with families brought them there to settle. The descendants of those proud people live there to this day and keep alive the memory oftheir ancestors’ deeds. Today, the caer’s keep is a glorified residence for the town’s speaker, Crannoc Siever. Although its sturdy wooden fortifications are still capable ofwithstanding the attacks oforc and barbarian raiders, the people ofCaer-I)ineval remember the grim lesson of the Dinevs. They flee from incursions to seek shel ter behind the better-defended and better-supplied walls ofBryn Shander. Goods and Services Dinev’s Rest, situated at the low end oftown on the lakeside road, is Caer-Dineval’s inn, and one ofthe first buildings that travelers reach ifthey arrive on foot. Built in a shallow dell a little way back from the cliffline, the inn is spacious compared to Caer-Dine val’s other buildings and blessedly sheltered from the winds that buffet the rest ofthe town. Inside, visitors sit in the common room around the central fire pit, swapping stories about their travels; the walls behind them are adorned with faded banners bearing the Dinev coat ofarms. The innkeeper is Kadie, a vivacious young romaim with fiery red hair. Her father was the previous speaker ofCaer-Dineval, and as a child she lived with him and her brothers in the caer. Kadie speaks about her town with pride amid can tell visitors all about the history ofthe caer. She doesn’t miss living there—the keep, as she’ll readily relate, is too drafty—and she doesn’t think Crannoc has done poorly by the town, but Kadie is not bashful about observing that the current speaker doesn’t listen to folks as much as lie ought to . . . not like her father did. The Uphill Climb is a tavern perched at the top ofthe approach to the caer, with spectacular views ofthe lake and the docks below. Although it has a solid core oflocal patrons, the Climb also caters to the town’s more upscale clientele—well-to-do travelers and merchants who have coin to spend on more thanjust beer amid fish chowder. The proprietor, a ruggedly handsome fellow named Roark, takes pains to stock a variety offoodstuffs from Bryn Shander’s market, and lie always buys the best brews out of Good Mead. The tavern has a private dining area where the speaker ofCaer-Dineval meets with merchants, adventurers, or anyone else who has important business with die town. The intimate atmo sphere is only occasionally ruined by the cheers from the front room when patrons from the dockside tavern finish their nightly footrace up the cliffside road to the Climb’s front door, usually followed by the sounds of retching. The last runner through the door traditionally buys a round ofdrinks for the house. Culver’s isn’t really a shop—it’s a house, amid its resident, Culver Ailsen, isn’t so niuch a merchant as he is a collector. An aging widower with no children, Culver keeps himselfcomnpany with the niany books, maps, and curiosities he has collected over the years. Whenever traveling merchants come through town, Culver is one ofthe first to introduce himseif—shak ing their hands, asking their story, and then getting to the serious work ofporing over their inventory. Culver has a particular interest in the history of Ten-Towns and Icewind Dale, and he eagerly buys anything connected with the accounts and letters he has read. Culver doesn’t restrict himselfto historical memorabilia—he picks up anything that interests him, whether it’s a halfling stick-amid-ball game or a finely etched dwarven dagger. Because ofhis tendency to acquire all manner ofodds amid ends, the locals stop --‘-- -,

\ ¶rw by Culver’s anytime they need something they can’t get from one ofthe town’s crafters. As a result ofhis voracious reading, Culver knows a bit about nearly everything in the dale—knowledge that he will share with those who care to listen (he prefers to talk over a pint at the Uphill Climb). In particular, Culver has read several accounts ofAkar Kessell’s war against Ten-Towns a century ago, and the relics he has acquired from the Battle ofIcewind Dale are his most prized possessions. Crannoc Siever Speaker ofCaer-Dineval Crannoc Siever is an able sailor and fisher known for his hot temper. Despite his bellicose nature, Crannoc is not prone to violence. Those who know him well understand that belligerence is just his heavy-handed way of avoiding conflict—he would rather shout others into silent agreement than physi cally fight or debate with them. Because most people are easily cowed by his theatrics, Crannoc has never learned how to negotiate, so he frequently finds himselfat a disadvantage when he deals with Duvessa Shane, the speaker ofBryn Shander. Crannoc wears his dark hair pulled back, and his weathered face seems stretched taut. Though he is not particularly tall, his thick arms and chest lend weight to his bullying remarks. He speaks in a perpetual shout, except when he has been intimidated into sputtering silence by Duvessa. Caer-Konig Population 200 “I remember i pair ofdwctrflasses in Mircthctr—sis ters, they were. Couldn’t stand each other, and always fightin Funny thing was, they were exactly alike! Thats (‘aer-Koni(q an’ Caer-1)ineval to a tee. Too busyfightin’ over their dfferences to realize how much they 8ot in common. Ah, well. Every time theyfouqht, I’d be havin’ to O an’ comfort one or th’ other of’ern. The sisters, I mean.” —Beorne Steelstrike Perched precariously between the slopes of Kelvin’s Cairn and the waters ofLac Dinneshere is the town of Caer-Konig, its terraced rows ofhouses climbing up the lake’s edge like the steps ofan amphitheater. Visitors sailing in on the ferry from Easthaven or Caer-1)ineval canjust make out the crumbled ruins ofthe caer that gave the town its name littering the slopes above the last row ofhouses. Although it’s possible to get to Caer-Konig by fol lowing the trail along the lakeside, only the most committed caravanners bother to do so. Most people come by way ofthe ferry, ifthey come at all— Caer-Konig being considered, as some call it, “the poor man’s Caer-l)ineval.” (Natives of Caer-Konig, naturally, charge their brethren in Caer-T)ineval with coining that turn ofphrase.) Only two groups visit the town with regularity. The first is adventur ers, who use Caer-Konig as a base ofoperations for excursions into Kelvin’s Cairn. The second group is the dwarves ofthe valley, who, when they have cause to leave their home, generally do so by way of Daledrop, which is closer to Caer-Konig than any other ofthe ten towns. The Ruined Caer After Caer-Dineval was taken back from the orcs, the people ofthat town decided to set up an outpost farther up the lakeside that could spot any approachlug raiders from the north and signal the inhabitants in time for them to fight or flee. They chose a site at the neck oflcewind Pass where the defenders would have the best chance ofspotting anyone crossing the open tundra. There, they built a wooden fortress like the castle at Caer-Dineval and named it for their leader who had proposed the project—Caer-Konig. The new stronghold was not like the one at Caer-Dineval in every respect. That one had been constructed by trained workers under the capable hand ofa master builder who had been hired for the task. The new one was raised by stout-hearted warriors who put great effort into its construction but did not know how deep to sink the pylons to keep a thirty-foot wall from being bent by the wind, or how to pile loose stones around the wall’s base to keep snow runofffrom eroding the earthen foundation. Already dilapidated after only a few seasons, the caer offered no protection to its garrison when the next band oforc raiders came down Icewind Pass. The defenders fled to Caer-1)ineval, and the orcs razed the useless structure to the ground. Nothing ifnot proud, the people of Caer-Dineval quickly took back Caer-Konig (much as they had done with their own castle), and before long a new settlement had sprouted at the site ofthe northern stronghold. The fortress ofCaer-Konig has been rebuilt several times since then, always to fall to the depredations ofwar or weather. It’s been over a gen eration since the last time the caer was raised, and although few people left in town remember a time when the fort still stood, its decrepit state is a sore spot with many ofthe locals—especially given the contrast with the proud bastion ofCaer-Dineval.

,, Rival to Caer-Dineval Whatever amity might have existed between Caer-Konig and Caer-Dineval disappeared with the opening ofthe ivory trade with the cities ofthe south. The bounty ofLac Dinneshere, which had always supplied the two towns with more than enough fish to eat, suddenly became a valuable commodity. For generations, the rivalry between Caer-Konig and Caer-T)ineval has been the stuffoflocal legend in Ten-Towns, and many meetings ofBryn Shander’s council have been taken up by arguments between the towns’ speakers over fishing rights or, indeed, anything else that might be construed as a market advantage for one town or the other. All this changed recently with the alliance struck between Alden, the speaker ofCaer-Konig, and Crannoc, his counterpart in Caer-Dineval. Hewing to the terms ofan old agreement ratified by the coun cii generations ago over the fishing rights on Lac Dinneshere, the speakers ofthe two towns have joined forces to contain the threat posed by Easthaven’s growing fleet ofvessels. For the first time that anyone can remember, the fishers ofCaer-Konig and Caer-Dineval observe an uneasy truce, working side by side (ifnot exactly together) to keep Easthaven’s boats offthe lake north ofthe Shander Line—the imaginary line running due east from Bryn Shander that was identified as the farthest extent ofEasthaven’s waters. Old grudges die hard, however, and the folks of Caer-Konig and Caer-Dineval don’t exactly have a history ofmutual trust. Many people in both towns are dissatisfied by the arrangement, and the resi dents ofCaer-Konig are especially suspicious of Alden’s motives in working with Crannoc. Many of the fishers have begun to feel that Alden sold them out, and some think the town should negotiate a new accord with Easthaven. They know that Caer-Konig would have to give up some ofits waters, but they hope that by colluding with Easthaven they could draft an agreement that would be far more punishing to Caer-1)ineval than it would be to Caer-Konig, which would suit the spiteful townsfolkjust fine. Goods and Services The Northern Light is Caer-Konig’s inn, where visiting traders stay before making the returnjourney to Easthaven or Bryn Shander, and where adventurers rest between expeditions to Kelvin’s Cairn. The inn’s name refers to its door lamp, a magical lantern that was enspelled by a visiting wizard decades ago. It glows with a light that slowly shifts from green to red to blue, resembling the iridescent ribbons ofcolor that sometimes dance across the night sky this far north. The inn is kept by two sisters. The younger, Allie, is lithe and charming, and she greets guests, showing them to their rooms. The older, Con, is stout and scowling; she sees to the inn’s provisioning and does all the cooking. Guests often hear the sisters arguing late into the night, Allie accusing Con ofspending the inn’s profits on needless luxuries such as goose-feather pallets and expensive spices for her meats and stews, and Con accusing Allie ofnot knowing how to run an inn and thinking she can charm people into throwing their money away. After they run out ofthings to fight about, the sisters go offto their beds, and then get up the next day to do it all over again. Hook, Line, and Sinker, a tavern on Caer-Konig’s market square, is easily the busiest establishment in town. The tavern owes its popularity to the free halfpints that the owner, Eglendar, keeps on a table by the front door. He presses one into the hand ofevery person who stops by. Eglendar on the idea after spending a long time watching most ofthe town’s fishers crawl into a competing dockside tavern at the end ofeach day, not bothering to walk the extra hundred feet to his building. Now, they come to his place first for the free drink (the hooky, and most ofthem stay to order seconds and thirds (the line—in local parlance, having a “long line” refers to a predilection for hard drinking). The “sinker” part ofthe tavern’s name refers both to the last drink call ofthe night and—when locals challenge visitors to a good-natured drinking contest—to the last drink that sends a losing contestant under the table. Frozenfar Expeditions is both a store and a professional organization ofsorts. Run by a veteran ranger named Atenas Swift, the shop is the cbsest thing that Icewind Dale has to the adventurers’ “. Ruined E::. Caer Frozenfar . ,, . ‘:• - •• .The Northern -- . .

