Once upon a time, the kings of Phalorm kept the roads of the Sword Coast clear and safe. But those times are long gone, and the wilds have reclaimed the steppes and hills between the Neverwinter High Road and Triboar.
Now, goblin and orc raiders assault wagons with impunity, and wild creatures stalk the night for unwary travelers.
\chapter{Conyberry and Agatha's Lair}
The forest grows dark and still as the trail descends deeper into the woods. Heavy vines and thick layers of moss drape the branches as the air grows colder.
You come to a wall woven together from the branches of adjacent trees. An arched doorway leads down into a gentle depression in the forest floor, covered by moss-infested old oaks, to form an almost completely enclosed space.
\textbf{[Enter?]}
There are some signs of habitation strewn around the space: a rusting chest, a decaying chair, a table; all of elven craft.
The air grows colder still. The chill reaches into your very soul and squeezes your heart. An ear-splitting whisper pierces the air, ``who comes seeking death in my domain?'' Mists coalesce in the middle of the hollow to form the shape of a female elf, her hair and robes waving in a nonexistent breeze.
\textbf{[Successful DC 15 Charisma (Persuasion) or comb]}
As you crest a low ridge you spot the ruins of a small fortress on a nearby hilltop.
\textbf{\textsf{[Approach -- Spot side path?]}}
A narrow footpath leads up to the crumbling walls.
\textbf{\textsf{[Approach?]}}
When you approach, you are first met by a deathly smell, which intensifies as you come closer.
Surrounded by decrepit fortifications is a small courtyard, in the middle of which stands an old, but still working, well. Not far from it, like a watermelon in a pile of coal, someone erected a colorful tent.
Before you are done taking it all in, a rot of zombies comes shuffling out of the tower.
\textbf{\textsf{[Hamun Kost]}}
A stout, red-robed figure throws aside the tent flaps and comes storming out.
``What is the meaning of this?'' it enquires in a firm tone.
Zombies come shambling to a halt and start aimlessly milling in the courtyard. The man standing in front of the tent has a shaved head, a tattoo on his forehead, and an expectant look.
Over a ridge, you spot faint tendrils of smoke rising above a prominent stony crag towering over the landscape. As you crest the ridge, a faint, but distinct smell reaches you: orcs.
A single orc is guarding the entrance to a cave just below the peak. The boredom of guarding a cave in the middle of nowhere seems to gave gotten to him, and he appears to be busy cleaning his nails.
\textbf{[Failure]}
An orc guard spots you as you rise above the ridge and sounds the alarm. A moment later, a whole clump of orcs comes pouring out of the cave in a rage, followed by one very angry ogre.
From a distance, the skyline of Cragmaw Castle betrays its history. Once the seat of a wizard-noble of Phalorm, the castle is actually seven towers, huddled together against the surrounding wilderness. The towers have long since collapsed, leaving only tooth-like ruins, snarling at the sky.
