PS: I worked hard to get this second update out. The romantic battlefield is over for now; next comes the main plot. Let's go, go, go~
Late December, 1360 by the Dalelands calendar, just one day before Midwinter.
As always, the Great Swamp lay frozen beneath drifting snow.
The Great Swamp lay at the easternmost edge of Cormyr. This marshland formed the border between Cormyr and Sembia. Neither side wanted to clear it, and neither paid it any attention unless the monsters within invaded their territory.
The region had always been deeply unappealing. Much of it consisted of primeval forests and untouched marshes, with trees blotting out the sky and swamps devoid of human habitation. The mosquitoes were vicious, and the climate was dreadful: unbearably hot in summer and bitterly cold in winter.
Worse still, the Great Swamp was home to gnolls, hobgoblins, lizardfolk, and trolls. The marsh was also notorious for harboring several small black dragons, one or two insane beholders, will-o'-wisps, and other strange creatures.
In the Realms, the ferocious creatures of the wilderness were not to be provoked lightly. Most adventurers understood this all too well. When a noble planned to conquer a region and turn it into his own fief, he generally had to consider three questions.
First, am I prepared to wage war against other races for decades or even centuries, with successive generations fighting bloody battles to prove to everyone that I am the master of this land?
Second, am I resolved to pour resources, manpower, and supplies into it for three to five generations regardless of cost, then wait several more generations to slowly recoup that investment?
Third, am I prepared for the possibility that, by focusing all my attention on expanding my territory, fighting security campaigns, and making further investments, I may