related to Ed Greenwood by Elminster

ARBREENAR lies in the mountainous south west corner of a region known as The Vast. This verdant farming country was once orc land, then briefly the dwarven land called – overgrandly, mind ye – The Realm of Glimmering Swords. The human mage Maskyr won a bit of land from the dwarves by plucking out one of his own eyes when a Dwarven king dared him to do so, and humans rushing in to settle, coupled with orcs coming back to shatter the dwarves in the underground Battle of Deepfires, swept away the dwarves. Ever since, the Vast has been home to various reckless, adventuresome, difficult, and on-the-run humans. Its four cities – for folk often deem Mulmaster to be a part of the Vast, for some reason that has always escaped me – aren’t exactly stable and easy-going places to dwell, now, are they? Calaunt, Tantras, and Ravens Bluff. I once spent the better part of a night being vigorously spanked by a young lady in Tantras, after I chose the wrong disguise to . . . but that’s another, longer tale, now; ye wanted the short one.’

‘I almost want the longer one, now,’ I told the fireplace innocently, passing the Old Mage a small box of chocolate mints. ‘What I really want to hear about, though, is Sarbreenar.’

‘The rolling fields of splendid farmland not good enough for ye, eh? The –"

‘Old Mage,’ I said as sternly as I could manage. ‘I don’t expect to live to be a thousand-something years old, okay? I do have a little of that ability known as patience, but ..."

Elminster almost grinned. ‘Sarbreenar,’ he announced grandly, as if beginning a lecture to a hall crammed with bored students, ‘is a hamlet that the more intrepid traveller may find just south of Elvenblood Pass, which carries the High Trail (the road south from Ravens Bluff, for the geographically-vague among ye) through the mountains, ultimately to such enthralling destinations as the fair metropolis of Tsurlagol, and the even fairer centre of civilisation height Procampur. The name of the pass is derived from the heroism of the elven hero Beluar, who led a small band of his kin to their deaths there in an orc ambush, in the days when Tuir was king over the Vast. Beluar’s Tomb stands in the centre of Sarbreenar, marked by an intricately-carved stone obelisk that has offered generations of pigeons a palatial home. Folk often pause to survey it as they pass – because the horsepond lies directly across the road from the grassy mound that holds Beluar and the rest of his riders.’

‘And what of Sarbreenar today?’ I asked quickly, hoping to nettle the Old Mage into revealing something interesting.

He merely fixed me with a knowing eye and chuckled. ‘The land rises abruptly in cliffs prone to avalanches, all around Sarbreenar. Nestled among the rocky ridges and pinnacles are a dozen or so narrow, wet valleys carved by mountain streams, and up all of them are farms where arthritic folk rear sheep and goats among the moss and the constant mists. Sarbreenar is their market town, their smithy, and their wagonworks; Torstan Holbrar crafts wheels as good as any to be had around the Sea of Fallen Stars, and keeps a large stock on hand to sell – for exorbitant prices, mind ye – to merchants whose wagons fall afoul of the hard roads.’

The Old Mage scratched his jaw thoughtfully and added, ‘the Lightsbloods are the lords and gentry thereabouts, betimes beridden with all the airs of the highnoses in Cormyr, too – for all that they started as caravan-robbers and skulking brigands raiding prospectors’ camps. Not that they’re particularly bad ... as nobility go.’ He chuckled. ‘It’s just that I find they usually don’t go far enough, if ye take my meaning.’

He let his smile slide down off his face and added, ‘But as for the place they fancy that they rule over... Travellers today usually look to stay at the Elk’s Roost, the local inn – ye know, a roadhouse sort of place. Ye can’t miss it; look for a muddy horse-yard by the road. As for local adventurers’ attractions, there’s a mage’s tower. It belongs to a man who styles himself the Shadow Mage, and hasn’t been seen for quite some time...so of course every adventuring band this side of Waterdeep who happens through town thinks his tower holds unguarded plunder with their names waiting on it. Not a few folk in Sarbreenar seem to delight in whispering tales of the old tower when they think adventurers’ ears are a-flapping.’

‘Recently Sarbreenar has been attacked by marauding hordes of ogres, hill giants and orcs. They smashed the walls with great boulders and demolished the northern half of the town. Lord Blacktree brought up troops from Ravens Bluff but it was too late to save Sarbreenar. Now the invaders have been driven off, the survivors are starting to rebuild the town as a city.’

Now read the full history of Sarbreenar?

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