% \cleardoubleevenpage

\clearpart{Phandalin}

\chapter{Introduction}

After days on the road, the woods open up, and you catch your first glimpse of the frontier town of Phandalin. You pass through what seems to be the ruins of a city gate in a likewise ruined city wall. Ivy-covered ruins and empty foundations continue for some time before you arrive at the first buildings.

The town consists mostly of hastily-put-up shacks, built on top of old foundations. Toward the center of the town, you see a few stone buildings that seem to have survived the gnawing of time.

Conveniently, the first house you pass has a crude sign saying ``Barthen's Supplies.''

\textbf{[Stop at Barthen's supplies?]}

The road widens into a muddy square that borders on the town green. There are people going about their business and children playing on the grass. The townsfolk don't seem unfriendly, mainly interested in the newcomers. Some of them do seem slightly apprehensive, getting out of your way just a bit too enthusiastically, like they are not sure whether you are about to be struck by a bolt of lightning.

From the main square, you can see the ruins of an old manor house up on a hill, towering above the town.

\textbf{[With Sildar]}

``That must be the Stonehill Inn,'' Sildar Hallwinter says, looking around. ``I hear it is very quaint. Shall we secure our lodgings there?''

\chapter{Phandalin}

\section*{Barthen's Supplies}

A lean and balding man greets you from behind the counter, ``Welcome to Phandalin, adventurers!

``Oh, don't look surprised, when you've been minding a shop for as long as I have, you learn to spot the type from a mile away,'' he says with a smile, ``how can I help you?''

\textbf{[After a bit of chat.]}

The door opens to reveal a brick outhouse trying to make its way into the shop. The apparition resolves itself into a man, draped in a dirty red cloak, who seems to have a bag of knuckles somewhere in his ancestry. ``Rent day!'' a nastily cheerful voice announces from somewhere behind the lumpy menace. A vaguely handsome man, also wearing a red cloak, saunters forward and leans on the counter with a threatening grin. The larger man, having finished his job of being imposing, goes to stand, still as a statue, next to the door.

``You were just here two days ago, Zach, do try to remember,'' Barthen says calmly.

``It's Zachy\footnote{Full name: Zachtifer.}!'' the man flares up, looking deranged for just a moment, before turning to his colleague, ``Dor\footnote{Full name: Dorothy. His mother was optimistic and confused.}, do you remember coming here a couple of days ago?''

``Nope.'' rumbles the giant.

\textbf{[Adventurers trying to intervene]}

Barthen gives you a calming gesture without taking his eyes off Zach.

The old man reaches under his counter and places a small bag of coins in front of Zach, who picks it up and tosses it in his pocket. As he heads toward the door, he turns to you and says in a patronizing voice, ``you could learn a lot from our friend Barthen here,'' before sauntering out. Dor calmly follows him without saying another word.

``It's not a lot of money -- they have no idea how much I make -- but it still galls,'' Barthen says calmly. ``They usually hang out at the Sleeping Giant tap house,'' he adds, seemingly to no one in particular.

\section*{Stonehill Inn}

The outside of the inn is a patchwork of ancient stone and new construction. Some parts are still shored up with timbers, but on the whole is looks solid and cozy.

The noise of conversation dips for just a moment as you enter, but the denizens of an inn are not to be perturbed by new arrivals. Manning the bar is a wide and cheerful man with a white apron and a magnificent mustache. ``Welcome to Stonehill Inn, the cleanest beds and the finest food in all of Phandalin!'' he cheerfully announces.

``Are you saying my wife can't clean her sheets, Toblen?'' a voice from the crowd shouts to general amusement.

Toblen blushes for a moment, but quickly composes himself. ``Will you be wanting rooms?'' he asks.

\textbf{[Getting rooms]}

``By the way, watch out for those Redbrand ruffians. They make a sport of harassing newcomers,'' Toblen says as you depart.

\subsection*{Decide to sit down at a table}

Looking around the inn, you see a table of cheerful and tanned men, chatting about the day's work in the fields and the plans tomorrow. At another table sit rough and well-built, but pale, men in overalls, marking them as miners. Some of them are engaged in a game of dice. Next to the door that leads to the kitchen, a plump woman is talking quietly to a spry woman with a long ponytail.

\subsection*{Talk to farmers}

``You know Sister Garaele? From the Shrine of Luck there in the main square? She went away for a couple o' days, and they say she came back all beat up. Black and blue like you wouldn't believe!''

