Conquest of the Lonely Coast
The dangers of the Lonely Coast are everywhere
The furthest flung outpost of a Varisia, turbulent waters and forbidding, Mierani Forest separate the Lonely Coast from the glittering lights of civilization. The gloomy, trackless Mierani Forest constricts humanity’s tenuous grasp upon the Lonely Coast. In the twilight world beneath the forest’s boughs, goblinoid tribes incessantly war against one another. Occasionally, a few tribes band together under a charismatic war leader and bloody war engulfs the Lonely Coast.
Built on the ruins of Arsmeril, The Village of Swallowfeld is the center of adventure in the lonely coast, many come seeking fame and fortune, few succeed and most are never seen again. Whispers that ghosts of an elder age stalk the deepest, unknowable reaches of this ancient woodland. Along with the forsaken holy places and forts of a long‐fallen elder civilization, a debased, twisted race of half‐goblins haunts the forest’s remotest reaches.
Deep within the forest, a nameless range of rugged, tree shrouded hills thrusts upwards. Tales of these scarcely explored, monster‐infested uplands are legion. At the heart of the range, a deep gash shatters the hills. This narrow, rock‐choked defile – the Twisted Gorge – features in many taproom tales. Here the frigid waters of the Dark Mere birth the swiftly flowing Arisum and a lofty series of cascades tumble over slick, broken cliffs. Passageways and caverns honeycomb the unstable canyon walls.
Dangerous monsters dwell there in profusion. The impregnable fortress of Caer Syllan and the redoubtable Lord Locher protect the folk of the Lonely Coast while they scratch a living from the surrounding farmland or toil in their lord’s mines. From here flows the Locher’s lifeblood – precious stones and metals – to the kingdom’s bustling markets. Pirates sail the surrounding storm‐tossed waters while smugglers ply their trade on moonless, fog‐shrouded nights eluding pirates and Lord Locher’s patrols alike in pursuit of gold.
The lost treasure of Peder Uren, a famed pirate who disappeared almost fifty years ago, yet lies hidden somewhere along the coast. Legend and rumor of it have spawned many fated, ill‐advised expeditions. Countless old mine workings pierce the Lonely Coast’s proud cliffs. Many are nothing but abandoned water‐filled shafts. Others are truly ancient. All are dangerous.