Back on the mainland, the city of Brovendar is a sight to behold. It is the bastion of human civilization, the greatest city in the west. Towers soar into the sky. Academies and temples abound. There is wealth and resources aplenty for those that live there. It has survived wars and plagues. It is the hub of civilization, filled with every race of good.
By stark contrast, New Brovendar is little more than an outpost. There are few structures built and all are of wood. There is but one “road” and it is identified merely by the wagon ruts that dig into it. There is no great wall protecting it, in fact, the wooden palisade stands unfinished. And of the people here, nearly all are human and most come from the lower classes. The air is heavy here. Unlike Brovendar with the sun shines and the sea air blows lazily over the city, New Brovendar is overshadowed by the strange mist of the Shrouded Isle. It is wet and damp and staying dry is difficult, even when indoors.
When the settlers first arrived, there was great hope and excitement. This was the place for a new beginning, a new opportunity, ripe for the picking. At first, most were concerned with safety for what new horrors could this land hold? But day after day went by, without the slightest danger appearing. The wall was forgotten and thoughts were turned to exploration. Many went north to the hills, searching for gold or silver. All that has been found so far though is iron. A mining camp was started and while the ore is constant, there isn’t much of it. Nearly all of it is going right back into the town for use. Lands to the west initially looked good for farming, but the mist blocks out the sun and the crops are fair at best. Where there were once dreams of bounty, now there are hopes of survival.
The patrons have all nearly gone as well seeing very little gain for their investments. Only one remains, Baron Tordin Blackwall. He and his men provide the law in the town. He spends most of his days looking over reports, trying to find materials that he needs, and corresponding with potential patrons back east. It is not an easy task. The ships that arrive are fewer each time and farther apart. Interest in the town from the mainland has all but faded.
There is a pall over this town. Some have even begun to whisper that is it a cursed place, one not meant for man to be. There certainly has been no sign of civilization here. The Shrouded Isle appeared when Sehanine’s Eye occurred in the night sky a few months ago. Those that have come here seeking fortune but found only ruin certainly feel tricked by the Goddess.
Regardless, if the fortunes do not change for New Brovendar, it will certainly fail.