guilds that are sometimes found in the large cities ofthe south. A middle-aged, steely-haired man with skin the color oftanned leather, Atenas is more than capable ofleading expeditions up Kelvin’s Cairn or down to the Spine ofthe World, as he often did in his youth. He can boast ofhaving climbed the treacher ous slopes ofthe Reghed Glacier. Now, age is catching up with Atenas; he is starting to feel the cold in his joints and goes out on the mountain less frequently than he once did, preferring to stay by the warmth of a hearth. But he remains a font ofknowledge for those who are bent on adventure in Icewind Dale. He readily sells maps and supplies to explor ers, and he gives out free advice on how to survive an avalanche, the five mistakes people make when trying to run from a crag cat, how to scale an ice wall withjust a fishing rod and a dead yeti, and more such topics. In addition to seeking equipment and advice, adventurers come to the store to see postings left by other explorers in the area. Some ofthese notices advertise expeditions that are looking for recruits or hirelings who are willing to join existing ventures. Others promise leads that the posters did not have the skill or resources to pursue. Some warn about hazards encountered in the wild. Still others are wills and insurance policies, announcing the poster’s expedition plan and expected date ofreturn. Ifsuch an individual does not return, Atenas uses his deposit either to hire other adventurers to attempt a rescue or to set the missing person’s affairs in order. Alden Lowell Speaker ofCaer-Koni8 Alden Lowell is a craven opportunist, with none of the qualities ofa true leader. After contriving to be named speaker ofCaer-Konig, he quickly alienated many ofhis constituents by supporting Crannoc Siever’s proposal to enforce the terms ofthe lake’s old fishing charter. Since then, Alden’s career has been wedded to Crannoc’s. He spends most ofhis time in council parroting the speaker of Caer-Dineval, and he throws his weight around town by pretending that Crannoc is his staunch ally. In fact, Crannoc regards Alden as a simpering fool, whom he tolerates only because Alden so readily follows his lead. Alden, meanwhile, considers himselfthe clever one and is convinced that it’s he who is using Crannoc. Alden is a coward at heart—a fact that he has not yet had to confront since he is protected, for the time being, by his association with the speaker ofCaer-Dineval. Alden is a young man, slight ofbuild with blond hair. He often puffs out his chest when he talks, trying to imitate Crannoc’s bearing. When his bravado inevitably crumbles, he visibly deflates, and his speech becomes puerile. The Pirates of the Howling Fiend As ifthe heightened tensions between the fishing fleets ofCaer-Konig, Caer-Dineval, and Easthaven weren’t enough, the lake’s waters have recently become even more perilous with the appearance of a band ofpirates who sail a ship called the Howling Fiend. They strike indiscriminately, attacking ships from any ofthe three towns, looting the vessels for food and valuables and then setting them afire, leav ing their crews to perish in the flames or drown in the frigid waters. The pirates usually strike before dawn, when the first ships ofthe day are testing the lake’s waters, or at dusk, when the most dedicated or desperate fishers are pushing their luck to make one last catch. Sometimes, when the lake is obscured by mist or snow, the pirates make bold daytime raids on Caer-Konig and Caer-Dineval, terrorizing the residents and laying waste to the dockside, and then retreating before the fishers on the lake can respond to the screams oftheir kin. In truth, the appearance ofthe pirates is related to the towns’ other troubles. The marauders are former residents ofCaer-Dineval, fishers who were eager to defend their right to the lake’s waters against the encroaching fleet ofEasthaven. With the aid of Speaker Crannoc and financial backing from some of the town’s businesses, the fishers commissioned a ram for the bow oftheir ship from Baerick Hammerstone, the dwarfstone carver ofKelvin’s Cairn whose “black ice” pieces have become the rage ofTen-Towns. Wanting the ram as much for intimidation as for practical use, the fishers asked Baerick to carve it in the likeness ofa terrifying demon. The finished piece bears an obvious likeness to Errtu, the balor demon who has twice terrorized the people ofTen-Towns. The head and torso extend forward from the ship’s prow, and the sculpture’s mouth is agape in a silent scream—imagery that prompted the fishers to change their ship’s name to the Howling Fiend. Equipped with their new ram, the crew began aggressively pushing the fishers ofEasthaven away from the central waters ofthe lake, much to the delight ofthe northern towns. But constant expo sure to such a large quantity ofblack ice began to affect the Ilowling Fiend’s crew. Their attacks on Easthaven’s ships became increasingly vicious, and they began quarreling with other crews from their own town. Crannoc, fearing that their belligerence would endanger his tenuous alliance with Caer-Konig and inflame the speakers ofthe other towns, tried to rein in the crew to no avail. -11 I -r:. .

‘. ...*.vw The tipping point came when a Caer-I)ineval boat came to the aid ofa foundering Easthaven vessel that had just been rammed by the Howlinq Fiend, with no other friendly vessels close enough to save its crew. The sailors on the Howlin8 Fiend, enraged, came back around and rammed the second boat just as the Easthaven crew was climbing aboard, sending three ofthe fishers—including one from Caer-Dineval-—to the bottom ofthe lake. Before more boats came on the scene, the Howling Fiend fled to the far end of the lake, making berth in a hidden cove there. Its crew did not dare to return home, and two days later Speaker Crannoc denounced the attack in a special meeting ofthe council, declaring the crew ofthe Howling Fiend to be outlaws. Within a week ofthe incident, the ship reappeared on Lac I)inneshere’s waters, but now as a pirate vessel. The black ice had thoroughly corrupted the crew, granting them unnatural strength and poisoning their minds. Their depredations rank among the most hei nous ofany outlaws who have ever terrorized Icewind Dale—they loot, murder, and pillage at will. At least one person in Ten-Towns does not consider the pirates’ activity on the lake to be an unqualified disaster. Vaelish Gant, a wizard in Bryn Shander, sees the pirate crew as a potential tool for furthering the Arcane Brotherhood’s agenda in Icewind Dale. Their ravages have made the towns ofLac Dinneshere more receptive to the wizard’s self-serving offers ofaid (the better to penetrate the fishing industries ofthose towns with his own capital and agents). Moreover, if Gant can find a way to exert some control over the pirate crew, he can ensure that the howling Fiend’s attacks serve his purpose by targeting businesses and vessels that don’t comply, while leaving the Arcane Brotherhood’s operations alone. Derrick the Drownder Derrick Gaffner is the captain ofthe Howling Fiend, although ever since the attack that branded him an out1a he has been known by the folk on Lac Dinneshere as “T)errick the Drownder.” A hot-headed man even before he was corrupted by the black ice, Derrickhas a face battered from a lifetime ofbrawling— his nose has been broken numerous times, and one of his ears was halftorn offin a nasty fight. Most recently, his cheek was opened up by a fisher’s knife during one ofthe pirate raids. Lacking needle and thread, Derrick had one ofhis men close the wound with fishhooks, which still hang from the angry red scar. Derrick leads his crew by example, using intimi dation to quash any dissent. He’s not much of a strategist (it was one ofthe other crew members who pointed out that they probably shouldn’t conduct their raids in broad daylight) and tends to follow his passion, raiding for the sheerjoy ofstriking terror into the people ofLac Dinneshere. As such, Derrick is easily manipulated—even by his own crew— although his temper makes it dangerous to do so, since he doesn’t hesitate to maim or kill anyone he suspects oftrying to make a fool of him. Pyrse of Ship Rethnor Pyrse Auliffis an agent ofShip Rethnor (see page 63) sent by Vaelish Gant to infiltrate the pirate crew. At least, “Pyrse Auliff” is the name he gave to Der rick the Drownder. After tracking the pirates back to their hideout, Pyrse approached them, pretending to be a disaffected fisher from Caer-Konig who wanted to join their crew. As suspicious as Derrick was due to the influence ofthe black ice, the captain came within a hair’s breadth ofslaying the intruder outright. But Pyrse had timed his arrival well, coming to the camp the night after a botched raid on Caer-Dineval had left the crew two men down. One ofthe other pirates observed that they would need new blood to continue raiding. In the end, Derrick’s thirst for pillage won out over his reservations about Pyrse’s unexpected arrival. Since then, Pyrse has been working to gain the crew’s trust and subtly directing their raids according to instructions he regularly receives from Vaelish Gant through a magical ritual. He has even persuaded Der rick to bolster the pirates’ ranks by capturing, rather than sinking, some ofthe fishing boats they attack, accepting their crews as “volunteers.” Pyrse’s proximity to the black ice ram on the HowlmR Fiend is taking its toll, heightening his paranoia and fear ofdiscovery. Pyrse now believes that Vaelish Gant is watching him constantly, making his every move a test ofloyalty. The other pirates have noticed that he sometimes makes strange gestures or mumbles to himselfwhen he thinks no one is listening, giving rise to the suspicion that he is simply mad. Creedon the Ferryman Creedon Connelly is the ferryman ofEasthaven and has held that post since old Spiblin drowned a decade ago. Tall, tan, and wiry, with a mop ofbrown hair hanging in front ofhis brow, Creedon waits at the docks every day for passengers who need to make the trip across the southern shore ofLac Dinneshere, across the rivers that feed the lake. Few make that trip even in the height ofsummer, and Creedon waits in vain now that winter has come. He is desperate for coin to support his wife, Sara, and their five small - __ -

-. -• children, but both he and Sara know that the ferry trade just isn’t enough. The recent appearance ofthe pirates has pre sented Creedon with an unusual opportunity. Ile guessed the location oftheir hideout, having used the cove himselfin years past to occasionally smuggle people or goods in and out ofthe towns on Lac Dinneshere. After gathering his courage, Creedon sailed into the hidden cove one night and made the pirates a proposition. He would bring them regular shipments ofsupplies they were unable to procure, in addition to information on the towns’ activities: when and where the pirates would find the richest targets to strike; what resistance they might face; and any plans the townsfolk might formulate to strike back at them. In exchange, the pirates would pay him a fair price and guarantee safety for him and his boat. To his relief, the pirates agreed to his proposition. Moreover, the Luskan agent, Pyrse, made a separate arrangement with Creedon to provide information of particular interest to Vaelish Gant. Pyrse also asked Creedon to filter the information he provides to the pirates based on the wizard’s needs. Now Creedon has a growing purse ofsilver stashed in his mattress at home, even after seeing to his family’s welfare. He occasionally feels pangs ofconscience when he hears about fishers who have lost their boats—and sometimes their lives—to the pirates, or when he witnesses the aftermath oftheir raids on Caer-Konig and Caer-I)ineval. Creedon consoles hiinselfwith the thought that he’s only doing what he must to provide for his family, and he imagines that someday he rjll make up for his complicity by telling Speaker Danneth about the hidden cove . . . just as soon as the purse in his bed gets a little fatter. REDWATERS The southernmost lake oflcewind Dale is, by many accounts, the most beautiful. Belying its name, the waters ofthe lake are emerald green in the morning and sparkling silver at twilight. Unlike Maer I)ualdon, which is beset by fleets offishing boats from Targos and Terinalaine, or Lac Dinneshere, which is blasted by frigid winds coming offthe tundra, Redwaters is a peaceful lake, plied only by a handful ofsailboats and a few score coracles that glide across the surface like swans with their young. Redwaters is not without its dangers, though. The most remote ofthe three lakes, it is visited infre quently by caravans and other traders, so basic supplies can be hard to come by here. Considering how little wealth trickles into the area, sellswords and fortune-seekers rarely visit Redwaters. As a result, the wilds teem with the kinds ofinonstrous beasts that elsewhere would fall to an adventurer’s blade. I)uring the winter, when the lake freezes over, food becomes scarce. Unlike the deeper waters ofMaer Dualdon and Lac Diimeshere, Redwaters freezes early and thick, making the fishing season shorter and ice fishing impossible in midwinter. Travelers find that the people ofGood Mead and Dougan’s Hole guard their provisionsjealously—and sometimes aggres sively—during these lean months. “Warm as a winter greeting in Redwaters” is common Ten-Towns parlance for an inhospitable welcome. The two towns ofRedwaters, Good Mcad and Dougan’s Hole, are known to be fiercely indepen dent. It is ironic, then, that to most ofthe other people ofTen-Towns, the two are almost always mentioned in the same breath. “Good Mead and Dougan’s Hole” might as well be the name ofa single town, as far as residents ofthe other eight towns are concerned. To the people ofGood Mead, this expres sion is irksome, since they consider themselves quite different from all the other townsfolk. The folk of 1)ougan’s Hole find it downright insulting, because for some reason they always come second. I - ‘S