``Look at you, Narth, gossiping like an ol' milkmaid!'' the barmaid teases your new friend as she sets down your drinks before you.

``You know it's a good idea to be on adventurers' good side, Elsa!'' he responds, almost completely seriously, but gives you a sly wink.

\subsection*{Talk to miners}

A cheer goes up just as you approach the table. ``You're getting cocky, Lanar. You're bluffing so bad an orc could see it from a mile away!''

The table notices you approaching and a plainly dressed dwarf addresses you, ``You wanna throw some dice? Your type tends to have more money than sense!''

``Yeah, Lanar needs someone even worse than him to play against!'' someone from the crowd supplies.

``I've been skinning you lot for weeks! I'm just having a bad day!'' the dwarf shoots back.

\subsection*{Barmaid rumors}

``Ooh, you ought to talk to Daran. 'im with the orchard out on the edge of town. They say 'e used to be an adventurer like you. 'e ought to know if there's any adventurin' to be done 'round 'ere.''

\subsection*{Sit down at a table}

When you look up from your mug, you notice a pair of big eyes observing you over the edge of the table with interest. A child's voice, full of cunning, says, ``I know a secret.

``Carp found a secret tunnel, in the forest, and a man was there, and the man almost saw him, and carp had to hide, and he hided, and the man didn't saw him, and so he told me about the secret tunnel, but he didn't tell me where it was because he said I can't keep secrets.''

``Pip! Stop bothering the guests!'' a motherly voice shouts. Pip gives you one last look before running away.

\section*{Edermath Orchard}

Just beyond the town green stands a beautifully kept orchard. As you approach it, you notice a ladder under one of the trees. There is a cane leaning against the ladder. Movement above catches your attention, and you notice a white-haired elf peacefully trimming branches up above.

``Be right with you!'' he yells down, cutting off one last twig, then carefully making his way down between the branches. He picks up his cane and takes a good look at you. ``Oh. My. Gods! Aren't \textit{you} all just precious!'' he exclaims with a patronizing smile. ``How can this old warrior help you? Come along, let old Daran serve you some tea,'' he says, turning toward his house and motioning you to follow, ``and I might even get you something to drink.''

\section*{Lionshield Coster}

Hanging above the front door of this modest trading post is a sign shaped like a wooden shield with a blue lion painted on it. When you enter, a bell tinkles, and you hear, from the back room, a voice yell, ``I'll be out there in a minute!'' A minute or so of box stacking noises later, a sensibly-dressed young woman walks through the door to the back room and in a businesslike voice says, ``how may I help you?'' After taking her place behind the counter, she looks at you expectantly.

\section*{Phandalin Miner's Exchange}

From the outside, the miner's exchange is a square building built on what was probably the ruins of a tower and is noticeably taller than the other buildings in town. The wide doors open to reveal a cavernous hall with a row of mismatched desks across the middle forming a counter. The floor is covered in a fine layer of stone dust and a not insignificant amount of dirt. Lining the walls are pigeonholes filled with scrolls of paper. On the floor, there are several crates filled with rocks. In a corner stands a tall and solid-looking safe.

Your footsteps echo around the wide space as you approach the counter, where a tall woman in surprisingly clean miner's overalls gives you a measuring look before stating, ``you're not miners, are you.''

\section*{Alderleaf Farm}

At the end of the road, the embankments open up to reveal a farm that forces the world ``Idyllic'' to manifest itself in bright red copperplate writing in your mind. The farmhouse with flowers on every window is appropriately complimented by a chicken coop and an outhouse with a crescent moon carved into the door. The donkey, or perhaps a scruffy pony, is very probably on its smoke break, but will return momentarily. To tie a bow on the entire ensemble, a youthful halfling is sweeping the threshold and whistling tunelessly to herself.

``Welcome to Phandalin!'' she exclaims when she sees you approach, ``How can I help y'all?''.

\textbf{[Any sign adventurers want to talk]}

``Why don't all y'all sit yourself on the bench over there, and I'll go make some tea,'' she says, pointing at a bench under a grape vine that has been expertly trained to provide shade.

\textbf{[If looking for Cragmaw Castle or Wave Echo Cave]}

``Hmm... Y'all might want to talk to my friend Reidoth. He's a druid, and he knows every inch of land between Neverwinter and Triboar. I believe he left for Thundertree just yesterday. All y'all might be able to catch up to him there.''

