The sun had barely begun to rise above the horizon when six adventurers first crossed paths in the bustling city of Everlund. The city, surrounded by walls of white stone, exuded an air of calm and hospitality, yet there was a faint undercurrent of unease, as if the place itself sensed that those who had gathered here were no ordinary travelers. Each of them had come from a different corner of Faerûn, each with their own story, their own reasons for standing on the brink of adventure. And yet, when their eyes met beneath the shade of a great tree in the market square, something sparked—a thread of destiny that bound their fates together.
The conversation flowed naturally, as if they had known each other for years. They gathered in one of the cozy inns, where the scent of roasted meat and fresh bread mingled with the sound of a guitar and the laughter of patrons. It was there that they first heard of the Fallen Fortress—an abandoned stronghold deep within the Greypeak Mountains, shrouded in legend and mystery. Whispers spoke of forgotten treasures hidden within its walls, as well as dark secrets that could alter the course of history. It didn’t take much to convince them to embark on the journey together.
A local historian and cartographer, an old man with a graying beard and piercing eyes, provided them with an ancient, yellowed map. His hands trembled as he traced the path through mountain passes and forest trails. “Be careful”, he whispered, his voice like a wind carrying a warning. “The Fallen Fortress is no place for the unwary fools. Its walls remember a time when the world was younger, and magic flowed more freely than it does now.”
Equipped with the map and filled with determination, they set out at dawn. The first day of their journey took them through green valleys and dense forests, where sunlight barely pierced the canopy. By the second day, the landscape began to change—gentle hills gave way to steep slopes, and the air grew colder, sharp and biting in their lungs. In the distance, like a sentinel watching over the land, the gray peaks of the Greypeak Mountains loomed.
And then they saw it—the Fallen Fortress. Its silhouette emerged from the mist, towering and ominous, as if it had grown from the very heart of the mountains. The map they had so carefully studied became unnecessary. The tower is quatrefoil in plan; its eastern wing has largely collapsed, exposing the interior doors to the open air. Only the topmost level seems whole, though its eastern portion hangs precariously over the mountain of rubble left by the collapse. At ground level, the rubble frames a gaping hole in the side of the building that provides access to the tower’s darkened interior.
They paused for a moment, gazing at it with a mix of awe and apprehension. The wind carried echoes of ancient battles, and the air was thick with magic—old and powerful. Each of them felt a shiver, but none turned back. They knew this was only the beginning of their shared story—a story that would unfold in the shadow of the Fallen Fortress, where past and present intertwined in a dangerous dance.
And so, with hearts full of hope and minds wary of danger, they pressed on toward the fortress, ready to face whatever awaited them.
OOC:
you're about 50 feet from the darkened entrance to the tower.
the area looks completely deserted and quiet. Using your passive perception, none of you see anything strange or suspicious.
if you want to roll for skills, feel free to do so.
let me know in the posts what formation you approach the ruined fortress in - who goes first, who's in the middle, and who's bringing up the rear.
it'll be cool if you write more than one sentence in the adventure, but this is a quick, fun dungeon crawl so I don't expect any elaborate essays.
have fun!
POSTING TEMPLATE:
[CHARACTER AVATAR - you have them at the beginning of my post] Name
Posts should use the default size and colour for optimal viewing across different devices. If you decide to use colours, it's best to adhere to the basic palette.
"Speech should always be in quotes and in bold."Thoughts should be in italics.
The old dwarf stood firm, just shy of fifty feet from the darkened entrance of the ruined tower. The cold mountain wind stirred his beard, the iron-grey braids shifting like banners on a battlefield long abandoned. His warhammer rested against his shoulder, his grip steady but relaxed—an old habit from years spent standing at the edge of sieges, watching and waiting for the first sign of trouble.
The place was quiet. Too quiet.
Thorek narrowed his eyes, scanning the rubble-strewn ground and the gaping wound in the tower’s side. He'd seen fortresses like this before—once proud, now left to time and ruin. But ruins had a way of remembering, and sometimes, they didn’t take kindly to visitors.
He shifted his stance, glancing back at the others. "Nothin’ movin’. No sign of tracks. Just old stone and bad memories." His voice was low and steady, his words carried away slightly by the wind.
Turning his gaze back to the entrance, he exhaled slowly. "A place like this… ain't empty, even when it looks it."
He took another step forward, careful not to disturb loose rock beneath his boots. Then, after a moment, he stopped just short of the rubble-strewn opening and turned his head slightly toward the rogue (Hakim). "Yer up. Get us in clean."
Then, shifting his warhammer into both hands, he settled in looking at the surroundings and the stone to see if they give any information.
OOC: Making a perception check to see if he can see anything beyond passive: 20 Additionally, when as they approach he is looking at the stone and seeing if his stonecunning can make out anything about the entrance or surrounding buildings: 5
Kitsune's silvery eyes narrowed, scanning the rubble and the gaping entrance to the fortress. Even with the stillness and the lack of visible threats, her senses remained heightened, searching for any subtle signs of magic or hidden dangers (Perception: 24). She moved forward, her steps light and deliberate, her raven-black hair swaying gently in the light breeze.
"I'll scout ahead" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Thorek, you take point behind me. Hakim, flank, if you would. Valhilda, Flynt, stay in the middle, and Atreus, watch our backs."
As she moved, she began to examine the ground, her fingers tracing the rough texture of the rubble.