.- “Cut south offthe Eastway after the trees thin out, an’ keep walking ‘tilye hear the buzzin’ o’ bees. That’ll be Good Mead. Ifyefall in the lake,you’ve gone toofar.” —Beorne Steelstrike Visitors to Good Mead rarely have a difficult time deciding where in town to go first. The short row of squat dwellings that line the trail along the lake’s westem edge is overshadowed by the two-story structure of the mead hall, its eaves carved and painted to resemble the wyverns that are said to roost in Kelvin’s Cairn. Like most ofTen-Towns, Good Mead originally depended on knucklehead trout for its livelihood, selling smoked fish, raw ivory, and scrimshaw in the market at Bryn Shander. In fact, the southern lake got its name when the competition for fishing waters between Good Mead and Dougan’s Hole led to a battle between several ships that resulted in the deaths offishers from both towns, staining the waters with blood. In the decades following, Good Mead’s trade in itsjustly famous brew began to outstrip the proceeds from its fishing hauls to the point where most ofthe town’s fishers took up mead brewing instead. A building adjoining the mead hail, recently erected to provide storage for the increasing volume ofcasks, is roofed with the town’s retired fishing vessels, and now only a handful of boats sail out each day from Good Mead to catch fresh fish for the stewpots. The only other building ofnote is the town’s shrine to Tempus. Unlike the mead hall, which is well cared for, the shrine’s painted icons ofthe god ofwar are chipped and faded, and its hall—cramped by the standards ofmost southerners, though twice the size ofany ofthe town’s dwellings—stands empty most days. The shrine was built over a century ago, when the town’s rivalry with Dougan’s Hole still raged, and for a time thereafter nearly all the inhab itants of Good Mead paid homage to the battle lord. Since their retreat from the waters, the shrine’s rel evance has dwindled to the point where only a few pious residents visit it regularly, and then only to observe the war god’s holy days. Kendrick Rielsbarrow Speaker ofGood Mead Kendrick Rielsbarrow is a bluff, good-natured giant ofa man and a tireless ambassador for the town of Good Mead. The only thing he loves more than selling his home town’s famous brew is sharing it with good company, so he spends his time traveling about TenTowns with a wagon full ofmead casks, delivering his stock to the local inns and taverns. Kendrick means well, but he is not the most effective ofspeakers—he is easily manipulated by his peers in the council—and as a result, Good Mead has not prospered in recent years as much as some ofthe other towns have. Standing seven feet tall, with a physique that mir rors the rocky slopes ofKelvin’s Cairn, Kendrick looks like a more civilized version ofthe barbarians that roam the tundra, causing some Ten-Towners to wonder about his heritage. He speaks in a booming voice and is quick to laugh. Dougan’s Hole Population 100 “They’re an odd lot, thefoiks o’ Dougan’s Hole. Keep to ‘emselves, and seem to like it that way. I only visited there once. After theflrst day, Igot the sense they thought it best for me to leave. After the third day, I got the sense they were right.” —Beorne Steelstrike Dougan’s Hole is the smallest ofthe ten towns, and visitors who make the trek from Bryn Shander are likely to be underwhelmed when they finally reach the small cluster ofdwellings perched on the edge ofRedwaters. Even Good Mead, barely more popu bus, seems more civilized with its decorated mead hall and its cultivation ofthe surrounding forest. The only improvements that the people ofDougan’s Hole have made to their bit ofshoreline are the two piers they built for launching their boats and the gravel Good Mead Population 150 Mead Hall I Shrine to 1 .‘.—

- r ,. ..‘ -.‘ ... they put down between their dwellings to keep paths and roads from becoming a sodden mess. The residents depend for trade entirely on the knucklehead trout they fish from Redwaters, since the town is not large enough to support any industry—not even scrimshaw. The able scrimshanders ofTen-Towns reside in the larger communities ofthe two northern lakes, so merchants from Dougan’s Hole sell raw ivory and salted fish at Bryn Shander’s market, hoping to make enough coin to buy grain for the winter in addi tion to hooks and line for the next fishing season. In winter, Dougan’s Hole becomes even more isolated from the other towns, and the road connecting it to Good Mead and the Eastway is frequently blocked by deep drifts ofsnow. Even when the road is passable, the residents keep to their own, including the speaker, Edgra Durmoot. Although the tradi tional midwinter council meeting in Bryn Shander is always spottily attended, Edgra is alone among the speakers ofTen-Towns in never having attended a single one. She prefers to be with her people, she says, who are too busy hunting, trapping, and chopping wood for their fires—simply trying to survive the winter—to worry about politics. Twenty Stones of Thruun About the only interesting feature in Dougan’s Hole, and the only reason most travelers bother visiting the place, is the strange megaliths known as the Twenty Stones ofThruun. Standing at the town’s southern edge, these rudely fashioned granite menhirs are arranged in a perfect triangle, with a single stone anchoring the formation’s center. No one knows who built the structure or why; the townsfolk maintain that the stones were there when the town’s founder, Dougan Dubrace, first happened upon his famous fishing spot. Many northern scholars have tried to research the origin ofthe structure’s name, but all they found were allusions to a creature named Thruun in the oldest legends ofthe northern folk. speculate that Thruun was a god who disap peared from the pantheon ofFaerimn long ago, but others question whether such a being ever existed. Edgra Durmoot Speaker ofDouqan’s Hole Edgra Durmoot is an old trapper who has lived her I entire life in Dougan’s Hole. A plainspoken woman of I words, Edgra is suspicious by nature and tends to be gruffin her dealings with strangers. She is not much warmer with her peers, frequently snapping at the other speakers in council and dismissing their ideas. Many times Edgra has refused to heed a summons to council, and she never attends during the winter months. Some ofthe other town speakers wonder why she bothers coming to council meetings at all. Edgra is lean and leathery; her scarred hands and grizzled face speak ofa hard life eked out at the edge ofcivilization. Having survived her husband, along with the many dangers in the wilds oflcewind Dale, Edgra is as tough as they come, and only a fool would take her for a weak old woman. MAER DUALDON Once the primary destination of all who came to Icewind Dale, Maer Dualdon has seen fewer visitors in recent generations, with travelers staying in Bryn Shander or taking the Eastway to Lac Dinneshere instead. Those who still make the final leg ofthe journey north are rewarded with some ofthe same sights that greeted the first explorers and enticed them to settle here. Under the great shadow ofKel yin’s Cairn, protected by the mountain from the winds ofthe Reghed Glacier, sits an azure lake, its deep, cold waters rich with trout, its banks sheltered by tall growths ofpine and fir. Otters play in the river waters that drain from Maer Dualdon, and great eagles soar overhead, occasionally diving to rake the lake’s surface with their talons, leaving behind a silver scar that is quickly engulfed by the blue waters. Today’s travelers are also greeted by other sights that the first settlers could not have imagined. The lake’s southern shore is sheltered not by trees but by the wooden walls ofTargos, built out over the water to provide safe harbor for its ships. On the eastern I L - —-

, :... . ‘ shore, the town ofTermalaine stretches out beneath the mountain, and the town ofLonelywood has pushed back the forest’s edge to the north. West of the lake, the people ofBreinen have built along the banks ofthe Shaengarne River, chasing the otters downstream. Everywhere on Maer 1)ualdon, boats skim across the surface, competing with the eagles to pull fish out ofthe depths. Targos Population 1,000 “Thefoiks in Targos are as hard-headed as the trout in their lake. They’d rather stay shut up behind their walls than admit they need helpfrom anyone. Stubborn an’ proud, the lot of’em. Makes a dwarffrel right at home.” —Beorne Steelstrike The scene inside the gates ofTargos, the only other walled community in Ten-Towns, invites immediate comparison with Bryn Shander. Both towns are busy and crowded, but where Bryn Shander buzzes with the vibrant energy ofits market, Targos hums with the steady industry ofits docks. In Bryn Shander during the day, locals constantly look to see who has come in the gates, while travelers wander about taking in the town; at night, the taverns are full of people getting to know each other over a few pints of mead. In Targos during the day, people walk through the street quickly with their noses down, intent on getting their work done. When night falls and the last boats are in, the town goes quiet as the fishers head for their beds, to get what rest they can before the dawn finds them back out on the lake. Fishing Industry Almost all the towns in Icewind Dale make their living offthe lakes, but nowhere is that fact more on display than in Targos. The town has always had the biggest fishing fleet, the best ships, the most knowl edgeable sailors, and, as a result. the biggest hauls. Even though Easthaven has threatened to overtake it, Targos has retained its dominant position in the fishing industry by concentrating on what it does best. Nearly every resident is involved in some facet ofthe fishing business, and everything that goes on in town revolves around the work ofhauling the knucklehead out ofMaer Dualdon’s waters. Walled Town Like Bryn Shander, Targos is encircled by a wooden wall, which in the past has protected the town against orc and barbarian raids. Lately, though, the I________ , -.; \... - hI wZ5araos Three ivLaer . 1 - F1ags ‘• - -%, .. . Market Squ’r -rco 3remez S1 iy A : % 4• .—,-.. .:-,_‘e :?L.%- 500 ‘ 1000 “:::‘‘:. .,... feetIiiii1itiaI4 I I I wall has gotten in the way ofthe town’s growth, and new residents have started erecting shanties outside the wall. The wall extends out over the lake, creating a safe harbor for the town’s boats and giving Targos aiiother advantage over its rival, Termalaine, whose fleet is occasionally damaged by the storms that blow in from the Sea ofMoving Ice. Goods and Services The Luskan Arms is the oldest public house in Ten-Towns, established back when Bryn Shander was stilijust “the cabin on the hill” and Luskan was a thriving city. Many ofthe traders who came to Targos in those days hailed from Luskan, so the Luskan Arms was built to look like an inn that might be found in the City of Sails. As a result, much ofthe decor is nearly two hundred years old, providing a snapshot ofLuskan as it was in the years before its decline and ruin. Pennants bearing the arms ofthe five ships ofLuskan’s 1-ugh Captains hang from the inn’s walls, and a vellum map ofthe city is mounted over the hearth. The innkeeper, a quiet, balding man named ()wenn, knows bits and pieces ofthe city’s lore, some ofwhich were passed on to him by his father, with the rest picked up from travelers who come to stay at the Arms. Three Flags Sailing is the tavern where fishers coming in offthe lake grab a bowl ofstew and a quick pint before heading to bed. The atmosphere at the Three Flags is subdued—the fishers are usually weary from their long day’s work, more interested in eating than socializing. The mood occasionally turns boisterous when the town celebrates a good haul or when one ofthe crews recounts the tale ofa fight with : - “-- “