\textbf{[Having tea]}

You notice an eye, peering around the corner of the chicken coop. The eye is fringed in an explosion of chestnut hair that hasn't seen a comb since its owner could run. When the eye notices you noticing it, it quickly disappears behind the coop. ``Carp, sweetie, be a darling and fetch my biscuit tin'' Qelline yells. The eye's owner steps shyly from behind the coop and quickly runs indoor, carefully avoiding eye contact. A minute later, he returns and hands the biscuit tin to his mother. She opens it and sets it on the table in front of you, before picking up her son and setting him down in her lap.

He curiously peers at each of you in turn before exclaiming, ``I'm an adventurer too!'' His mother gives a hearty laugh and ruffles his hair.

\section*{Shrine of Luck}

In the main square, some of the fallen masonry is piled up into a crude shrine. The townspeople, not being naturally accustomed to receiving anything from anyone for free, dedicated the shrine to the least thing one could hope for in this wild land, luck. The goddess of luck, Tymora, to be precise. When you approach the shrine, you see a young elf that was peeling potatoes in front of a house next to the shrine put down her work and quickly run over to the shrine. ``Welcome to the Shrine of Luck, brave adventurers. Have you come to beseech Tymora for her blessing?'' she asks, and despite the fact that her hands are empty, you somehow hear the sound of coins rattling in a tin.

\section*{The Sleeping Giant}

From the outside, the Sleeping Giant tap house looks abandoned. If it weren't for the dim light coming through the cracks in the boarded-up windows, and the loud shouts of drunken people, it would look like any other ruin in Phandalin. When you open the door, your nostrils are assaulted by the stench of too many people and not enough soap, with orphaned beer adding its own trills to the olfactory symphony. The noise of the crowd stumbles into silence as all faces turn toward you. You notice that almost everyone in the taproom is wearing a red cloak.

\textbf{[If met Zach]}

A familiar voice in the crowd breaks the silence, ``will you look at what the cat dragged in!'' Zach steps out of the crowd, drawing a shortsword. Dor and a few other red-cloaked ruffians join him.

\textbf{[If not met Zach]}

``Who the hell are you?'' you hear from the crowd. A vaguely handsome man steps forward, flanked by a few other ruffians in red cloaks, one of whom can only be described as a cross between a bear and a thumb.

``Take it outside, Zach, or I'm sending Glasstaff a cleaning bill with your name on it,'' the dwarf behind the bar yells at him, without looking up from the glass she is studiously smearing filth on with an ancient dishrag. Zach starts to open his mouth, when the barwoman gives him the kind of stern glance only experienced barkeeps can pull off.

``Right.'' he says, before advancing on the door where you are standing.

\textbf{[Redbrand Ruffian Encounter]}

\vspace{1em}
\textbf{[If Redbrand Ruffian Encounter done]}

\textbf{[Bluffing]}

A heavily-scarred man, whose greenish tinge suggests either orcish ancestry, or a lot of time spent underground, finally breaks the silence, ``'e's lettin' just anyone join now, is 'e?''

``Roight, new blood, we 'ave a bit of a ritual for fresh meat. Don' we, boys?'' The rest of the clientele raises a cheer. ``You wanna be one o' us? You got to kiss... the... toe!''

A chant of ``Kiss! the! toe! Kiss! the! toe!'' goes up behind him.

The dwarf behind the bar sets down a glass, then pulls a can and a brown bottle from under the counter. She fishes a desiccated ogre toe from the can, drops it into the glass and tops it up with clear, hopefully alcoholic, liquid.

``You can drink it fast, or you can drink it slow, but your lips must kiss the toe,'' the scarred man declaims, ``'oo's goin' first?''

\textbf{[If detected]}

``'oo the 'ell are you?'' you hear from the crowd. A heavily-scarred man, whose greenish tinge suggests either orcish ancestry, or a lot of time spent underground, steps forward. He is flanked by a few other ruffians, all in red cloaks.

``Take it outside, or I'm sending Glasstaff a cleaning bill with your name on it,'' the dwarf behind the bar yells at him. She does not even look up from the glass she is studiously smearing filth on with an ancient dishrag. The man starts to open his mouth, when the barwoman gives him the stern glance of a barkeep with a well-trained throwing arm.


