A bustling mercantile town


Triboar’s name is thought to come from a traveler’s tale of slaying three boars here in the same day, over four hundred winters ago. The town is built on flat, fertile land, with a few natural rises here and there. Nearly half of Triboar’s population lives outside of the town proper, on sprawling ranches and neighboring farmsteads, most of which lie to the north or east.

Triboar is a market for horses raised by nearby ranches and imported from other regions. Blacksmiths, harness-makers, and wagon-works also flourish in the town. In addition, a number of guides operate out of Triboar. They take merchants and other travelers all over the Sword Coast, typically for stiff fees.


The current protector of Triboar is a good-natured ex-adventurer named Darathra Shendrel. Darathra enacts and modifies local laws (known as “the Lord’s Decree”), which are then enforced by the Twelve—a squadron of a dozen mounted patrol groups drawn from the rank-and-file of the militia.


Places of Interest

C. Cottage: A plain stone cottage, home to a local family.

F. Farm: This plot of land contains a modest stone farmhouse with a tilled garden or pasture. A large, extended family lives in the farmhouse and works on the land.

T1. Market Square and Town: The center of Triboar, where the Long Road meets the Evermoor Way, is a huge open space used as a market by local farmers and visiting peddlers. Dominating the space is the two-story Tower of the Lord Protector, a simple stone keep that leans decidedly to the east. Hanging above the entrance is the dusty banner of the lord protector, which depicts three black boars running toward the head of the banner on a blood-red field.

T2. North Caravan Campground: Caravans passing through Triboar use this fenced-in field as a place to park their wagons and contain their oxen for free. There’s also plenty of room to pitch tents and build campfires. Fresh water can be drawn from a 30-foot-deep stone well in the southeast corner of the yard. An iron sculpture dominates the center of the field, looking like a weird giant hand sticking out of the ground. Locals call this sculpture “the Vonindod” for unknown reasons. A cottage stands in the east corner of the lot, inhabited by Darz Helgar. Darz is paid by the lord protector to keep the two campgrounds clean by removing garbage and burying excrement.

T3. West Caravan Campground: Another fenced-in field for caravans. Another 30-foot-deep stone well sits in the middle of the yard.

T4. Happy Horse Ranch: The Kernveller family raises, trains, sells, and stables horses here. Three large buildings stand on their property: a two-story log house with a detached outhouse (the family estate); a stone storehouse full of used saddles, bridles, and reins; and stone stables connected to a fenced-in riding yard and grazing field. Janele Karnveller is the family matriarch, a feisty middle-aged widow who enjoys the company of horses more than people. She has three adult sons named Aldo, Hingo, and Rasko, all of whom are members of the town militia.

T5. Wainwright’s Wagons: A longtime fixture in Triboar, Wainwright’s Wagons has its own horse-driven sawmill and large buildings for lumber storage. The establishment originally catered to the wealthy elite by crafting the finest, most expensive wagons in the Dessarin Valley. The current owner, Tosker Wainwright, is more interested in profit than quality. Lacking the carpentry skills of his ancestors, he relies on underpaid apprentices to assemble wagons that are little better than ordinary, though they cost five times as much. Everyone who lives in Triboar knows that the Wainwright brand name is the only thing keeping the establishment in business.

T6. The Lion’s Share: This building was recently purchased and refurbished by the Lionshield Coster, a merchant company based out of the city of Yartar. Above the store’s entrance hangs a polished shield emblazoned with the head of a stylized golden lion on a blue background. Lionshields are not well liked in Triboar, since Triboar and Yartar are bitter rivals, and few locals spend their money in this place. The store caters mostly to caravans and out-of-towners, selling provisions and animal fodder up front, and adventuring gear, armor, and weapons in back. Rooms on the second floor contain accommodations for the store’s proprietors, Alaestra Ulgar and Narth Tezrin.

T7. Ransor’s Open Road: This establishment once sold feed and caravan supplies, as well as the services of caravan guards. Its owner passed away many years ago, and the business has been closed ever since. The yard is a riot of weeds, and the buildings have become havens for rats and other vermin. Locals have removed most of the wooden shingles from the rooftops, using them to replace the old shingles on their own roofs.

T8. The Cart and Coin: This establishment sells and swaps horses and draft animals, and also deals feed, horseshoes, and gear. The owners are a halfling married couple named Arn and Syreen Widdens. They have four young children and employ half a dozen workers of various races to feed and exercise the animals, clean the stables, and replace horseshoes.