THE DOCKWORKERS’ GUILD Targos is the only community in Ten-Towns that has a guild—namely, the dockworkers’ guild, representing the town’s shipwrights, warehouse workers, and loaders. The guild was formed to ensure standards of quality and construction for the town’s fishing vessels and to prevent wildcat strikes by laborers who come to Targos during the busiest part of the fishing season. Town speaker Giandro Holfast is one of the guild’s leaders, and he is attempting to expand the guild to the rest ofTen-Towns. Workers whojoin the guild would benefit from its wage and trade protec tions, and their towns would gain the expertise of Targos’s master shipwrights. Such expansion might cost Targos some of its competitive advantage with the other fishing towns, but Giandro believes that the increased influence such an arrangement would bring to his town would finally put Targos on an even footing with Bryn Shander. _1I fishers from Termalaine. Three Flags Sailing is run by a plump, gray-haired widow named Ethen, whom the local fishers call “Ma.” She bustles around the tavern making sure everyone has a hot beer—”to take the chill off,” she says—and fusses over the men as ifthey were her own sons which a few ofthem are. Graendel’s Fine Dwarven Craft is a smithy run by the aging Graendel Granitefist, one ofthe original dwarves who fled Mithral Hall with Clan Battlehammer and resettled in Icewind Dale. He has plied his trade in Targos since before most ofthe fishers’ grandsires were alive, and he is the only person left in Targos who remembers Akar Kessell’s invasion and the destruction that his Cryshal-Tirith wrought on the town, incinerating whole blocks ofbuildings with a focused beam ofsunlight. The town has long since built over the devastation, but Graendel still tells the tale ofthat terrible day to anyone who’ll listen—usually captive-audience guards from Bryn Shander who have come to have their armor adjusted. Graendel has a fine eye for his craft and makes all ofhis pieces to order, fitting them perfectly to their intended recipients, whether an adventurer looking for a new blade or a boat in need ofa new anchor. Because ofGraendel’s exacting standards, his work often takes some time, and those in need of a quick armor patch or a simple fish-gutter usually make do with one ofthe other resident smiths. Triglio is the town’s general store, named for one ofthe chanteys that the fishers often sing when hard at work upon the lake: “Trigl-ee-oh, lads, an’ ‘oist upon the line/Tri 1cjl-ee-oh, lads, an’ brinqyonftshers in.” The proprietor is a thin, middle-aged man named Jestin, who fished the lake until his left hand was crushed in a collision with a rival boat from Terinalaine. Now he sells foodstuffs, sackcloth, candles, lamp oil, snowshoes, wagon wheels, and various other necessi ties. The one thing he doesnt sell is fishing or sailing supplies—in Targos, all such goods are supplied by specialty crafters and merchants. Adventurers can find most oftheir basic supplies at Triglio, and ifthey can’t,Jestin can tell them where else to look. Giandro Holfast Speaker ofTargos Giandro Ilolfast is a native ofTargos who works as a master shipwright at the town’s docks. He is proud ofhis work and proud ofhis town, and it chafes at him to see Targos threatened by the rising star ofEasthaven. Like many ofhis fellow residents, Giandro deeply resents what he sees as Bryn Shand er’s machinations to become the preeminent city oflcewind Dale, with all the other towns in orbit around it. The speaker is determined that Targos should hold its own, and though he is not hostile toward his peers on the council, he rebuffs any proposition that he believes would make Targos beholden to the other towns. Giandro is middle-aged, with dark hair and a strongjaw, and might be handsome ifnot for his perpetual frown. His hands are thickly callused, and he speaks in a stern, gravelly voice. Termalaine Population 600 “Thefolks o’ Termalaine will tellye theirs is the loveliest part o’ Ten-Towns, an’ I reckon they’ve got the ri8ht ofit. True, the charms o’ their spacious streets an’ decorated homes may ‘ave been wasted on me, but the mine! Full o’ gems it were, sparklin’ like the waters o’ the maer. Aye, a lovely town indeed!” —Beorne Steelstrike Termalaine has a well-deserved reputation as the most picturesque town in Icewind I)ale. Without the confinement of a wall, the settlement unfurls from the banks ofMaer Dualdon in long, broad avenues

dotted with trees, inviting travelers to stroll down to the water’s edge. The town does not feel busy or crowded—its spacious houses are widely spread along the avenues, and its inhabitants go leisurely about their days. Termalaine has its own fishing fleet, and one often hears workers down on the docks calling out to one another or to the boats coming in offthe lake, but the town is not dominated by its fishing industry the way Targos is. Crafters and artisans are as numerous here as shipwrights, and their work improves on the town’s natural beauty. Many buildings feature intricate braid-work carved into their wood frames and doors, and scrimshaw ornaments and wind chimes hang in their windows. But perhaps what endears Termalaine most to travelers is its people. Though rough and hard-working like all the other inhabitants ofTen-Towns, the folk of Termalaine are also friendly, good-natured, and wel coming ofstrangers. Some people say that’s because they get so few travelers compared to the likes of Bryn Shander, but in truth it’s because the people ofTermalaine love the small corner ofFaerfln they have carved out for themselves, and they want visi tors to fall in love with it, too. Rival to Targos Termalaine’s rivalry with Targos goes back as far as anyone can remember. For as long as the folk of these two towns have been pulling knucklehead out ofthe waters ofMaer Dualdon, they’ve been fighting over who pulled which fish out ofwhat waters. Every day on the lake, fishers from Termalaine and Targos can be heard yelling at each other for crossing lines, obstructing movement across the water, scaring the fish away, and stealing catches. Most of the time these grievances are voiced from a distance, but every so often the crews nudge each other’s boats, and the yelling escalates to fisticuffs. These alterca tions are usually more a chance for the fishers to display their bravado than an attempt to do serious injury to the other party, but occasionally an encoun ter turns truly violent, resulting in deaths. After each such tragedy, the mood in Termalaine turns dark, and the residents begin recounting the transgres sions perpetrated by Targos over decades, which serves to reinforce the unending animosity between these two rivals. Goods and Services The Eastside is the inn where visitors in Terma lame generally stay. What looks from the street like a cluster ofhouses actually turns out to be a single structure connected underground, with some ofthe coziest rooms in Ten-Towns though, as more than one traveler has doubtless reflected, only in Icewind Dale would a cot in the cellar be considered cozy). The owner is an aging fisher named Clyde, who still spends his days out on the lake, since the inn doesn’t see a lot ofbusiness. His wife tended to visitors during the day, until she passed away two winters ago; now Clyde employs a 12-year-old girl named Marta to watch the door and make meals for anyone who comes to stay. The Blue Clam is the dockside tavern where the fishers ofTermalaine typically end their day, seated on benches near one ofthe building’s long hearths to warm their feet while they fill their bellies with spiced chowder. The walls are decorated with fishing trophies and beautiful works ofscrimshaw, and the tables and benches are decorated with the knotwork carvings typical ofthe town. Vernon Braig, the owner and chef, knows some ofthe hunters and trappers up in Lonelywood, and occasionally a sled comes down the north road with a sack ofhares or a haunch ofmoose, courtesy ofone ofVernon’s friends. On those nights, the Blue Clam’s hearths are full nf roasting meats, and the patrons stay later and sing louder, enjoying the good times while they last. Shaelen Masthew Speaker ofTermalaine Shaelen Masthew is a charming, outgoing woman who seems to know the name ofevery person in Termalaine, and her friendly manner makes strang ers feel right at home. Shaelen first attended the council meeting in Bryn Shander as a proxy for

THE GEM MINE When the first explorers settled on the east bank of Maer Dualdon, they thought nothing ofthe small cave set into a low hill behind their settlement. It wasn’t until later, when the settlers mustered up courage to explore the cave’s depths, that they found a load of tourmaline gemstones. Lacking the expertise and resources to set up a proper mining operation, the people of Termalaine have worked the mine slowly and sporadically over the years, their efforts further hampered by creaturesfrom the Underdark that occasionally find their way up into the mine. Whenever such creatures are discovered, the mine is sealed off, and the townsfolk wait until a band ofsellswords or adventurers can be hired to clear it out. Currently the mine stands open, though lately a few miners have reported strange noises and had tools go missing. — the previous speaker, who had fallen ill. She was inspired by Duvessa Shane’s example, and when the previous speaker succumbed to his illness, Shaelen convinced the people ofTermalaine to elect her as the new speaker. Since then, she has learned much about the politics ofTen-Towns and has become one ofthe council’s shrewder members. Shaelen is heavyset, with straw-blond hair tied in braids and a beaming smile. She wears a simple woolen dress and apron, her only ornament a brass wedding ring. Though she is not as fiercely intelligent as Duvessa, Shaelen’s appearance and good nature can be disarming, a fact she frequently exploits. Bremen Population 300 “I tried me hand at pannin’for gold along the banks o’ Bremen, once. Came up with a couple o’ clams an’ ‘n ogre’s tooth, but not a bit o’yellow. Seems like afool waste o’ time, fye ask me. ‘Course, mefather always used to say the same about caravanin’!” —Beorne Steelstrike The town ofBremen sits sleepily on the west bank ofMaer I)ualdon, at the mouth ofthe Shaengarne River. Those who lack a boat to sail into the town’s harbor can reach Bremen only by fording the river, which can be a perilous proposition when the water is running high. In Bremen, travelers are often struck by the sense that they have left Ten-Towns. Even though Targos, Termalaine, and Lonelywood are all visible from the town’s docks and Kelvin’s Cairn still dominates the skyline, the Shaengarne is like a road, slowly bending its way south and west, away from the mountain and Icewind Dale. In those prone to wander, the shimmering band ofthe Shaengarne seems to ignite the imagination about what lands lie beyond at the world’s edge. On the people ofBremen, the view has the opposite effect, causing them to cling to Ten-Towns like barnacles to a rock, afraid of being washed away in the tide. Seasonal Floods The fear ofbeing washed away is no mere metaphor. Early every summer, when the frozen ground thaws, the Shaengarne spills over its banks and sweeps the floodplain clean. Accustomed to the annual cycle, the people ofBremen do not build on the floodplain, but in some years the waters rise higher than usual and wash away boats or even buildings erected too close to the riverside. Travelers are also occasionally swept away when, unaware ofthe strength ofthe current, they attempt to ford the raging waters. When the waters recede in midsummer, they leave behind a rich layer ofsilt along the river’s bank, practically the only soil in the area capable ofsustaining anything other than scrub grass. The growing season is short, and the people ofBremen make the most ofit, planting onions and tubers that can be stored for the winter. Those who aren’t busy on the lake often spend their spare daylight hours combing through the silt for whatever the floods might have deposited on the river’s banks—fishhooks and fishing rods, broken weapons, bits ofjewelry, pieces ofraw knucklehead ivory, and even gold nug gets. “Treasure hunting” is a favorite activity among the children, and people from other towns make the trip to Bremen once or twice a year to try their luck on the banks ofthe Shaengarne. Goods and Services Buried Treasures caters to Bremen’s visitors, most ofwhom come from other parts ofTen-Towns to spend a few days panning the riverbanks. Since trea sure hunting is a warm-weather activity in Bremen, the inn is sparsely occupied for most ofthe year, and travelers in the offseason might find a dark common room and a cold hearth upon arrival. Nevertheless, the innkeeper, Cora, is always happy to have guests, and she sets her son, Huarwar, to fetching wood for the fire and helping with the baggage while she turns down the fur-lined cots and puts a pot offish