\section*{Townmaster's Hall}

Just off the main square, there is a large stone building with a bell tower. Nailed to the front of the building is a notice board, which marks the building as government, or at least as much government as a town like this can afford. This consist of one townmaster, whom the townspeople elect to serve as the judge in any minor disputes and keep any records that need to be kept.

The notice board prominently features one poster:

\begin{samepage}
    \begin{centering}
        \vspace{1em}
        \Large\sqrcfamily ORCS!

        \nopagebreak
        \fontsize{36pt}{45pt}\selectfont\gothfamily $\sim$ REWARD $\sim$

        \nopagebreak
        \vspace{1em}
        \nopagebreak
        \large\sqrcfamily Orcs near Wyvern Tor!

        \nopagebreak
        \calligra Those of a mind to face the orc menace should inquire within.

        \vspace{1em}
    \end{centering}
\end{samepage}

You enter a modest reception, where a gray-haired woman is peacefully knitting behind a desk piled high with papers. ``Go right in, the townmaster is expecting you,'' she motions at one of the doors with her needles, then goes right back to knitting.

Behind the door is a sitting room with a fireplace and several cozy, if worn, armchairs, two of which are occupied. One, by a balding old man of ample proportions, the other by Sildar Hallwinter.

``Oh good, you've made it!'' Sildar exclaims, ``Harbin, these are the good lads that pulled me out of that goblin cave. You should get them to owe you a favor or two. I see them going far in this world.''

``Oh, I've seen their type. A miner will probably bring their corpses back from the wilderness next week,'' Harbin replies with a self-satisfied chuckle.

``Would you mind looking into the orc trouble some of the prospectors have been reporting?'' he addresses you, ``there is a reward.''

\textbf{[Done talking]}

``Could I have a word with you before you leave?'' Sildar inquires, ``follow me.''

Walking across the reception hall, he stops at the desk, ``Sarah, would you be so good and fetch my colleagues and I some coffee?''

``Right away, sir,'' she responds dryly without looking up from her knitting.

``Thank you.''

Sildar leads you across the hall to another door, that reveals a cross between a store room and an office. ``The townmaster is letting me use this as my base of operations. I haven't had time to clean it out quite yet.'' He sits behind the makeshift desk, but doesn't invite you to sit, which is for the best, as you would have had to stack to fit into the tiny room.

``You have probably noticed by now that this town has a long way to go before we might think of it as `civilization.' As the local representative of the Lords' Alliance, I intend to help it along. In interest of that, I would like to engage your company in some tasks to further our cause.''

There is a knock at the door and Sarah comes in bearing a tray of mugs and a plate of biscuits. She sets the tray on the desk and, having received thanks from Sildar, departs. ``Help yourselves. The coffee's barely drinkable, but the biscuits are excellent.

``Right, to business. First, as you know, Cragmaw goblins have been ravaging the countryside and ambushing caravans. We know they made their base in Cragmaw Castle, however, so far, no one has been able to locate it. If you were to find it and clear it out, the Lords' Alliance would reward you quite handsomely. We also believe Gundren was taken to Cragmaw Castle and, more importantly, Gundren's map, showing the location of Wave Echo cave, should be there as well. The revival of the mine in Wave Echo Cave is of utmost importance for the future prosperity and therefore development of this town.

``On a more personal note, one of our operatives, one Iarno Albrek, who was assigned to a post in this town, has gone missing. He was last seen exploring around the Tresendar Manor, about two months ago. If you could find him and bring him back -- or at least what's left of him -- we would be very thankful. He is a short, dark-bearded human. He is also a wizard, so a robe, bloodshot eyes and a chest you can serve soup in could also be a clue.''


\section*{Redbrand Ruffian Encounter}

``Oi, you!'' the well-known prelude begins. You turn to see a band of red-cloaked ruffians blocking the street. A vaguely handsome looking man is already drawing his shortsword and smiling a nasty smile. He is flanked by a  man who can only be described as a cross between a bear and a thumb, and a few others from the standard henchman catalog. ``Hi, my name is Zachy, and I'm gonna be running you out of town this morning,'' the handsome man informs you.

``We don't need your kind in this town, so this is how it's gonna go,'' Zach continues, ``you're gonna give use all your weapons and your gold, and then you'll be on your way out of town, and you'll never come back. Sounds reasonable? Great!''

\chapter{Redbrand Hideout}

Large parts of the manor have collapsed in on themselves. From some vantage points, you can see the skeleton of the old building and empty rooms gaping onto the hole in the center. The furniture is gone, and any usable building material has long-since been scavenged for houses down in the village.

