Farshore Fields

Tucked between the western ocean and the rising tops of Whisper Peaks, the Farshore Fields are a narrow coastal region that surprises most who reach them. Despite their remote location and reputation, the fields are lush, fertile, and gently rolling, threaded with freshwater streams and blanketed in rich grasses and low wildflowers.   If not for the isolation—and the brutal storms that lash the coast each season—this land might have been heavily settled long ago. As it stands, only a few true settlement endures. Its people are hardy and insular, making their livelihood through fishing, small-scale farming.   The soil here is surprisingly rich, fed by mountain runoff and maritime weather. Crops grow easily, and grazing animals thrive in the open pasturelands inland from the bluffs. But storms from the western sea arrive without warning, howling in from beyond the horizon with terrifying speed and force. Locals build low and thick, their homes sunken and shingled with stone-heavy roofs. Every child learns to read the sky.   Still, there is something deeply peaceful about the Farshore Fields. Without the pressures of politics, conflict, or expansion, life here moves to the rhythm of tide and weather. Settlements might be alone, but it is not struggling. The land gives what it can, and the people, in return, ask only for time and calm skies.   Many travelers who brave the journey speak of it with reverence—not as a place of hardship, but one of quiet contentment, waiting out of reach.