B;4n __ ; S. , , ‘ . ,II Buried Tran ets ,-—::; ,. ‘ Treasures -2- ? 0 “ - - 5001 1. ‘% —--,- , feet 1—’ a I I : LIfñI: L and leek stew on the hob. The common room is decorated with hundreds of objects dug up from the mud ofthe Shaengarne by Cora’s guests and then donated to the inn. Most are oflittle value—gnarled pieces of driftwood, shards ofbroken pottery, a battered shield bearing the remnants ofa Cormyrean noble’s crest— but displayed in a glass case on top ofthe mantle, out ofcasual reach, is a gold nugget the size ofa man’s knuckle. At least, that’s what Cora tells visitors it is. In truth, it’s a rock that she disguised with a bit of paint she bought from a dwarftrader years ago, but the opportunity it promises to those who see it sparkling above the hearth keeps hopeful visitors coming back year after year. Stones is one ofthe taverns on Breinen’s infamous Five-Tavern Center. It’s known as the place where rough-and-tumble fishers drink their courage before picking fights with locals at the neighboring tav ems (sometimes they practice on each other before taking their act across the street). The barkeep, DufE is a coarse sort himself, and his broad shoulders and broken face attest to his ability to both dole out and withstand punishment. He doesn’t usually get involved in the nightly frays unless they happen in his bar, whereupon he delivers a thumping to any patrons who cause property damage. The tavern takes its name from the polished river rocks that Duffputs at the bottom ofevery tankard ofale. If a drinker drains the cup at a single go, the stone rolls gently down to the lip ofthe tankard, but patrons who delicately sip at their beer will get a crack in the teeth when they throw back the last oftheir drink. In keeping with the spirit ofthe establishment, newcorners are never warned about the stones. Ewin’s Trinkets is a small shop that specializes in buying and selling the items that local treasureseekers find on the riverbanks. The building is cluttered with a miscellany ofobjects. Some look as ifthey might have value to the right person, and others look like the kind oftrash a child would stuff in her pockets to keep it from being thrown away. The shop is owned by a haifling named Ewin who came to Bremen to pan the riverbanks. In a remarkable stroke ofluck, he pulled three gold nuggets out ofthe river in his first two days ofprospecting, and after much deliberation over what to do with his newfound wealth, he decided to buy this store. Some ofthe collection dates back to its original owner, a wizard named Earvin who came to Ten-Towns from Luskan after the fall ofthe Hosttower ofthe Arcane, and who dealt exclusively in magical trinkets. Ewin has spent years trying to figure out which items in his collection are magical and what they might do, but so far the only item whose function he’s sure of is a chipped porcelain cup that instantly heats any liquid poured into it. Ewin is happy to buy any gems orjewelry that adventurers might bring him and is willing to part rjtlm his trinkets for a fair price, with the understanding that buyers won’t hold him responsible for any undiscovered or undesirable magical effects. Dorbuigruf Shalescar Speaker ofBremen I)orbulgruf Shalescar is a dwarffrom Iromuaster (see page 5 6) who moved to Bremen after a mining accident convinced him he had spent enough ofhis life underground. His unflagging efforts helping Bremen to rebuild after a bad flood earned him the respect ofthe locals, and his sensible, even-handed nature earned him their trust, eventually prompting them to nominate him as their speaker. 1)orbulgrufis getting on in years, and a few wisps ofgray are visible in the dwarf’s black beard. He speaks in a slow baritone that brooks no interrup tion, and he always treats strangers as friends until they give him a reason to do otherwise. His unflap pable demeanor is a welcome counterpoint to the hot tempers that often hold sway at the council meetings in Bryn Shander. Local Landmarks Five-Tavern Center is the area in the middle of Bremen where five taverns stand arranged in a circle around a central yard. As the story goes, five brothers had originally intended to build a tavern together,

FIVE-TAVERN CENTER In the middle of Bremen stand five taverns arranged in a circle around a central yard, a place the locals simply call Five-Tavern Center. As the story goes, five brothers had originally intended to build a tavern together, but each had assumed he would be the one to run the business. Since none of the brothers would work for the others, each built his own tavern, and they all competed for customers. Every night would find the brothers in the central yard fighting over who was stealing whose business. Whether the story is true is anyone’s guess, but nearly every night in Bremen finds a fight breaking out in Five-Tavern Center. —_z but each had assumed he would be the one to run the business. Since none ofthe brothers would work for the others, each built his own tavern, and they all competed for customers. Every night would find the brothers in the central yard fighting over who was stealing whose business. Whether the story is true is anyone’s guess, but nearly every night in Bremen finds a fight breaking out in Five-Tavern Center. Wet Rock is a small island located in the head of the Shaengarne River. Jutting up from the river like a miniature version ofKelvin’s Cairn, the rocky islet stays clear ofthe flood waters most years, but in years when the flooding reaches its highest levels Wet Rock is totally submerged. A determined recluse named Thurdeime has rebuilt her little shack atop the island at least six times in the last fifteen years, but no flood can convince her to relocate into town. Rumors around Breinen claim that the old woman is a witch who treats with infernal powers in the solitude ofher cabin, but the truth is much simpler: She fled a brutal husband in Waterdeep fifteen years ago and can’t bring herselfto trust people anymore, especially men. Lonelywood Population 150 “Mostfolk in Lonelywood went there tryin’ toforget about somethin’ . . . or tryin’ to beforgotten. Folks there mind their own business, an’ they expectye to do the same. Surest way tofind trouble in that town is to start askin’ questions.” —Beorne Steelstrike The northernmost municipality in Ten-Towns is a remote community ofloggers and fishers, humble folk engaged in hard, honest labor, scratching out a living at the edge ofthe rorld It is also a den of unrepentant thieves, cold-hearted killers, and miserable derelicts. These two groups ofpeople do not exist separately—they are one and the same, and a person’s vision ofthe town’s inhabitants says more about that individual than it does about the people of Lonelywood. Clinging to either ofthe extreme views often causes outsiders to misjudge the residents, sometimes with tragic consequences. The visitors who fare best in Lonelywood are those who have a more nuanced understanding ofhuman nature, who know that good and evil do not stare at each other across the battlefield ofthe cosmos, but lie within every person’s heart in discomfiting embrace. Haven for Miscreants For as long as Ten-Towns has existed, Lonelywood has attracted the region’s shadiest element. The place is far enough from the other towns to be safe against idle intrusion, and its thick wood conceals the dark and sordid dealings that sometimes transpire there. Still, Lonelywood is not Luskan; people are not regu larly murdered in the streets, and folk do not always plot against one another. The realities ofsurvival this far north demand that the folk ofLonelywood live and work together, and so they do, quite peaceably— for the most part. The fact ofthe matter is that almost every resi dent ofLonelywood has a secret past. It might be a crime for which that person has yet to face justice, a revelation too dangerous or shameful to divulge,

Timber Industry Only about halfofLonelywood’s able-bodied resi dents trawl the lake for knucklehead, while the other halfspend their days in the surrounding forest felling and hewing the trees that are used to construct many ofthe boats and buildings in Ten-Towns. Most famously, Lonelywood’s firs were used to build the walls ofTargos and Bryn Shander. After it is cut, Lonelywood’s timber is taken by cart down the north road, where most ofit is sold in Termalaine and Targos. Less frequently, Lonelywood’s timber drivers bring a load to market in Bryn Shander, where the wood generally fetches a higher price. Lonelywood’s forest is the town’s greatest asset, not only for its material wealth but for the defense it provides against orcs and barbar ians coming down Bremen’s Run. The woods slow oncoming pursuers, giving the townsfolk time to escape onto the safety ofthe lake. Most often, though, bands ofraiders simply pass Lonelywood by, never realizing the town is there. Goods and Services Ramshackle is Lonelywood’s aptly named inn. The original structure was hastily thrown up about a cen tury ago to accommodate a surge ofinterest in the town following its branding as the “Home ofthe Halfling Hero” (so named for the town’s speaker, a haifling named Regis, who played a pivotal role in rebuffing the barbarian invasion led by King : Heafstaag ofthe Tribe ofthe Elk). r After a time, the influx oftravelers to Lonelywood returned to its usual h trickle’and the building was given Tover ,o storing timber. Over the years “the residents periodically found occa sion to reopen the inn, sometimes adding c-’a rooms as needed. No one ‘- —-- _______________ ever imagined that the structure would see use for as long as it has, so all the construction has been of a haphazard nature and indifferent to quality. Sev eral times, sections ofthe building have collapsed under the weight ofthe winter snows; inevitably, the repairs to these sections were undertaken with the same (minimal) amount ofcare that went into their original construction. Nowadays, the inn is kept open on a permanent basis, with a retired sawyer named DeGrootz looking after visitors. Only a handful ofrooms are in service, with the rest still used for timber storage. Rumor has it that sometimes other things get stored in those rooms as well, hidden among the cords ofwood, but DeGrootz keeps all the rooms under lock and key. That, and the heavy woodcutter’s axe he keeps close at hand, deters most visitors from poking around in rooms that aren’t theirs. The Lucky Liar is a favorite local tavern where fishers and woodcutters spend the evenings telling tall tales. Although the taverns in Bryn Shander might see a greater number oftravelers, it is at the Lucky Liar Tavern that one can hear some ofthe most outrageous tales ofadventure in the far-off corners ofFaerfln. Ofcourse, most ofthe stories are - ‘ a loss too great to be overcome by mourning. Although a few people bring their past with them to Lonelywood, continuing their lives and identities as before in hopes that the remoteness ofthe location will keep whatever chases them at bay, most newcomers arrive in town intent on leaving their past behind. But such truths often have a way of catching up with people sooner or later. - før( -.- aet ( fl ‘ - - - - ‘,. _\ .. -- L. I.- i-’•-- .‘ I :- - .

heavily embellished, and some are outright fabrica tions—fictional exploits invented by locals who are concerned about keeping the truth concealed. From time to time, though, patrons whose tongues have been loosened by drink let slip valuable or dangerous secrets—kernels oftruth hastily covered over with a wash oflies, but always noted and filed away by Danae, the tavern’s astute barkeep. A slight, plainlooking woman notable for her raven-black hair, Danae takes advantage ofherjob at the tavern to hide in plain sight among the people ofLonelywood and goes about her serving work with a quiet circ*mspection. She rarely engages in extended conversations, and she makes small talk with patrons as a pretense to linger near an interesting conversa tion taking place at another table. In fact, Danae is a Thayan agent planted in Icewind Dale years ago to watch for enemies ofSzass Tam who might seek refuge in the remote communities ofTen-Towns. Pavel’s Used Goods is the closest thing that Lonelywood has to a general store. Buyers can find a wide array ofgoods here, from the mundane to the extraordinary, and generally at lower prices than can be found in Bryn Shander’s market. But, like the people ofLonelywood, the goods sold here tend to have histories that aren’t readily acknowledged by the shop’s proprietor, a weaselly-looking fellow named Pave!. Travelers who purchase equipment might later find themselves in the uncomfortable situation ofbeing accosted by the items’ previous owners (who were not compensated for their loss) or attacked by interested parties who have mistaken the travelers for said previous owners. On the other hand, adventurers who have rare or unusual objects to sell need look no further than Pavel’s shop. The sly merchant is willing to pay a very nearly fair price for just about anything—no questions asked. The Happy Scrimshander is a little shop near Lonelywood’s docks that sells the tools ofthe scrim shander’s trade: needles and knives in a dazzling array ofshapes and sizes, inks in a rainbow of colors, and waxes used to seal an engraving when it’s done. Avandro Perth Speaker ofLonelywood Avandro Perth is a black market operator from Neverwinter who headed north when Lord Neverember put a price on his head. By the time he eluded the last bounty hunter, Avandro had ended up in Lonelywood, where he resolved to rebuild his business. But then, while he was in the process ofestablishing a local network, Avandro ended up gaining influence among most of the small town’s population, inadver tently resulting in his being elected speaker. He enjoys the expanded clout the position grants him, but its responsibilities place increasing demands on his time. Still, what’s good for Lonelywood is good for business, so Avandro manages the town’s affairs as best he can. With his close-cropped black hair and hawkish features, Avandro is easily recognizable (which proved a distinct liability during his flight from Neverwinter). He speaks in precise, clipped tones and quickly betrays impatience when he thinks his time is being wasted. n?( ‘- - ..- ., - - : - -.\ - -- . * ‘-: ‘ -. ..- -7 -- , - .. 1 - _-:-f- j-: . , •• __.*., ‘/ ;: -- . %4:b.;ç Cc: -: -- --‘ --. - . -

