Good Mead
ood Mead was one of the smaller of the Ten Towns of Icewind Dale. It sat on the northwestern shore of Redwaters, south of the Eastway trade road.
Visitors to Good Mead rarely have a difficult time deciding where in town to go first. The short row of squat dwellings that line the trail along the lake’s western edge is overshadowed by the two-story structure of the mead hall, its eaves carved and painted to resemble the wyverns that are said to roost in Kelvin’s Cairn.
Geography
Two roads extended out from Good Mead, one that went southwest to Dougan's Hole and another one northeast to Easthaven.Trade
While Good Mead's economy was originally based on the fishing of knucklehead trout from nearby Redwaters lake, by the mid—14th century DR they received little profit from their catches. As a whole, the town focused on brewing their famous mead,[2][5] that they sold in the merchant town of Bryn Shander.History
Like most of Ten-Towns, Good Mead originally depended on knucklehead trout for its livelihood, selling smoked fish, raw ivory, and scrimshaw in the market at Bryn Shander. In fact, the southern lake got its name when the competition for fishing waters between Good Mead and Dougan’s Hole led to a battle between several ships that resulted in the deaths of fishers from both towns, staining the waters with blood. In the decades following, Good Mead’s trade in its justly famous brew began to outstrip the proceeds from its fishing hauls to the point where most of the town’s fishers took up mead brewing instead. A building adjoining the mead hall, recently erected to provide storage for the increasing volume of casks, is roofed with the town’s retired fishing vessels, and now only a handful of boats sail out each day from Good Mead to catch fresh fish for the stewpots.
Notable Locations
- Mead Hall - This large building, in the center of town, was the heart of its brewing-based economy.
- Shrine to Tempus - This worn-down and aged shrine was run by the young battleguard, Brother Sharamod during the mid—14th century, who hoped to expand it to a proper temple. Unlike the mead hall, which is well cared for, the shrine’s painted icons of the god of war are chipped and faded, and its hall—cramped by the standards of most southerners, though twice the size of any of the town’s dwellings—stands empty most days. The shrine was built over a century ago, when the town’s rivalry with Dougan’s Hole still raged, and for a time thereafter nearly all the inhabitants of Good Mead paid homage to the battle lord. Since their retreat from the waters, the shrine’s relevance has dwindled to the point where only a few pious residents visit it regularly, and then only to observe the war god’s holy days.
“Cut south off the Eastway after the trees thin out, an’ keep walking ’til ye hear the buzzin’ o’ bees. That’ll be Good Mead. If ye fall in the lake, you’ve gone too far.”
Knucklehead Trout Scrimshaw, Mead
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