T9. The Triboar Travelers: Merchant sponsors can hire the personnel and the vehicles of the Triboar Travelers to make caravan runs to Waterdeep and to Everlund. The company hires mercenaries and adventurers to serve as guards. Urlam Sockspool, a shrewd, immaculately dressed businessman, runs the caravan company. Over the eye he lost in combat several years ago, Urlam wears a red eye patch emblazoned with the black symbol of the Zhentarim. Ulran is proud of his association with the Black Network, serving them as an occasional recruiter.

T10. Northshield House: This fine local inn is stately, clean, and quiet. The proprietor, Urgala Meltimer, is a retired adventurer who bought the inn from the Phorndyl family over ten years ago. She much prefers retirement and warns armed guests to keep their blades sheathed during their stay. Urgala keeps three mastiffs that sleep in the ground floor common room, and she employs six loyal, well-paid staff members. Guests sleep in private rooms on the upper floor.

T11. Othovir’s Harness Shop: A skilled harness-maker named Othovir lives here, making the finest elk-skin harnesses in the Dessarin Valley. He hunts the elk, keeps their skins, and sells the rest to the Lionshield Coster. His harnesses have elaborate designs pressed into the leather, and his work is popular among Waterdhavian nobles who enjoy horseback riding. Although he hails from a prominent Waterdeep family (the Margasters), Othovir never speaks of his past or his family, and has no interest in describing how he ended up a shop owner in Triboar.

T12. The Talking Troll: The Troll is what Waterdhavian’s would call a dive—a dim, smell, low-beamed place crammed with mismatched, battered old furniture and drunks. Part of the roof caught fire two summers ago and has yet to be repaired. The holes in the roof have allowed birds to nest among the beams, and the floor and tables are speckled with bird droppings. The Troll’s one redeeming feature is its large, well-stocked cellar. The owner and proprietor of the Troll is a struggling actor named Kaelen Sarssir. He “inherited” the tavern after the previous owner fled in the wake of a scandal and has done the minimum amount of work necessary to keep it operational. Kaelen has dreams of turning the Troll into a theater, but he lacks the funds and the ambition to do so. He shares his dream with new patrons, hoping one or more of them might donate to or otherwise sponsor the endeavor.

T13. The Frost-Touched Frog: This old inn is boarded up and empty. Vandals have carved lewd phrases into the planks covering the doors and windows, and tall weeds have the building surrounded.

T14. Six Windows: This chilly, creaking decrepit wooden rooming house is run by Tolmara Hysstryn, a deranged middle-aged woman. Visitors unable to secure rooms at Everwyvern House or Northshield House might be forced to bunk here, but they rarely stay longer than a night because they quickly discover that Tolmara isn’t shy about spying on them through keyholes and listening at doors while chuckling to herself.

T15. Boar’s Rest: Build on a ridge that overlooks the rest of town, Boar’s Rest is the stone mansion of a rich, retired adventurer named Hyuth Kolstaag. Ever since Kolstaag had the place built and moved in five years ago, his unbridled arrogance and sense of self-importance have won him no friends in Triboar. Moreover, he has been targeted by so many enemies and rivals that other townsfolk consider him a magnet for disaster. He lives surrounded by trophies of his past adventures, and rarely emerges from his estate. He never condescends to protect the town or use his wealth to aid the less fortunate.

T16. The Triboar Arms: The Triboar Arms has burned to the ground twice and been rebuilt twice. Its owner and proprietor is Nemyth, a savvy businessman with a wicked smile. He likes to lean against the taproom doorway, drying and polishing a mug while nodding and smiling at passersby. His prices are reasonable and his staff cordial. This tavern is a popular hangout for rangers and scouts, most of whom sell their services as wilderness guides.

T17. Uldinath’s Arms: This hilltop smithy across the road from Foehammer’s Forge is run by Harriet Uldinath, the great-granddaughter of the establishment’s founder. Harriet has known Ghelryn Foehammer since she was a child, and the two are friendly rivals. Harriet sells fine weapons stamped with the Uldinath family glyph, which generally increases their value by 25 percent.