REGHED TRIBES They are children ofthe glacier, as suggested by their collective name. They are people ofthe wild, as revealed by their tribal names—the Elk, the Tiger, the Wolf, the Bear. They are the tribes ofIcewind Dale, proud and wild and strong, bound to ancient traditions that have kept them alive through countless harsh winters in Icewind Dale. The people of Ten-Towns and southern lands call them barbarians, because these wilderness folk disdain what they call the weakness ofcivilized people. Markedly taller than most southerners, with some males approaching seven feet in height, the Reghed barbarians have blue eyes and hair ofblond, red, or light brown. Their skin is bronzed from the sun and cracked by the wind, giving their faces the look of tough leather set in an expressionless mask. They dress in leather and furs, dyed in bright colors that stand out against the brown and white ofthe tundra. The four main tribes have been bitter rivals in the past. Some tribes have diminished, and some minor tribes have disbanded over the past century, many oftheir members settling in Ten-Towns and abandoning their traditional ways. Ofthe remaining tribes—Elk, Tiger, Wolf, and Bear—the Tribe ofthe Elk is the most prominent. It is the tribe ofthe bestknown hero ofthe Reghed barbarians, Wulfgar, son ofBeornegar. The Reghed tribes are nomadic, following herds of reindeer on their annual migrations southwest in the winter and northeast in the summer. The barbarians live in large, round tents made ofdeerskin and supported by beams ofwood harvested from the Spine ofthe World or the trees near Lonelywood. After each seasonal migration, they erect their tents in an encampment that remains more or less unchanged for the length ofthe season. A typical camp includes a ring oflarge tents that house the tribe’s king and the other important mem bers: its shaman, its most honored hunter, its greatest warrior, and the like. Each tent is surrounded by campfires where warriors ofthe tribe sleep in the open, protected from the cold by the flames and thick fur blankets. Smaller tents surround the inner circle, with campfires scattered around and among them. The Reghed tribes have been known to raid TenTowns for supplies and slaves, but only a handftil ofsuch attacks have occurred in the last century, mostly launched by the small, aggressive, and desperate Tribe ofthe Bear. Instead, the tribes have begun to engage in limited trade with the towns, particularly Bremen and Caer-Konig, where many of their distant kin still dwell. Because ofthis trade, the barbarians are better armed, better equipped against the cold, and better fed than ever before, and they seem to be gaining in strength despite their dimin ished numbers. TRIBE OF THE ELK The most renowned and most populous ofthe Reghed tribes, the Tribe ofthe Elk strives to carry on Wulfgars great legacy. For the most part, the tribe lives in peace with the Ten-Towners, and the tribe’s ruler leads his people with wisdom and care. Jarund Elkhardt King ofthe Elk Tribe King Jarund Elkhardt is a towering barbarian whose deeply tanned skin and mane ofauburn hair bespeak a life utterly removed from the comforts of civilization. Anyone who speaks with the terse ruler, however, learns thatJarund is no savage. At forty-two winters, he is the oldest king among all the barbarian tribes and has led the Elk Tribe for over halfhis life. Jarund has seen other kings rise and fall, has made war with his friends and peace with his enemies, and has led tribesmen he knew as babes to their deaths in battle. Always he has kept the survival ofthe Elk Tribe foremost in his efforts, and the strain ofhis long years ofrule is written on his face. Some members ofthe Elk Tribe refer to their king as Jarund the Elder, though never in his pres ence. The epithet is an allusion to the king’s late son, Jarund Twice-Born, who was killed three years ago in a hunt when he tried to bring down a cave bear. His spear struck true, but the creature tore open the young man’s chest in its death throes, leaving Jarund without an heir. The king never speaks of his son and shows no favor to any other warriors ofthe tribe to mark a possible successor. But as old as he is, Jarund cannot ignore the matter ofsuccession for long, and many warriors have already started postur ing against one another in the event that the tribe

r’ ,;—4 invokes the rite ofcombat to determine a new king afterJarund passes. Many ofthe tribesfolk speculate that the leader’s reluctance to name a successor—and the obvious favor he shows to Froya 1-larmoot— indicate that he hopes to sire another heir. Some ofthe women whisper that Froya is already with child—much to the consternation ofjarund’s wife, Wynneth. Whatever the future holds,Jarund is a potent force for the time being, and he rules his tribe with a sure hand. He is gravely concerned about the early coming ofwinter, in terms ofsurviving the harsh season and what it might portend about the greater entities at work in Icewind Dale. In such matters,Jarund seeks the counsel ofMjenir, the Elks’ shaman; the king greatly respects his understanding ofthe workings of gods and spirits. The fact that both men have lost their sons serves to strengthen the bond between them. Jarund’s attitude toward the people ofTen-Towns is a mix ofdisinterest and disdain. He refers to citydwellers as “tamed men” and does not see much value in dealing with them. In Jarund’s mind, the people’s refusal to live with the land, and instead hide from it behind walls, is the source oftheir trou bles. Although he knows the coming winter will test his tribe sorely, Jarund believes that the barbarians’ Many ilijies north ofi’n:ro; 17saCrQcc tUfldfl the trackle to the flortJzerIzTIzost Realms, edge ofland in all the thefrosts cJfM’jlter had already tllegroit,id lzardeized j11 a white tippedg/ no There were rele,tless fllOUfltajfls or trees to block the cold bite oft/ic eastern wind, carryiiig from tlzefrostv air Reghed Glacier TheBreat bergs oft/ic Sea Moving Ice dred of oftheir high-ridjgslow’y past, the wind howling off coI7liig tips in agriin reminder ofthe season. Andyet Slunmered the nomadic tribes who there with the reindeer had wit/i tl!e notjourneyed herd migration southwest to the along the coast iflOre hospitable peninsula sea on the south side ofthe in The One unwaveringfl 55 small oft/ic horizon was broken corner by a solitary encampment largestgathering the ofbarbariauis more than thisfar north in a century I :$ I 4 —The Crystal Shard

‘! _____ )7 ) elk 3Vit’4 camp , _r_ - - . - : ‘:- - - _%_ Q( i• ;: - - Apprenticed at a young age to the tribe’s previ ous shaman, Mjenir has a deep understanding ofthe ways ofthe tundra—the flow ofthe land, the rhythm ofthe weather, the delicate interplay between herd animals and predators. This knowledge alone would make Mjenir an invaluable member ofthe tribe, but even more important, he has a connection to the spirit realm. It is common knowledge among the tribesfolk that Mjenir can speak with animals, and some believe that he can read omens in the clouds. In truth, Mjenir’s command ofnature spirits is tenu ous at best, and anything more than rudimentary divinations is beyond him. Still, he enjoys the authority he has gained from the tribe members’ beliefs and does nothing to dissuade them. To the contrary, Mjenir occasionally takes great pains to consult his oracles conspicuously before recommending a course ofaction to the tribe, such as when and where to find the best hunting. More often than not, his counsel stems not from any mystical revelation but from his deep study ofnatural lore. Nevertheless, the tribe enjoys the spectacle and praises Mjenir’s gift when his advice bears fruit. Mjenir had a son, Olaf, the sole offspring ofhis short marriage to a now long-dead wife. Olafdid not have his father’s gift for speaking with spirits or his curiosity about the world around him, instead training as one ofthe tribe’s warriors. Perhaps as a result oflosing his mother at a young age and growing up with a father who seemed more interested in conversing with birds and squirrels, Olafwas more quiet and reserved than the other warriors. When a girl named Hedrun began to manifest strange abilities and was shunned by the rest ofthe tribe, Olafwas drawn to the young woman, notjust for her beauty but for the loneliness they both endured. Mjenir had mistrusted Hedrun’s abilities from the start, not least ofall because they were greater than his own. Though the girl apparently had no control over her gifts, Mjenir saw her as a potential threat to his position ofimportance in the tribe. When he belatedly realized how fascinated Olafwas with the young woman, it heightened Mjenir’s fear that 1-ledrun would steal away everything that belonged to him. He forbade Olaffrom seeing the girl, which naturally had the effect ofdriving his son straight into Hedrun’s arms. Tragically, jealous Auril would allow Hedrun no mortal love, and her power froze Olafto death at Hedrun’s touch. When Mjenir learned ofOlaf’s death, he brought his son’s body before Kinglarund as proofofthe danger that Hedrun posed to the tribe. Though he could easily have demanded her life in payment for Olaf’s, Mjenir feared that he would be haunted by the vengeful spirit ofone so great. Instead, he strengths—their courage, fortitude, and knowledge of the land—will enable them to endure. Jarund’s age and experience make him a cau tious leader. Because he does not long for glory as the younger warriors do, he is more apt to adopt a defensive position in battle and negotiation, opting to endure an enemy’s assault and wait to see what develops rather than extend himselfin an attempt to achieve a quick resolution. Jarund commits to action only ifhe believes that a failure to do so would place his tribe at greater risk than would holding back. When he acts, it is with all the strength and fury one would expect ofa barbarian war leader. Mjenir Tormhaalt Shaman ofthe Elk Tribe Mjenir Tormhaalt is the shaman ofthe Elk Tribe, and perhaps its most influential member after King Jarund. Though nearly as old as Jarund, Mjenir looks ten years younger, for he has not carried the burden ofrule nor endured the hardships ofbattle. He has icy blue eyes and platinum blond hair, which hangs in long braids across his shoulders.

demanded that she be banished from the tribe, believing that the girl would meet her end in the jaws ofa wild beast. Now that the winter storms have come unseason ably soon, and the hunters have returned with tales ofa witch wandering the tundra, driving beasts and snow before her, Mjenir realizes that his decision to banish Hedrun might have been a mistake. He has not shared his suspicion ofthe Ice Witch’s true identity with anyone else, lest he be seen as having brought her vengeance down upon the Elk Tribe. Similarly, he opposed Hengar Aesnvaard’s suggestion to find aid in Ten-Towns because he fears repercus sions ifoutsiders discover the witch’s identity and the source ofher grievance. Instead, he urgesJarund to placate the gods with sacrifices and keep the tribe on the move to stay ahead ofthe witch’s attacks. In his heart, though, Mjenir knows he cannot outrun winter’s fury, and he seeks a way to counter the witch’s threat without admitting his culpability to the rest of his tribe. Perhaps he can put a friend or a foe in the witch’s way—someone who might stand a chance of destroying her. Warriors of the Elk Tribe Hengar Aesnvaard: As a young man, Hengar Aesnvaard grew up hearing tales ofWulfgar Dragonsbane, the Elk king who slew the dragon Icingdeath and, along with the other famed Com panions, saved Ten-Towns from the army ofAkar Kessell at the Battle oflcewind Dale. To hear his fellow tribe members tell it, Wulfgar’s glorious vic tories validated the Reghed way oflife. The king’s loyalty to the tribes, his trust in his own strength to win through adversity, and the restless wanderings ofhis late career all spoke to the virtues that Hengar had been taught since he was a boy. Hengar took a different lesson from the tales. Where others spoke ofWulfgar’s loyalty in rejecting a life with the dwarves to return to his rightful place among his people, Hengar saw a sense of duty. Where they spoke ofWulfgar’s reliance on his own might, Hengar saw the hero’s reliance on his friends. And where some pointed to the famed king’s journeys as a rejection ofthe sentimentality of citydwellers, who foolishly die rather than leave their precious homes, Hengar saw the searching ofa man who no longer felt at home among his people. Now a seasoned warrior ofthe Elk Tribe, Hengar still has a habit ofseeing things differently from THE REGHED GLACIER At the eastern edge of Icewind Dale, the frozen tundra meets the great expanse of the Reghed Glacier. Even the barbarians rarely venture to this bleak and barren area. Icy winds pour offthe glacier, robbing the plains below ofmoisture, and the glacier’s slow advance and retreat scours the earth of whatever life takes root there. Great earthen walls, left behind by the glacier’s past retreats, stand guard over the empty tundra. The barbarians say these walls were erected by the giants in the Dawn Ages to mark the boundaries oftheir kingdoms, and many otherwise brave warriors refuse to range beyond them. I / / I 11 - -

