Overview
Torven’s Ford lies roughly 9–10 miles south-southeast of Tharrick’s Hollow, astride a broad, stony crossing of the Zumker River. The land rises gently to the north into grassy hills and vineyards, while the river’s bends to the northwest and southeast dissolve into reed-thick marshland favored by waterfowl and insects alike.
Originally a Flan river settlement, Torven’s Ford has grown into a supporting community of High Hadleigh, supplying smoked meats, leather goods, river services, and hill wines. Its people are a tense blend of old Flan tradition and newer Pelor-leaning settlers, with neither fully eclipsing the other.
Population is modest—about 350 souls—and the town remains unwalled, relying on terrain, river knowledge, and discretion rather than arms. Travelers find Torven’s Ford welcoming enough, but never careless.
Places to Go
The Ford of Torven
The town’s namesake crossing: shallow, stone-lined, and reliable most of the year. In spring thaws it becomes dangerous, forcing caravans to wait or hire local guides. Small offerings to the river are common here at dusk.
Old Quarter
The original Flan settlement, clustered near the river bend. Low timber buildings, reed roofs, and stone footpaths dominate. Trades here include the herbalist, tannery, leatherworking sheds, mill, and a gem-smith who polishes stones and sands carried down from the eroded northern hills. Superstitions persist—charms above doors, quiet river rites, and an unspoken awareness of what should not be disturbed.
Newward
Uphill and road-facing, built by settlers and families tied to High Hadleigh. Straighter streets, cleaner timber, tiled roofs. Most Pelor worshippers reside here, along with merchants and river contractors. Newward is practical, optimistic, and slightly dismissive of Old Quarter caution.
Smokehouses & Drying Yards
Scattered along the leeward riverbanks and hillsides. Waterfowl, swine, and goat are smoked here, their scents often hanging over the town. These yards are communal and closely watched.
Hill Vineyards
Dryer north-facing slopes support hardy grape vines. The wines are sharp and earthy; much of the yield becomes raisins or vinegar for caravan trade.
River Docks & Guard Hall
A modest dock and hiring shed where travelers can secure river pilots or “guards.” Officially mundane. Unofficially something else entirely.
Shrine of Pelor
Located on the Newward edge, overlooking fields and vineyards. Bright, simple, and open. Services emphasize labor, honesty, and shared meals.
Shrine of Beory
Near the ford itself, partially shaded by river willows. Older, quieter, and still widely respected—even by Pelorites during planting and harvest seasons.
Shrine of Obad-Hai
At the marsh fringe, half reclaimed by reeds and brush. Maintained irregularly, but never abandoned.
People to See
Hedra Varn, Flan Herbalist
An aging woman of the Old Quarter who knows the marsh and riverbanks intimately. Respected, cautious, and deeply observant. She notices changes in land and people alike.
Bren Torvessen, Miller of the Ford
Broad-shouldered and practical, Bren controls more information than grain. He hears everything that crosses the ford and says very little without reason.
Kethan Reedcloak, River Captain
Publicly a river guard and pilot for hire. Calm, watchful, and competent. Privately tied to a Cern Hrag mission monitoring river traffic and threats moving through the Marches.
Sister Elain of the Dawn, Pelorite Lay-Priest
Young, earnest, and well-intentioned. She believes Torven’s Ford can be a model of renewal and cooperation. The Old Quarter is less convinced.
Orsik Flintwater, Dwarven Gem-Smith
One of the few dwarves in town. Uses fine, pale sands deposited by the Zumker to polish small stones and gems. Quietly protective of the riverbanks where he gathers his materials.
Quiet Truths
- What outsiders believe to be a thieves’ guild or mercenary river outfit is in fact a covert Cern Hrag operation, using escort work as cover.
- The shrines are deliberately placed apart to avoid open conflict.
- The Old Quarter remembers things the Newward has never been told—and may never need to be.