Beside the backdoor to the kitchens, a set of stairs lead down to a cellar.

\section*{Cellar}

The door opens onto a landing over what used to be the storage room for the kitchen upstairs. The air is clammy, and you can just detect the smell of long-gone potatoes. In the center of the room below you is a cistern full of clear water. Along the walls are arrayed crates and barrels in various states of decay. Some of the barrels look surprisingly new for a long-abandoned ruin.

\section*{Trapped Hallway}

The hallway is flanked by decorative columns, spaced at regular intervals, and ends in an ornate set of double doors, plated in copper, now green with age. There is dust on the floor and cobwebs in every corner; it seems like no-one has been down this hall since the manor was
abandoned.

\section*{Jail Cells}

The room has jail cells on either side, and a distinct aura of despair. Against the back well there is a large pile of clothes. One of the cells contains a pair of disheveled women, while in the other, a teenage boy is sitting on the floor in a corner, hugging his knees.

\section*{Crevasse}

A vast cavern opens up before you, the ceiling held up by two columns. A light breeze emanating from the crevasse that bisects the cave carries with itself a faint scent of decaying flesh. In the darkness, you can see the outlines of two bridge crossing the crevasse. Around the walls of the cavern, various passages lead deeper into other parts of the cellars.

\section*{Guard Barracks}

The bugbears inhabiting this room have managed to thoroughly impress their personality upon this room. The bunks are piled with dirty clothes and there are dirty dishes on every surface, some still containing food in various states of decay. The smell of rotting food is only tempered by the chemically-organic smell of unwashed goblinoids.

The inhabitants are variously standing or lounging around the center of the room, where a goblin is standing on its head, trying to clap its feet together. The laughter stops, and all heads turn toward you. Upon seeing you, the goblin faints and falls to the floor.

``Who the fuck are you?'' inquires a bugbear wearing a jeweled eye patch.

\section*{KPL: Kill Place Looking-at}

``Get everyone in here. Mosk solves the case!'' a voice sounds from the common room.

\textbf{[Gathered?]}

% LTeX: enabled=false

A bugbear with a jeweled eyepatch paces up and down in front of the gambling table. He stops to pull a short piece of threaded pipe and an elbow joint from his pocket. From the other pocket, he pulls a few strands of what appears to be hemp fiber and carefully wraps them around the threads. He screws the two pieces together and puts the long end in his mouth. After testing that the joint is airtight he takes it out of his mouth and say: ``ar. You is all here.''

``Mosk will now tell you what has happened here,'' Mosk says, taking a pull off the pipe.

``See dis card 'ere? It stabbed through. It must be cheaty card. And Jack here? He pointing at Mitch.'' Mosk takes another pull off his plumbing. ``But Mitch not cheaty man. Himb is good cardplayer.''

``O. But dere is another thing. Summon spilt dere dinner on da floor 'ere.'' He walks over the the door, runs his finger throught the spilled remains of the potion and puts it in his mouth. ``Mmmmm. Now. Why would summon spill all good din-din?''

He knock his pipe on the table and nothing falls out of it. ``You see T'im ova dere? Dis his favorit' stew! So Mosk is thinkin', wat if T'im spilt himb's chow on purpose, ta distract bot Jack \emph{an} Mitch, an summon \emph{else} did da cheatycheats. Summon else makes Jack an Mitch an da bois kill demself.''

Mosk walks over to where a playing card is pinned to the table with a dagger. ``The card... O', da' card...'' the bugbear tails off. ``I thoughts da' card just cheaty card. But the card most important clue of dem all.''

``Da' card say [Six] o' [Clubs/Swords]. Dere six o' you nu' bois. An' on-a you's got a [club/sword]. You come with Mosk, an' we go talk ta Glasstaff.''

% LTeX: enabled=true

\section*{Letter to Iarno}

\begin{samepage}
    \raggedright
    \Large
    \calligra Lord Albrek,

    my spies in Neverwinter tell me that strangers are due to arrive in Phandalin. They could be working for the dwarves.

    Capture them if you can, kill them if you must, bur don't allow them to upset our plans. See that any dwarven maps in their possession are delivered to me with haste.

    I'm counting on you, Iarno. Don't disappoint me.
    \begin{center}
        \includegraphics[width=1in]{black\_spider}    
    \end{center}
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