Region Silver Marches
Size Village
Power Center Nonstandard
Alignment Good
Population 952 (Mixed)
humans 68%
half-elves 25%
dwarves 7%
Authority Figures Speaker Geth Stonar
Druid Amra Clearwater
Religions Silvanus, Malar

Quaervarr (KWAIR-var) is a rustic little community hidden in the southern eaves of the Moonwood. Most of its visitors are traders, hunters, or travelers on their way to the Herald's Holdfast. It lies some thirty miles north of Silverymoon, at the center of a network of crisscrossing logging roads and game trails. The town itself is unimpressive, a collection of wood-frame buildings sheltered behind a high wooden palisade. There is but one gate, constructed from huge oak beams reinforced with iron bands.

Brief History

The town's first settlers arrived less than two centuries ago to log the thick stands of shadowtops that grow in the vicinity. Gradually the place attracted more loggers, and a small number of woodworkers, hunters, timber merchants, and other folk, until it became the modest town it is today. The town government consists of a Speaker, elected once each year from among the local populace, but in times of danger the town turns to the local druids for guidance, chief among them the druid Amra Clearwater. Quaervarr had no official symbol and didn't see the need for one until it joined the Silver Marches confederation. At that time it decided to adopt the mark of its most notable landmark, the Whistling Stag inn. Now the Quaervarr pennant, a stag rampant on a green field, flies proudly from the town walls.

This isolated logging town has enjoyed a reputation as a peaceful backwater in times past. In recent months evil creatures that claim ownership of the Moonwood have come to threaten the community. Quaervarr has never been threatened by the goblinoids that plague the rest of the region, but the Moonwood holds other dangers, and one of those threatens the community now. Visitors find the militia stationed at the town's only gate to be suspicious. They grill all new arrivals, demanding to know names, points of origin, and intentions before admitting anyone. Strangers who cannot give a good account of themselves are denied entry until an authority figure can question them. Recent raids by the Malar-worshipers of Claw Hollow have roused the town, and every guard on duty carries ten silver-headed bolts for his or her crossbow and a half-spear with a silver head.

Jarthon of the Moonwood was once a half-elf who used to hunt lycanthropes to protect the people of Silverymoon. After he became infected with lycanthropy, he used his hunting skills to become the leader of a tribe of People of the Black Blood. Since then Jarthon has become a thorn in the side of the people of the Silver Marches. In Kythorn of this year, he and his tribe abducted a Quaervarr woodcutter and used him as the prey in one of their infamous Wild Hunts. A search party found his body, and pinned to the torn remains of his shirt was a note signed by Jarthon insisting that the town cease its attempts to expand into "the territory of the People." In the last month, three more citizens have been attacked and brutally slain, their bodies left as warnings. Quaervarr's citizens have scrambled to beef up their defenses, and have sent an appeal for aid to the Silver Marches signatories. Tensions within the town rise with every new murder, and its citizens are becoming increasingly paranoid of strangers—any newcomer could be a spy for Jarthon, or even the villain himself.


Adventurers are welcome in Quaervarr, provided that they adhere to two important local laws. First, adventurers are not allowed to compete with the Whistling Stag for hunting party business; the inn has the town's exclusive charter to provide guides to those wishing to use the town as a base for game hunting. Second, the town prohibits the public assembly of more than four well-armed persons at one time without the sanction of the Speaker. The town has experienced too often what happens when a party of well-equipped adventurers imbibes a little too much of the Stag's fine spirits and then wanders the streets, and it would prefer to avoid such incidents if at all possible.

Quaervarr is currently caught up in a near panic because of the threat poised by the lycanthropes dwelling in the Moonwood. The inhabitants are distrustful of strangers at the moment, because they fear that any unknown face could be a spy or agent of the Black Blood. However, an adventuring party that convinces the town government of its good intentions stands an excellent chance of receiving a commission to help protect the town from the werebeasts that lurk in the dense forest.

Important Sites

Adventurers often launch expeditions into the Moonwood from Quaervarr. There are few sites of notes in the town.

The Oak House

Located a short distance from the town in a stand of ancient, never-felled trees lies the Oak House, a temple sacred to Silvanus. The structure is an open-sided pavilion or lodge made from rough-hewn trunks that fell of their own accord, never touched by axe or fire. Green fig boughs woven tightly together between the trunks serve to keep out the rain. Nested in and among the forest surrounding the lodge stand several small dwellings, home to the clergy of Silvanus who tend the site.

The Oak House is led by Amra Clearwater. She and her followers watch over the woodcutters and loggers of Quaervarr, advising them in choosing which trees are to be taken and when. The loggers of the town hold a deep respect (and not a little fear) of the Oakfather and listen attentively to the druids' advice to avoid angering the deity of the forest.

In addition to Amra herself, four lesser druids and two rangers devoted to Silvanus watch over the Oak House. They travel widely through the forest and are often away from the temple.

The Whistling Stag

Few adventurers can pass up a visit to the town's best known and most-beloved landmark, the Whistling Stag. This inn and hunting lodge has been serving patrons for time out of mind, and it's generally acknowledged as one of the finest establishments in the Silver Marches. The rooms are filled with stag heads, bear skin rugs, peryton antlers, and similar trophies, and a magnificent tapestry depicting a hunt for a dire boar graces the main dining hail.

Avid hunters come from all over the North to avail themselves of the expert services of Huntmaster Quickleaf, the inn's house guide. For a fee of 10 gp per day, Saernnus takes hunting parties out into the wilderness to hunt for predators such as dire bears, dire wolves, owlbears, perytons, and sometimes even more dangerous beasts. For 25 gp per day, Saernnus will act as a guide for nonhunters who wish to explore or journey through the Moonwood, with which he is intimately familiar.

The Stag is named for a local legend. Old-timers who gather around the massive stone hearth in the inn's common room never miss a chance to regale newcomers with the story of how a certain stag eluded the town's best hunters during a day-long quest. The next morning, so the story goes, the stag sauntered through the middle of town, whistling casually and casting amused looks at the gaping hunters who lined the streets to watch him pass by. Currently, a heated debate rages between three of the eldest tale-spinners about whether or not the stag winked at a hunter as he walked through town. The issue is not likely to be settled any time soon.

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