“Where the river runs dark, and the law is just a memory.”
Once a vital waypoint for travelers heading to the great city of Waterdeep, Mere is now a hollow reflection of its former self—a town where ambition turned to ruin, and ruin gave rise to darkness. Nestled along the banks of the Rithnal River, Mere was once renowned for its fine hardwoods and the master craftsmen who transformed them into ships, furniture, and tools prized across the land. It was a place of honest trade, protected by the vigilance of a proud warrior clan whose name was spoken with reverence across Skarn.
But that was before the Night of The Red Raids.
A brutal raid swept through Mere like a tempest, leaving its defenders slaughtered and its once-proud stronghold reduced to smoking rubble. The bandits who orchestrated the attack vanished into the hills, but their legacy of ruin remained. Without its protectors, Mere descended into chaos. Merchants rerouted their caravans. Wealthy patrons fled, leaving behind only their crumbling homes and empty storefronts.
In their absence, the desperate and the dangerous moved in.
Mere is now a town ruled by shifting factions, each vying for control of its crumbling streets. The once-thriving market square is a haven for smugglers and cutthroats, where whispered deals take place beneath the sagging awnings of abandoned stalls. The old town hall, once a proud seat of governance, serves as the base for the strongest gang in the region—The Black Axes, whose leader, it is said, drinks from a cup carved from the skull of the last clan chieftain.
They say the gangs are looking for a specific person. A person who is said to have the power to unite Mere… or destroy it. A quest given to those brave enough.
Yet not all in Mere have succumbed to the darkness. A stubborn few refuse to abandon their home. Fishers and ferrymen still ply the river, their eyes sharp for signs of danger. Artisans continue their craft behind locked doors, offering their wares only to those they trust. Even in its decay, Mere draws wanderers and outcasts who seek opportunity amid its lawless streets, lured by the promise of hidden wealth and whispered tales of the southern jungle’s forbidden treasures.
But survival in Mere requires more than cunning. Trust is a currency more precious than gold, and betrayal is never far behind. For those who dare to linger too long, the town offers but one lesson:
In Mere, the strong endure, and the weak are forgotten.
Credits
Art by stayinwonderland
DeviantArt: https://www.deviantart.com/stayinwonderland/art/The-Watchman-485602593