e his fellows. lie has never understood the aloof’ness between the Reghed tribes and the people ofTenTowns when there is so much each could offer the other. But on the few times when he broached the subject, he nras harshly rebuked by his peers, so now Hengar mostly keeps his thoughts to himself. Recently, with the sightings ofthe Ice Witch, Hengar has had new reason to speak his mind. When the warriors spoke ofthe witch’s apparent invincibility and Mjenir offered no advice other than to flee, Hengar decided it was time to seek the aid ofthe people ofTen-Towns. With King Jarund’s blessing, he traveled to Bryn Shander in search of a wizard or someone else knowledgeable in the ways ofmagic who might be able to tell him how the Elk Tribe can fight this new menace. Soren Arnsfirth: Fledrun’s father is one ofthe older warriors in the Elk Tribe, notable for his skyblue eyes and his quiet demeanor. A simple man with no insight into the workings ofspirits or the mysteries ofgods and magic, Soren was confused and frightened by the strange abilities his daughter began to manifest as she grew. lie felt helpless as he watched the tribe turn its back on her, not knowing how to comfort his daughter or even relate to her. Soren sought Mjenir’s counsel on many occasions, but always came away frustrated by the shaman’s insistence on treating Hedrun as a threat to be managed rather than as a loved one to be helped. Although Soren lacks the courage to speak out against the shaman, he resents Mjenir for turning his back on Hedrun and banishing her from the tribe. His hesitancy stems also from the possibility that Mjenir might have been right to cast the girl out, and as a grieving father himself, Soren can understand Mjenir’s bitterness over the loss ofhis son. With the recent sightings ofthe Ice Witch, Soren has begun to think that Hedrun might have survived her banishment. His conjecture has no basis other than his hope that his daughter yet lives, so he has told no one ofhis thoughts. lie has voiced support for Mjenir’s policy ofavoiding encounters with the witch, since Soren does not want to see his daughter killed even ifshe has become a monster. EVERMELT A sacred site to the Reghed tribes, Evermelt is an oasis ofwarmth in the midst ofthe frozen desert, a hot spring that bubbles up at the foot ofthe Reghed Glacier. Walled offfrom the howling wind and warmed by heat from the depths ofthe earth, Evermelt is a sanctuary and a refuge. It is also one ofthe entrances to the old lair ofthe white dragon Icingdeath, and it remains a place ofterrible danger even a century after the creature’s death. Sacred Pool: The turquoise waters ofthe sacred pool appear still and calm. Sometimes a glint ofgold is visible at the bottom ofthe pool—perhaps a glimpse ofa mineral embedded in one ofthe colorful boul ders that make up the glacial moraine. Those who enter the water risk being caught in a current that cuts down into the heart ofthe glacier. A character can fight the current and stay afloat in the pool, or navigate the narrow chute without injury, by suc ceeding on a hard Strength check. Under the influence ofHedrun the Ice Witch, members ofthe Tribe ofthe Bear who have sworn ;;: :E:b :— .Icindati’sIaW Ø4 IC ¶ .- t I 2O Stream Chasm ,. .

1! -Thp_ -‘ ‘ VI . v4 The •: c Dragon’s /ij Ii [4t Lair “ 4 - k. •:. allegiance to Auril camp around the pooi to guard their sacred site in the dragon’s old lair. Chute and Tunnel: The narrow chute leading from the pooi widens as it descends, allowing creatures that get caught in the flow an opportunity to draw a breath ofbitterly cold air as they continue downward. The descent presents the threat ofdrowning and the danger ofinjury as the waters smash against the ice walls. Waterfall Cavern: No sooner has the tunnel widened than the stream drops into a cascade over a shelfofice, plunging into a high, domed ice cave hung withjagged icicles. The floor ofthe cave is strewn with sharp ice spikes, like stalagmites formed as water drips from the ceiling high above. In some places, tall columns ofice join the floor and ceiling in crystalline structures that scatter what little sunlight filters through the ice roof above. Characters hurtling down the tunnel can attempt to catch themselves before plummeting over the waterfall, but the icy walls make that task extremely difficult. As Wulfgar did, a character can attempt a hard Strength check tojump from the edge ofthe waterfall and catch an icicle or ice column so as to make a more controlled descent. Those who fail drop thirty feet onto the jagged ice below. Most ofthe water drains offthrough a narrow channel in the floor, but some ofthe waterfall’s spray, already halffrozen, collects in strangely beautiful heaps ofice particles that further scatter the light. Several tunnels lead on from the cavern, meandering farther into the glacier’s vast expanse. Some run without interruption until they finally close off, and others end suddenly where the water spills down narrow crevasses. Unexplored tunnels might open into other caverns, from which yet more passages branch. The Dragon’s Lair: The widest tunnel from the waterfall cavern leads to the enormous ice cave that was once the lair ofthe white dragon Ingeloakasti mizilian, which the barbarians called Icingdeath. Though the dragon was slain by the Elk Tribe hero Wulfgar over a century ago, its frozen remains lie here still, its desiccated flesh frozen to its bones, the great icicle that stabbed its heart still lodged in the creature’s ribs. The cultists ofAuril who have dis covered this lair revere the remains as ifthey were a manifestation ofthe Frostmaiden herself. x4 :1 :_2 1 , 9j: :i’V 5.-. :‘ --- ___ — ,: .. At the base ofthegreLtglaCjer oJthe Iüddeiz offin a small deli where one place ice spurs wound through broken rfts and boulders was a the barbarians called Everinelt. A hot springfrd a small pool, freezing the wariiej waters waging a relentless battle against icefloes and temperatures TribesmeTi who stranded inland by early 5110Ws, soughtcould notfind their way to the sea with the reindeer herd, often refuge at Everineltfor even in the coldest months ofwjnter ulifrozen, vapors sustaining water could befound here. And the warming ojthe pool made the ternperatires ofthe innnediate area bearable, fiiot comfortable ... —The Crystal Shard

THE DWARVES Heirs ofthe once-mighty kingdom ofDelzoun, the dwarves ofthe North are a scattered remnant ofa great people. Delzoun, the Northkingdom, arose when the dwarves were a flourishing race and expanded outward from greater kingdoms in the southern lands. It was the most grand and glorious ofseveral kingdoms founded across the North, and it thrived for almost four thousand years before its fall fifteen hundred years ago. At its height, Delzoun stretched four hundred miles from east to west, with great citadels aboveground (of which Adbar and Felbarr still survive) and vast tracts of Underdark caves, mines, and tunnels. 1)elzoun slid into decline as the dwarves’ num bers were whittled away in endless wars against goblins. orcs, and other monsters. One by one, their holdings—including the fortresses ofAscore and Gauntlgrym, and the subterranean network ofthe Fardrimm—fell to invaders that came out ofthe mountains and threats that rose up from the Underdark. Though surface outposts such as Citadel Adbar and Citadel Felbarr remained in dwarven hands long after I)elzoun’s fall, they were cut offfrom each other and continued to diminish slowly over the centuries. Before the fall ofDelzoun, a large clan ofdwarves led by Gandalug Battlehainmer established a mithral mine just west ofthe kingdom and named it Mithral Hall. The Battlehammer dwarves and their allies mined beneath the hall for centuries, growing wealthy as they traded with merchants from across the North. But they delved too deeply, inadvertently opening a portal to a shadowy plane and allowing the shadow dragon Shimmergloom to enter their halls. Shimmergloom scattered the dwarves ofMithral Hall and made its lair among the deepest mines. The fleeing dwarves spread throughout the North, some taking refuge with their kin in Citadel Adbar. Most of Clan Battlehammer, though—including the prince of Mithral Hall, young Bruenor—fled the region entirely and came to Icewind I)ale. Thus, the dwarves ofthe dale are a remnant of a remnant. These members ofClan Battlehammer established their mines in the valley alongside Kel yin’s Cairn and lived in the dale for two centuries. When Bruenor Battlehammer found lost Mithral Hall, his clanjoined him in reclaiming it and aban doned Icewind I)ale entirely. Over the next decades, perhaps two hundred dwarves returned to Icewind Dale, having grown accustomed to life in the wintry region (though they remained loyal to the kings ofMithral Hall). Now ruled by a cousin ofthe Battlehammer line, Stokely Silverstream, the dwarves ofKelvin’s Cairn continue their old ways, mining the scant veins ofiron that run beneath the tundra and crafting the finest weap oris, armor, and tools available in Icewind Dale. The dwarves ofthe dale are in a situation less bleak than a century ago, not so obviously doomed to eventual oblivion. Young dwarves are more coininonly seen in the mines and tunnels ofthe valley, and laughter more often echoes in the halls. Not that the dwarves are any less gruff, stern, or taciturn; they weather the hardships oflife in Icewind Dale with their characteristic stoic silence. But now, visitors from Mithral Hall arrive with nearly every cara van, come to visit kin. And rather than lament lost Mithral Hall, they toast its kings in their feasts—King Connerad, who sits on the throne now, and King Bruenor, who liberated it a century ago. The dwarves ofKelvin’s Cairn live in their mines, but some parts ofthe mines are more hospitable than others. As iron veins ran out, the dwarves converted the underground caverns into living spaces—homes, forges, shops, and the like. Roughhewn walls scarred by miners’ picks were smoothed and squared or carved into perfect circles. Hearths were lit in alcoves where iron had been dug out from the stone. I)oors were fitted into stone archways and floors were leveled, creating all the comforts of dwarven homes. They had niade their home in the rocky valley between the two northerllflhost oft}ie three lakes lonj before any hwnans, other than the barbarians, had come to icewind Dale. They were a poor rernflallt ofwhat had once been a thrh’ifl dwarvcfl society a band ofreftiee5 beaten and broken by the loss of their jioineland and heritage. They continued to dwindle in numbers, their elders dying as much of sadness as old age. Though the mmmii under the fields qft}ie rejion was 8ood, the dwarves seemed destined tofade away into oblivion. —The Crystal Shard 7—

The cleft ofearth that stretches south from the foot ofKelvin’s Cairn is known to the people ofIcewind Dale as the dwarven valley. For almost as long as people have been fishing the lakes, the dwarves of Clan Battlehammer have been living in the valley and mining its depths. Visitors who stand at the val ley’s edge can see the dwarven tunnels running in rows along the walls, connected by narrow walkways, and hear the faint ringing ofhammer strikes carried on the wind. Those who pick their way down the dizzying switchback at Daledrop are transported to a different realm entirely. Gone is the howling glacial wind, replaced by the clangorous echoes ofaxes striking on steel, hammers pounding out iron, and picks chipping away at the mountain’s stone. The wide-open expanses ofthe lakes and tundra are replaced by the towering walls ofthe valley, blocking out any sight ofthe surrounding lands. Even the craggy profile ofKelvin’s Cairn is transformed by the view from the valley floor. What others think ofas the mountain is, to the dwarves, simply its peak. The heart ofKelvin’s Cairn is what lies beneath, deep in its tunnels and mines. The Dwarven Halls At first glance, the valley at the foot ofthe mountain often seems desolate. No buildings or other signs of habitation are evident except for the stone stairs and walkways carved into the cliffside. It is behind those walls ofstone, hidden from view, that the dwarves ofKelvin’s Cairn go about their daily lives. In these troubled times, sentries wander the valley and stand guard at various points on the map on the facing page (marked as areas 1, 2, and 3). Lining the tunnels that bore into the valley’s sides are the dwarven halls—winding rows ofliving quarters, meeting halls, dining halls, storerooms, forges, temples, kitchens, and armories. The map enlarges these halls and flattens them vertically. The complex is made of a large number ofsinall chambers opening onto the main tunnels, stacked two or sometimes three high, with carved staircases leading to the higher doors. Most ofthe living quarters are modest, consisting ofa single room with a table, bed, and trunk, or occasionally a suite ofrooms for a large family. The meeting and dining halls are much larger, since these are the areas where the dwarves most fre quently congregate. They are set with great tables THE DWARVEN VALLEY

