The Nentir Vale is a northern land, but it sees relatively little snow — winters are windy and bitterly cold. The Nentir River is too big to freeze except for a few weeks in the coldest part of the year. Summers are cool and mild. The vale is mostly empty, with a handful of living villages and towns scattered over this wide area. Abandoned farmsteads, ruined manors, and broken keeps litter the countryside. Bandits, wild animals, and monsters roam freely throughout the vale, threatening anyone who fares more than few miles away from one of the surviving settlements. Travel along the roads or river is usually safe — usually. But every now and then, travelers come to bad ends between towns. Recently, however, many outposts, villages and caravans have fallen to increased raids by a race of beastmen, who worship a mysterious presence known only as The Master.
This land has played little part in the constant warring and political strife of the southlands, but recently it has fallen under the scrutiny of a power simply known as the Empire.