FIELDS OF THE DEAD
The expanse known as the Fields of the Dead has
been the battleground for myriad wars and skirmishes
over the centuries. It is said that the hills that dot the
countryside here all hold the dead, and there is some
measure of truth to that-many of the hillocks are
indeed barrows, raised to house the fallen dead of one
faction or nation on either side of a war. I have seen
more than one such barrow, either broken open from
the outside by those seeking lost treasures, or somehow
broken from within.
The Fields of the Dead is a vast, rolling plain of
windswept grasses that seems to go on to the hori-
zon in every direction. Regular travelers through the
area speak of the "whispers of the dead," the popular
term for the sound that results when a breeze rustles
the grass. The wind almost always blows here, and it
isn't uncommon to smell salt in the air even dozens of
leagues inland.
Though this land is uncivilized, it isn't barren. Even if
many monsters hide in the tall grass or build burrows
in the sides of the hills, the fields represent an opportu-
nity for shepherds and free folk to claim a plot that no
one else has yet occupied. Small, stout farmhouses and
even a few walled enclosures that contain several such
dwellings can occasionally be found a short distance
away from the roads and rivers that run through or near
the Fields.
The folk of this land are kind but wary, usually willing
to share their wells or cisterns, and part with the goods
they store away in return for goods in trade. I have met
a few who show greater hospitality, letting strangers
make camp within the shelter of the low stone walls that
surround their steadings. They are a good and honest
people, by and large.
Away from the vicinity of these settlements, there are
threats aplenty. Small bands of nomadic humanoids
traverse these grasslands, as do monsters from out of
the Wood of Sharp Teeth to the south, the Trollclaws to
the north, or the serpent kingdom of Najara to the east.
Occasionally, one of the barrows bulges and vomits
forth undead, wakened by some instinct known only to
them, or a patch of terrain buckles and collapses in on
itself, revealing a sinkhole to warrens beneath.
DRAGONSPEAR CASTLE
Though the structure is crumbled and perpetually
shrouded in mist, more than one of the caravans I've
guided through these lands have seen Dragonspear
Castle from afar and expressed a desire to seek shelter
there. As I tell them at such times, it is better to seek
shelter inside an opened tomb in these lands, and
crawl in to huddle among the warrior dead within, than
to seek anything like sanctuary from Dragonspear.
Built by an adventurer named Daeros after he found
a wealth of gems in a sunken dwarven settlement,
Dragonspear Castle was erected above the very cav-
erns where that settlement-fallen Kanaglym-was
interred. Two hundred years ago, sorcerous machina-
tions brought about the fall of Daeros and the opening
of an infernal portal in the depths of the castle.
After that event, Dragonspear's ruins were occu-
pied by hobgoblins and myriad bands of bandits, until
Waterdeep and Baldur's Gate sent troops to root them
out. Discovering that the portal yet existed, but unable
to destroy it, they established the Hold of Battle Lions,
a fortified temple of Tempus, in an attempt to prevent
anything from coming through. In time, though, devils
broke through new portals inside the castle's walls and
overran the defenders.
Then came the Second Dragonspear War, more than
a century ago, during which a strange cloak of mist
settled over the castle, and the forces of Waterdeep
and Baldur's Gate once more attacked. This time, they
defeated the devils, leaving the castle ruined and still
cloaked in mists. At least one other time since then,
the devils have punched back through, amassing other
fell creatures to attack the nearby settlements (notably
Daggerford), but they have been fought off by adventur-
ers each time. The most recent stories tell of heroes
confronting Red Wizards of Thay and other devilry. I
pray that this will be the last time such efforts are nec-
essary, but somehow, I think not.
Today, Dragonspear remains crumbled and mist-
shrouded. Rumors say that the castle-seemingly
quiescent-has become home to undead horrors of some
sort, but no one seems terribly inclined to investigate
such claims, so long as they don't threaten the folk who
live nearby. Some interested parties out of Baldur's Gate
offered me more than a fair amount of coin to investi-
gate the truth of these rumors, though I demurred. I
don't fancy myself an investigator or a spy, and I know
better than to seek out whatever foulness might have
taken hold in this place.TROLLCLAWS
A tangled landscape of rough hills along the north-
ern edge of the Fields of the Dead, the Trollclaws are
home to a great many of the regenerating, bloodthirsty
beasts. Exactly what makes these hills such prime
ground for trolls is unknown (and a favorite topic of
conversation around many of the campfires I've sat at
while passing through or near this place), but there's
no doubt that they dwell here in great numbers.
Those traveling south to Baldur's Gate or north out
of the Fields of the Dead typically travel through the
Trollclaws. The Trollclaw Ford, so named for obvious
reasons, is the only place for leagues that wagons can
safely cross the Winding Water. Important as it is, the
site has been occupied by several forces over the years,
as evidenced by the ruined remnants of forts and similar
buildings nearby. But those claimants have always fallen
eventually to prolonged assaults by trolls. My advice is to
avoid the region entirely, but if you can't, keep a lit torch
handy at all times.HARTS VALE
-------
I have been to Hartsvale only once, and found it sur-
passingly beautiful each time. Its wonders are wild
and untamed, with even the so-called civilization of
the place exuding a kind of primal beauty that is found
nowhere else that I know of.CHAPTER 2 I THE SWORD COAST AND THE NORTH