.-r and benches and decorated with intricate stone carv ings and metalwork. The forge is the heart of any dwarven hail, and every time the dwarves dig a new tunnel, the first space they carve out is a new forge room. Dwarven forges are much more spacious than those found in human cities—the latter typically are the provenance ofa single specialist with perhaps a few assistants, but the forge in a dwarven community is used by nearly everyone. The dwarves who are loyal to Stokely Silverstream have gathered within this mile-long hall and named it Battlehammer Hold (area 4), after their clan. About eighty dwarves live in this part ofthe valley, and at any given time about twenty-five ofthem are on guard duty or patrolling the road. These dwarves live in twelve family homes cut into the walls; in most cases, two families live in each home so that the whole population can fit within this single, easily patrolled area. The westernmost home on the south side ofthe hall belongs to Dam Stokely Silverstream, the leader ofthese dwarves and, before Baerick’s rise, ofthe whole valley. The large hexagonal chamber on the north side of the hall is the community forge, where the dwarves continue to smelt what little iron they’re able to bring up from the mines and work it into the items that they trade with Ten-Towns. The forge chamber has become a sort oftown hall, where the remaining loyal dwarves discuss the pressing issues that face the community. Baerick Hanunerstone now leads the dwarves of Kelvin’s Cairn from his seat in the Halls ofBlack Ice (area 5), on the eastern side ofthe dwarven valley. Like Stokely’s dwarves on the west side, Baerick’s fol lowers have consolidated their homes into a single mile-long stretch oftunnel that is easily defensible— though the enemies that Baerick imagines are not the same ones that Stokely fears. About sixty dwarves live in the Halls ofBlack Ice, sharing space in a dozen large family homes. The easternmost home on the south side ofthe hall belongs to Baerick, and on the other side ofthe hall is his forge, where he crafts black ice weapons and armor to outfit his comrades. At the moment, the forge room holds about five hundred pounds of unworked black ice. An enormous round chamber in the eastern mines is the dwarves’ temple (area 6), honoring their four most important deities: Moradin, the head ofthe dwarf pantheon, called the Dwarffather and Soul Forger; Berronar Truesilver, the Revered Mother; Clanggedin Silverbeard, the Father ofBattle; and Dumathoin, the Keeper ofSecrets under the Mountain. Each deity has an altar on a dais against the circular wall, and a great forge stands in the center ofthe temple, used by dwarf smiths to create their finest works in honor ofthe dcities. Before the recent troubles began, the forge was kept burning continuously, but its flames have gone out since it has been left untended. The Mines The first tunnels dug by the Battlehammer clan after its arrival in Icewind Dale traced the veins of iron ore the dwarves found riddling the valley walls. Over the ensuing decades, the most accessible veins were dug out, so the dwarves were forced to delve deeper to find more ore. The original mining tunnels were expanded and turned into living quarters as the miners pushed farther into the mountain’s roots. Now, after three centuries of activity, the mines extend into the bowels ofKelvin’s Cairn. Just reaching the active loads requires nearly half an hour’s walk from the valley floor, and anyone who wasn’t raised to navigate below ground will likely become lost in the twisting and looping tunnels. As with the living quarters, the map simplifies the layout ofthe mines, showing only the largest tun nels. The mines are cramped and dark, and the air is stale. Anyone taller than a dwarfis forced to stoop when traveling through the passages. Even at their widest, the tunnels don’t have enough room for two people to move freely. Torches and lamps burn dimly in the poor air, and casting any kind offire spell consumes so munch ofthe available oxygen that creatures in the area are left laboring to breathe. Ajunction in the western mines that served as a staging area for expeditions into the newer tun nels, the nexus (area 7) is more than two miles from the shaft entrance in the valley. It is a large chamber that incorporates both a forge and a small shrine to Dumathoin, which is typical for new mines in the valley. The Abandoned Tunnels Over the years, many dwarven tunnels fell out ofuse. A tunnel might be abandoned because of exhaustion of a nearby mineral lode, the movement of clans out ofthe valley (or into other parts ofit to be near their kin, infestations ofmonsters or vermin, or cave-ins. Sometimes a tunnel is reclaimed years later when new ore veins are discovered, clan members return home, and vermin are driven out. Often, though, the dwarves excavate new passages better suited to their needs, resulting in an expanding network oftunnels that extend ever farther beyond the valley walls. The greatest concentration ofabandoned passages is at the southern end ofthe valley, where a hundred h ..

. . years ago the dwarves lured the army ofAkar Kessell into the area before they collapsed many ofthe tun nels, burying the wizard’s forces beneath the fallen rock. Although many orcs and goblins died that day and the strategy saved the valley from further incursion by the wizard’s army, the dwarves lost much of their home in the bargain. Following the war, the dwarves planned to exca vate and reclaim the southern tunnels but were distracted by the reclamation ofMithral Hall. After many members ofClan Battlehainmer left the valley to return to their ancestral hall, the remaining dwarves were too few to manage the task, and the existing tunnels were spacious enough to accommo date their reduced numbers. Although the population ofthe dwarves in the valley has swelled since that time, they have cut new homes from the stone, so the southern tunnels remain abandoned. Many ofthem are still choked with debris or rigged to collapse at a moment’s notice. Akar Kessell lurks in the deep mines (area 8), from where he sends plagues ofzombies to harass the dwarves who are loyal to Stokely while encourag ing Baerick Hammerstone in his depravity. The most significant zombie attack to date, which left no survi vors, involved a mining party that had established a camp in the nexus. DENIZENS OF THE Since arriving in Icewind Dale as a lad, the longtime leader ofthe dwarves ofKelvin’s Cairn has become one ofthe oldest residents ofthe valley. Stokely Silverstream has the mountain in his bones, say the dwarves—a comment on his age and his uncanny knack for navigating the mountain’s depths, a skill that has enriched the Battlehainmer clan over the years as Stokely has unearthed new lodes in the old mines. But now the discovery ofzombies—dead dwarves animated by necromancy—in the mines has eroded the dwarves’ confidence in Stokely’s leadership. Some have blamed him for the attacks, accusing Stokely ofpushing too far into the mountain too fast and placing the miners in danger. Others have charged Stokely with being too timid in the face of the attacks. Normally, such talk would bring rebukes from the clan members who have prospered under Stokely’s leadership—but the taint ofthe black ice, which is prevalent in the valley, has made the usu ally level-headed dwarves short-tempered and quick to find fault with one another. Few ofthein are cognizant ofthe change in their behavior, and no one knows the true reason for it. The situation has recently come to a head in a schism that has erupted in the valley. On one side is Baerick Hammerstone, one ofthe first to discover the black ice, and other dwarves who have suecuinbed to its influence. On the other side is Stokely, with dwarves who have not yet given in to its evil. Each side has its soldiers, and the schism could turn into a full-fledged civil war. Helda Silverstream Merchant ofMirabar Born ofthe union between clans Silverstream and Battlehammer, Helda Silverstream is a young dwarf who inherited the formidable cunning ofher father’s kin as well as the bravery associated with her mother’s name. Worldly as well as wise, she has already seen more ofthe world in her sixty years than her uncle has in his many long winters. After spending her formative years hearing about the vaunted clan Battlehammer and the splendor ofher mother’s clan’s seat at Mithral Hall, Helda took it upon herself to travel there at the tender age ofthirty-five, defying her parents and the conventions ofdwarven society to leave her home at so young an age. Helda’s father asked Stokely to forbid her from leaving the valley, but the elder Silverstream—whether because ofhis own regret over never having visited the vaunted dwarven hold, or because he realized that nothing he could say would sway the determined young dwarf— gave Helda his blessing, so she left with the next caravan heading south out oflcewind Dale. Although Helda’s fiery personality was forged in the valley ofKelvin’s Cairn, her skills were tempered in the bowels ofMithral Hall. There she learned mining, smithcraft, and the arts ofwar and diplomacy from her mother’s people, displaying the earnestness ofa dwarfwho had grown up in a harsh land that could ill accommodate the time required to spend so long at study. Even in their protected valley home, the dwarves ofKelvin’s Cairn struggle to live through each winter, hunting for food and resources and .‘j VALLEY The dwarves who live in the valley are sharply divided into two camps, represented by their leaders—Stokely Silverstream and Baerick Hammerstone. The arrival ofStokely’s niece, Helda, who tries to bring adventurers with her to the valley, might tip the balance in Stokely’s favor. Stokely Silverstream Dam ofthe Dwarven Valley

Fl fending offthe orcs, giants, and other creatures that would claim the valley’s shelter. The clan members in Icewind Dale must work hard simply to survive—they do not have the luxury ofa liberal education. Helda did not intend to spend the rest ofher winters in Mithral Hall, so after ten years there, she moved on to Mirabar, to seek a life and a fortune ofher own. Though she makes her home in that city, she travels throughout the North, bringing her metalwork and jewelry to customers ranging from Waterdeep to Icewind Dale. Helda Silverstream has gray eyes and dreadlocks oflong, mahogany hair that she pulls back behind her head. She wears the hooded silver-stitched blue cloak ofher clan, fastened with a silver clasp in the shape ofa dwarven war axe, marking her as a warnor ofthe Axe ofMirabar. Baerick Hammerstone Master ofblack ice Armed with a great maul fashioned ofblack ice and girded in plate mail made ofthe same stuff, Baerick Hammerstone is the leader ofa group ofxenopho bic dwarves who have severed ties with Stokely Silverstream and brought the dwarven valley to the brink ofcivil war. Until recently, he was merely a simple stone carver living peaceably with his fellow dwarves. Sev eral months ago, Bacrick’s fortunes changed when he joined a small expedition formed by a wizard’s apprentice from Luskan. The group began near the summit ofKelvin’s Cairn, where Baerick helped to unearth the undead form ofAkar Kessell, the longdead Tyrant oflcewind Dale. Under Kessell’s leadership, the expedition journeyed to the northern slopes ofthe Spine ofthe World. After much searching, Baerick found what the undead wizard sought: a black stone as smooth as glass. Though it seemed translucent at first glance, a trick ofthe eye caused it to look darker the longer Baerick squinted at it, as ifthe stone were drinking in light. More impressively, when he took his pick to the stone, he could not damage it. While Akar Kessell dithered about what to do with the substance, another miner tried to seize the stone, and Baerick buried his pick in the other dwarf’s skull. The rest ofthe miners set upon him and one another in a mad scramble to acquire the strange stone, until only Baerick survived—much to Kessell’s amusem*nt. With the wizard’s help, Baerick gathered as much ofthe black ice as the wiz ard’s magic could help him carry and returned to Kelvin’s Cairn. Back at his workshop, Baerick set about trying to carve the stone. He discovered that heating the stone in a forge softened it enough to be carved, and he began fashioning small trinkets from the samples he had brought back. Baerick put his “black ice” trin kets, as he dubbed them, up for sale, and they spread quickly among the dwarves. With Kessell’s help and encouragement, Baerick excavated more ofthe black ice and sold his trinkets even more widely. The wizard apprentice who first hired him acted as his agent in Ten-Towns, and soon Baerick received com missions for other objects made ofblack ice—knives, fishing hooks, even a ram for one ofthe boats on Lac Dinneshere. Eventually, he began to experiment with fashioning weapons and armor from the black ice. What Baerick did not realize was that the black stone was ice infused with the remnants ofthe Cryshal-Tirith erected by Akar Kessell over a cen tury ago. Forged from the essence ofthe evil Crystal Shard, the Cryshal-Tirith carried a trace ofthe shard’s taint, and thus so does the black ice formed from its remnants. The taint slowly corrupts anyone who comes into possession ofthe black ice, although the effect is more pronounced in those who have more contact with the substance. —