Forgotten Realms

Come in from the cold and mind the door — the wind off the Sword Coast has teeth. Faerûn is a lived-in world, the best-charted of the many lands that share the sky of Toril: a continent of walled cities and haunted wilds where the gods are near enough to answer, magic is a craft with rules and a cost, and every tavern hearth throws light on someone with a blade, a grudge, or a tale worth the telling. Beneath it all lies the Underdark, that black underland where the drow raise their spider-city of Menzoberranzan; above, the merchant towers of Waterdeep, the frost of Icewind Dale, the ruin-strewn North. This is the sword-and-sorcery world of Dungeons & Dragons rendered into prose — grand, generous, and endlessly walkable. It is a world of many hands, and the shelf shows it: some five hundred novels across eighty-odd cycles, uneven as any long telling but rich past counting. R. A. Salvatore's dark-elf ranger Drizzt Do'Urden anchors the whole — the Icewind Dale and Dark Elf trilogies and the long saga that follows. Ed Greenwood, who first dreamed the Realms, chronicles the Old Mage in the Elminster books. Around them turn the god-walking Avatar cycle and its Time of Troubles, the six-author War of the Spider Queen, Salvatore's Cleric Quintet, and Elaine Cunningham's elf-and-drow songs; Troy Denning and a company of others fill the marches between. What holds it together is warmth — the register of a bard who wants you fed and seated before the tale turns. Newcomers should follow Drizzt first: read Homeland and the Dark Elf trilogy for his beginning, or The Crystal Shard as first readers met him. Either door opens the Realms; the other eighty cycles wait past it.