The Approachable East

The Approachable East is a book series describing the eastern lands of Faerun. The books in the series are as follows:

The Approachable East, Vol. 1

Great Dukes and Duchesses, Lords and Ladies, and all who seek knowledge of the world: welcome! I have travelled far, seen much, and recorded all.

My odyssey began in a humble tavern, where I met a Rashemi mercenary. An approachable fellow, he offered me a tale in exchange for a drink. I accepted, and was soon rapt as one ale became six.

He told me the legends of his people, sharing their stories and culture. He told me of the lands he'd visited - from the Silver Marches to Calimshan, from the Moonshae Isles to the Plains of Purple Dust. The more he spoke, the more I realised I'd never travelled farther than Beregost. I felt like a fly, spending my short life buzzing about a latrine, ignorant of everything I was missing. Well, no more!

The next day I packed a bag and set out, following the Chionthar east. I would travel to Rashemen, see this magnificent world, and document it all.

The Approachable East, Vol. 2

[The pages are stained with dust and mud, but between screeds about hygiene while travelling on the road, your eyes settle on this section.]

There were those that warned me against straying from the river, but I was out searching for an adventure. And where better than the 'Fields of the Dead'?

Living in Baldur's Gate, one hears much about this grand, grassy plain, but one never visits. And for a place with such a desolate name, it is positively teeming with life! Well... perhaps not teeming, but there are honest farmers to be found there, and a large number of ravens.

Alas, I had no time to venture near the huge hills (or 'barrows' as the locals call them), but I am told that ancient artefacts are all but bursting out of the ground. A fine spot for a little relic hunting.

The Approachable East, Vol. 3

I knew the Gur as travelling folk with a reputation for fortune telling, but you only start to know a people when you sit down and share a tale. At the side of a road, over a pot of bubbling stew, they told me they were the 'Children of Selûne', and claim a history stretching back to ancient Rashemen itself.

Gur legend tells of two young Wychlaran (witches!) who refused to follow the instruction of their elders. In frustration, the older witches turned the young maidens into songbirds and locked them in a golden cage, saying if they refused to learn, at least they could make music. But the Wychlaran escaped and flew across Faerûn. Eventually, exhausted, they landed in the garden of a cleric, who blessed them in the name of Selûne, breaking the curse and transforming them back into human form. Since then, they have been Selûne's children.

All Gur peoples trace their line back to these young maidens - indeed, some Gur matriarchs even take 'maiden' as a title. Of course, as the beloved of Selûne they no longer practice the Wychlaran's witchcraft, but some say it remains in the blood - that it lets them catch glimpses of the future.

It was a magnificent tale (and some excellent stew), but was any of it true? I shall investigate when I reach Rashemen. Perhaps they tell a different story.

The Approachable East, Vol. 4

What a land is Cormyr! Certainly, the geography is dramatic - edged by mountains and sea, filled with forests and swamps - but why dwell on these when the great walls of Suzail loom ahead?

One sees the city's walls as one approaches, but there is no understanding them from a distance. It's only as one gets close, and they loom higher, and higher, and higher, that one appreciates the majesty of Suzail. I passed through gates the size of castles to enter this magnificent city. The streets are patrolled by elite armoured knights known as Purple Dragons and frequented by nobles in the most elegant fashions.

Its port is filled with ships from across the Sea of Fallen Stars, carrying goods from lands I only knew from legends. The docks overflow with fruit, spices, silks and animal pelts. You will not see a finer market, if you have the golden lions to spend.

Also, the harming of cats is strictly forbidden. A thoroughly civilised land.

The Approachable East, Vol. 5

Let it be known that Sembia should be avoided at all costs. It is clearly home to an industrious sort of fellow - the sort who is quick to dismiss the country's history as a Netherese vassal state, but will steal your notes from the Dalelands and sell you to pirates all the same.

Thankfully, these pirates were set upon by another group of buccaneers, who were more than happy to take a scribe on board. I was excited to document the voyage, as we are headed to Thesk: the Gateway to the East, where the road leads straight to Rashemen. Alas, I have spent almost all my time forging ship manifests.

The Approachable East, Vol. 6

I must say, for a place with so many orcs and goblins, Thesk is a remarkably pleasant land. A true melting pot, where all are accepted (and quite a lot seems to be permitted).

Alas, the crew I sailed here with were imprisoned by the harbourmaster, but I was soon on the road known as the Golden Way. And it lives up to its name.

The wealth of a continent marches along this road. Furs from Neverwinter and iron from Nashkel flow in one direction, while silks and jewels flow the other. I have heard so many stories of the world. The Golden Way passes through Rashemen, through the wastes of the Hordelands, and on to the continent of Kara-Tur, a land of empires, dragons, and beasts I've never dreamt of. I am so close to Rashemen, but what was once my dream now sounds so... mundane.

Last night I made camp and was joined by a charming fellow. I told him my dream of seeing Rashemen and he laughed. He claims that Rashemen is nothing compared to Thay and invited me to visit the court of the zulkirs. It seemed rude to turn down such an illustrious invitation, so I will see what this Thay has to offer.

Then Rashemen. And beyond!

The Approachable East, Vol. 7

Thay is beautiful.

Its people are warm. Its people are kind. I am welcome here.

Rashemen means nothing to me now. Kara-Tur means nothing. My travels are done.

Come, my friends. I implore you.

Come to Thay. Thay is beautiful.

-Rian Forbeck