T18. Foehammer’s Forge: A purveyor of fine weapons, armor, and other metalworks. Ghelryn Foehammer is getting a bit long in the tooth for the daily grind of metalsmithing, so he’s looking for a skilled apprentice, but no one has met his approval thus far. A year ago, Ghelryn made splendid suits of ceremonial armor for King Morinn and Queen Tithmel of Citadel Felbarr, and the royals were so impressed that they bestowed upon Ghelryn the honorary title of Royal Armorer. For that and other reasons, the Foehammer name is synonymous with top-quality goods throughout the Dessarin Valley, and Ghelryn intends to keep it that way.

T19. Merivold Pony Park: North of the Evermoor Way, a quaint cottage stands near a brightly painted barn topped with a pony-shaped weather vane. A white picket fence encloses a small field behind the barn. Set among flowers on the front lawn is a sign that reads “Merivold Pony Park.” Two spinster-sisters named Janna and Leera Merivold raise and train ponies here, including riding ponies for halflings. At any given time, the Merivolds have about half a dozen ponies for sale.

T20. Everwyvern House: This expensive inn caters to Waterdhavian nobility and other well-to-do folk who wouldn’t be caught dead in a more modest establishment. The property is situated behind the Pleasing Platter on a beautifully landscaped patch of land with private stables, private gardens, and a meandering path through a small orchard. The inn itself is a beautiful stone building with lamps hanging from its eaves and a turret in one corner. The snobbery of Everwyvern House is equaled by its elegant foppery. The atmosphere in the place is like a parody of the grandest Waterdhavian noble parties. Folk come her to be awed by it, to be amused by it, or to feel at home in it. Minstrels player quiet background music among floating plants and many-hued driftglobes, while startlingly gowned women and dashingly sashed and ruffled men chat, stroll, dance, and sneer at each other. The Everwyvern’s condescending peacock of a proprietor, Draven Millovyr, tried and failed to gain membership in the Arcane Brotherhood. When that career path didn’t pan out, he used his inherited wealth to buy Everwyvern House. Draven doesn’t allow “nobodies” to stay at his inn, and he employs six bouncers to throw out the trash. Adventurers of noble blood are welcome; others are not.

T21. The Pleasing Platter: This fine restaurant is next door to the grandiose Everwyvern House, and it has adopted similar pretensions. Its tables are far apart. Each is screened from the others by strategically placed plants, statues, or pillars. Minstrels play soft and soothing music in the background. Service is fast, polite, and deft, with special requests honored swiftly and obligingly to meet a guest’s culinary preferences. House specialties include smoked quail, rothé steak cooked in wine and nuts, and grilled silvertail fish. Prices are comparable to those at Everwyvern House, and free flasks of sweet water are served with dinner. The owners are Heltzer and Pentavasta Duncask, a cheerful old couple.

T22. Graveyard: Perched atop a ridge at the south end of town is an old cemetery where many of Triboar’s first settlers are buried under weatherworn headstones. The oldest graves are located on a plot of land enclosed by an old, unpainted picket fence.

T23. Apothecary: Across the road from Northshield House is the town apothecary, a slouched wooden cottage with ivy-covered walls. Parked outside the apothecary’s front door is a ramshackle wheelbarrow, hanging above which is a wooden sign shaped like a potion bottle. Tarmock Felaskur sells herbal medicines and salves of questionable efficacy. In addition, he sells “sweet water” for 1 gp per flask. The sweet, naturally carbonated water bubbles up from a tiny spring in the shed behind Tarmock’s cottage. Tarmock makes most of his money selling the water to the proprietors of the Pleasant Platter.

T24. Gwaeron’s Slumber: Triboar is said to be the resting place of a god named Gwaeron Windstrom, the Tracker Who Never Goes Astray. He’s said to sleep in this stand of trees just west of town. Rangers who venerate Mielikki often visit this stand of trees to pray. It’s said that worshipers of Mielikki who sleep in this wood receive hints in their dreams of what the goddess wants them to do. To avoid angering Gwaeron, laws in Triboar forbid cutting any trees or hunting in these woods. The local militia patrols the grove to prevent strangers from camping there, but less intelligent monsters have never been seen in Gwaeron’s Slumber. Many of the trees here are trapped in a perpetual state of autumn, with dazzling leaves of yellow, orange, and red.

T25. Marshalling Field: An old, partially ruined wooden fence encloses a large, muddy field south of town. In years past, armies gathered and camped here before marching off to war. The field has seen little use in recent years.



Wrath of Hekaton Randy Randy