Lore Introduction

The winding mountain passages and hungering mists of Avardon welcome you, stranger, be you adventurer, scholar, fortune-seeker, or wayward soul. It seems this Domain of Dread draws people in, be it their intention to come here or elsewhere. A weathered people clings to the decaying remnants of what was once a prosperous domain, living in the shadow of old stories and eerie unease. Around fireplaces and tavern tables the common folk speak of fog-bound forests, twisting roads that lead one astray, wretched beasts in the mists, and the ancient bloodline of the noble house that holds dominion in these lands.

It was not always this way. For many generations the lands flourished under the guiding hand of House de Brasov, whose rule brought stability and prosperity to Avardon and its peoples. Under their control trade flourished along the mountain roads and scattered villages grew into thriving communities. That prosperity began to crumble after the death of Gabor de Brasov, a capable lord whose leadership had long kept nearby powers at bay. The network of informants of a longtime rival of the de Brasov family, House Steinberg, delivered news of the aged patriarch passing during one of those border skirmishes. The House Steinberg was quick to spread word that Gabor’s sons had died alongside him, leaving a power vacuum that they quickly seized the chance to fill.

The younger son, Istvan, was injured in a subsequent battle and returned to a nearby village to recover when he heard the news. Immediately furious, he dispatched a runner to report this treachery to his elder brother, Farkas. Unable to temper his wrath, Istvan took a  contingent of his men and rode out towards Livarun. In an outrage he rode to the doors of the manor Steinberg and in the ensuing uproar demanded a duel with one of the sons. The Steinbergs were quick to claim he lost his challenge and his men attempted to slay his opponent. The truth, spoken of in hushed voices, was that his challenge had been received by one of the Steinbergs’ treacherous man-at-arms' spears being thrust into his side, and his men cut down in short order.

These rumors reached Farkas before he made it into the city proper, fortunately for him. With his family shattered and their lands stolen and rightfully fearing further betrayal from the Steinbergs he retreated from the outskirts. Though known to those he met, word of him was spread under an assumed identity, affording him a chance to stir up the people’s support. Eventually those supporters included many of the nobles in the region, most of the warriors that had served his father, and a significant portion of the commoners. What all was done during those months remains the subject of rumor with most assuming feats of heroism and some whispering of darker deeds. Either way, he found the support he needed and his rebellion was able to rear its head and issue its own challenge. House Steinberg would face a reckoning for its treachery.

The war that ensued was swift and brutal. Most of the people were eager to see their exiled lord return to power and one by one Steinberg allies fell until the gates of Castle Valemoor were opened to Farkas once again. His victory ended with him at last named Count Farkas de Brasov the Reckoner, a popular hero, yet his first decree cast a bloody stain on his newly minted legacy. He ordered the complete and utter destruction of House Steinberg for their perfidious misdeeds. Every member, no matter their age, would be put to death and all their holdings confiscated. Whether every member of the house truly perished remains uncertain, but within three days their name was washed from the land of Avardon.

Not long after Count Farkas secured his rule, misfortune seemed to grow in this war-torn land. Fertile fields yielded scant harvests, disease began to spread among the population as famine ravaged them, and the wilderness seemed to grow restless. Strange figures were glimpsed in the forests and travelers vanished within the fog-choked passes that wind from village to village. Communities that had stood for generations fell silent, abandoned or destroyed, as monsters, illness, and hunger drove people toward Livarun. Amidst it all tragedy struck the Count’s growing family when the beloved Countess Valeria de Brasov passed in the delivery of their third daughter, at least so was publicly claimed. Rumors, which were met with harsh response and rebuke, said that it was not the harsh reality of childbirth that took the Countess’ life but that of her husband, angered that she had for a third time failed to deliver him a son to be his heir.

Over time the once-thriving domain collapsed inward until nearly all who remained alive clustered around the city beneath Castle Valemoor. The mists descended across the valleys and in those days the borders of Avardon seemed to grow uncertain and unpredictable. It’s hard to say when exactly the lands seemed to sever themselves from their place upon Toril, but before long trade from outside lands ran dry as caravan drivers and merchants seemed unable to find their way. Though it is not utterly cut off from the outside world, those who come here often find it difficult to leave again. Those that come intentionally seem to find greater odds of successful departure than those who got lost in the mists across Faerun and stumbled into these cursed lands.

Through these grim years the rule of Count Farkas de Brasov has remained the single constant the people of the realm could depend on, though given the iron grasp he kept on the withering lands some mutter discontent at this notion. Though rarely seen beyond the walls of his ancestral hold, his firm authority has preserved what fragile order has remained while the rest of the land crumbled around it. Some claim he is at last succumbing to the curse that haunts this land, some that he is part of it, but none can question his rule. The survivors from Livarun scavenged and took what they could from the ruins of the lost villages, leaving only the barest of ruins behind as they did what they could to attempt to maintain their own sense of normalcy rather than foolishly focusing on the greater fates of the land.

Only recently has Avardon begun to show signs of recovery. The outskirts of Livarun are no longer pushed back by the wilderness, even seeing some measure of rebuilding. Cautiously the people have begun to try and reclaim the farmland on the outskirts of the recovering town, and now people even speak of attempts to start pushing back into the dangerous wilderness to establish other communities so that the realm can begin to recover properly. An influx of outsiders seems to have coincided with this push, perhaps a boon from the lands themselves to combat its troubles.

Much of this fragile renewal is guided by the eldest two daughters of Count Farkas, though they are said to disagree extensively about the form their shared vision of a restored land should take. The oldest, Ilona de Brasov, seems to wish to gather soldiers and those who believe people must grow strong through hardship and vigilance, that they must cow the curse upon these lands into submission through might. Her middle sister, Katalin de Brasov, seems more inclined towards restoring the political and economic foundations that once made these lands so very prosperous. Their younger sister, Reka de Brasov, said to be sickly and rather enigmatic, is similar to her father in that she is almost never seen in the courts of the capital. Some claim her naively obsessed with old legends and the origins of the maladies that infect this land. Regardless of their differences, most locals seem to think the Count’s daughters are rising influences in the lands, perhaps even the cause of the slow reversal of fortunes that seems to be taking place.

Beyond Livarun’s fragile safety remains great danger. Ruined villages still lie scattered across the wilderness, beasts and monsters roam the forests, and the mists continue to drift unpredictably through the mountains. Avardon offers outsiders danger and opportunity in equal measure, be it that they came here by intent or misfortune. Brave adventurers find monsters in the wilds, scholars search for answers to forgotten questions, and ambitious fortune-seekers do their best to carve out their own slice of prosperity amongst the toil of regrowth.

The mists and the Dark Powers that dwell in them bring people here for reasons none truly understand, but the land has a way of remembering those who walk its roads. In a realm shaped by curses, bloodlines, tragedies, and superstition even the smallest action may become the beginning of a new legend. Every traveler in Avardon carves their own story, eventually becoming part of this land's tale.

What will you write upon this land, stranger?