Welcome To The Far North
Welcome To The Far North
Welcome To The Far North
North of the Spine of the World and west of the towering Reghed Glacier is a frigid expanse
few dare to explore, let alone inhabit. This icy land of windswept tundra recently became locked
in a perpetual, dark winter without reprieve.
Each night before midnight, the skies are taken by shimmering curtain of light—a beautiful
aurora that illuminates the night sky and fades before dawn. Whatever it is, this powerful magic
prevents the next day’s sun from rising above the horizon, turning midday into twilight and
trapping Icewind Dale in winter’s dark embrace, with no sunlight or warmth to melt the snow
and ice. This perpetual frost also barricades the mountain pass with blizzards and churns the
Sea of Moving Ice with blistering winds. These, in turn, discourage travelers from approaching
or leaving Icewind Dale, further isolating the region. Icewind Dale has thus been trapped in a
different reality from the rest of the world, for though the sun never rises over the dale, it
continues to rise everywhere else.
Icewind Dale is located in a region called the Far North, which is dominated by the Spine of
the World, a range of skyscraping, snow-covered peaks. These extend toward the Sword Coast,
which forms the western edge of the great continent of Faerûn and stretches southward for
thousands of miles. Ships and roads lead southbound travelers to a number of bustling ports
along the Sword Coast, including Luskan, the City of Sails (home to pirates as well as the
Arcane Brotherhood), Neverwinter, the City of Skilled Hands and Waterdeep, the City of
Splendors.
Most improbably of all, 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 of these 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 communities 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.
Ten-Towns didn’t spring up overnight. It started from humble beginnings four centuries ago.
Immigrants from all over Faerûn came here in search of escape or adventure and built a modest
trade post atop the hill where Bryn Shander now stands. One by one, settlements sprung up on
the shores of Maer Dualdon, Lac Dinneshere, and Redwaters. The ever-present threat of orcs
and other monsters compelled the poorly defended lakeside towns to turn Bryn Shander from a
modest hilltop trading post into a walled town capable of defending all Ten-Towners if and
when the worst comes.
Most of the towns contain trace evidence of the immigrant cultures that birthed them. This
evidence is carved into houses, statues, and other fixtures. For example, the dinosaur carvings
on the older buildings of Good Mead remind folk that many of its original settlers were Chultan.
Residents of Ten-Towns tend to remain indoors when they’re not working, since it’s so
frightfully cold outside, which gives each settlement a deathly quiet aspect. Most people who
venture outdoors are bundled up in so much cold weather clothing as to be barely recognizable,
and they don’t stand around long enough for the cold wind to get the better of them. They wear
layers of woolen clothing often topped off with fur cloaks. Under these heavy clothes and
cloaks, one resident looks very much the same as another. Outdoors, it’s hard to tell the people
of Ten-Towns apart—and easy for clever monsters to hide in their midst.
Auril’s winter spell has caused the population of Ten-Towns to dwindle and has heightened
rivalries that have simmered for years, turning neighboring towns against one another as
competition for resources becomes increasingly intense. The alliance of Ten-Towns won’t hold
if the mounting tribalism continues to threaten the common good.
The Ten Towns are small settlements, mostly dedicated to only a couple of activities that are
used to trade with the others.
The Reghed nomads eke out a meager existence on the desolate tundra of Icewind Dale, yet
this is a life to which they are accustomed. Auril’s everlasting winter has made hunting and
travel more challenging, to be sure, but the tribes are weathering these difficult times by
rationing their food and letting nothing go to waste. If anything, the Frostmaiden’s cruelty has
hardened the nomads’ determination to survive. By following herds for their food and
occasionally restocking on wood, the Reghed can get by without relying on trade. They shun
Ten-Towns and expect to prevail long after those feeble lights of civilization have been snuffed
out.
Although they originally descended from humans who were predominantly blue-eyed and fair-
haired, the Reghed tribes have assimilated other folk, adding new blood to their dwindling
ranks. 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 of their members settling in Ten-
Towns and abandoning their traditional ways. Of the remaining tribes — Elk, Tiger, Wolf, and
Bear — the Tribe of the Elk is the most prominent.
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 of deerskin and supported by beams of wood harvested from the Spine of the World or
the trees near Lonelywood.
A typical camp includes a ring of large tents that house the tribe’s king and the other important
members: its shaman, its most honored hunter, its greatest warrior, and the like. Each tent is
surrounded by campfires where warriors of the 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 Ten Towns for supplies and slaves, but only a
handful of such attacks have occurred in the last century, mostly launched by the small,
aggressive, and desperate Tribe of the Bear.
A Reghed camp is a somber and subdued place, except for the barking of sled dogs and the
sounds of children playing in the snow. The warriors and hunters like to conserve their strength
for when it’s needed, preferring to spend
their idle hours doing as little as possible.
Telling familiar stories and inventing new
ones that glorify the nomads’ outlook on life
are common pastimes, as is sharpening
weapons.