She continued forward, her eyes darting from the rubble to the walls, searching for any sign of traps or hidden mechanisms. "Careful" she whispered, her voice barely a breath. "The ground is uneven, and there might be loose stones. And...this place gives me the creeps!"
She signaled to the others with a subtle hand gesture, indicating that they should proceed cautiously. "Stay close" she whispered. "And keep your eyes open. This place...it's alive with secrets."
As Kitsune and Thorek approached the massive, moss-covered walls of the fortress, their steps became almost soundless, as if the earth itself was trying not to betray their presence. The air was heavy with moisture and the scent of ancient stone, and the silence around them felt almost unnatural. No movement, no sound, no trace of life. The entrance to the fortress stood open, like a dark maw ready to swallow anyone who dared to cross its threshold.
Kitsune, the agile ranger, paused for a moment, her sharp eyes piercing the gloom, searching for even the slightest sign of danger. Thorek, the dwarf with a hardened gaze and hands accustomed to hard labor, stood beside her, his weapon ready for battle. But there was nothing. No sign of guards, no creatures that might pose a threat. Only that silence, thick and unsettling.
Then, just as they were about to move forward, a sound reached their ears. Low, rhythmic, almost... ordinary. Snoring. Loud, drawn-out, reminiscent of the sound dogs make when they fall into a deep sleep. Thorek raised an eyebrow, and Kitsune tilted her head slightly, listening. The sound came from inside the tower, somewhere in the darkness.
The snoring was so ordinary, yet so out of place in this setting, that it aroused more suspicion than if they had heard the roar of a beast. Was it really just a sleeping dog? Or something larger, more powerful, pretending to be a harmless creature? In the darkness of the fortress, where every shadow could hide danger, even the simplest sounds took on a sinister meaning.
Kitsune and Thorek exchanged glances, knowing they had to be ready for anything. Even for what seemed ordinary. Because in this place, nothing was as it appeared. They also had to let the others know what they had heard.
OOC:
I'll wait until the other players reply and then I'll move the action forward.
"Did you hear that?" Kitsune whispered, her eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. "Snoring. Inside. Loud. Too loud. It's coming from deeper in...but it sounds...normal. Too normal. Be ready. It could be a trap, or something pretending to be harmless." She then looks to the rogue "Hakim, can you use your skills to get a better idea of what is making that sound?"
Stepping up next to the old dwarf, wondering how the old timer seemed to manage the miles better them himself. Theramon, the name he offers to most including this group, was no spring chicken himself but the dwarf was more into the years then he himself. Getting a closer look at the tower brought a bit more excitement and invigorating his tired muscles. Leaning more on his staff more then he showed, the layed his open hand on the Dwarfs shoulder. "Before we send or compadre in, perhaps we could give him something to light the way. Not to mention I have a friend to send with him to help him look about." A spider crawls along the sleeve of Theramon's robes (Find Familiar) "I will be able to look through his eyes and report back what Hakim finds." Theramon pulls a scroll case from his pack. "Find me a rock that can fit in here and I will make it shine for light." Turning towards Hakim. "You can hold the rock and light up everything around you, or if you put it in the case you can make a sole beam of light, less noticeable that way. You can always cap the case to stop the light as well if you wish. Most find a rock less burdensome then a torch but that is always an option as well" Turning back towards the tower, he stares to see anything jumps out of him as movement or out of place.
Perception: 7, clearly distracted by the possibilities before him to notice much else.
Thorek Ironthane stood motionless as the sound of snoring drifted through the broken entrance of the tower. His warhammer shifted slightly in his grip, the fingers of his free hand tightening against the worn leather wrap on the haft. As his other hand reached back pulling the shield off his back. His stone-grey eyes flicked toward Kitsune as she whispered her observations, then back to the yawning darkness ahead.
Snoring.
Of all the things he’d expected—dead silence, the skittering of vermin, perhaps the unsettling hum of lingering magic—this was not one of them. It set his teeth on edge. Ordinary sounds had no business being in a place long sealed away by time and magic. Ordinary sounds in places like this meant something unnatural was at work.
His breath came slow, steady, as he processed the ranger’s words. Could be a beast. Could be a trap. Could be worse.
Thorek didn’t jump at shadows, nor did he balk at danger, but he also didn’t rush headlong into a dark hole without knowing what waited inside.
At Theramon’s touch, the old dwarf turned his head slightly, listening as the man spoke of his familiar and his plan to provide Hakim with light. Thorek gave a small grunt, a sound somewhere between acknowledgment and approval.
“Aye,” he rumbled, voice low but carrying the weight of stone. “Best we see before we step. I’ve walked into plenty o’ keeps, and I’ll tell ye this—things lurk in places where men once stood.” He shifted his hammer, glancing down. “Here” he bent slightly, plucking a smooth river stone from the rubble at his feet and tossing it toward Theramon’s waiting hands. “This’ll do.”
His gaze then moved to Hakim. "Ye go in, ye stay low, stay quiet. Ye see somethin’ that don’t sit right, ye back out. No playin’ hero in a ruin that’s already swallowed better folk."
Then he turned his gaze back to the darkened threshold, waiting—because if there was one thing he’d learned in a lifetime of war and siege, it was that a fortress never gives up its secrets easily.
The sun had barely begun to rise above the horizon when six adventurers first crossed paths in the bustling city of Everlund. The city, surrounded by walls of white stone, exuded an air of calm and hospitality, yet there was a faint undercurrent of unease, as if the place itself sensed that those who had gathered here were no ordinary travelers. Each of them had come from a different corner of Faerûn, each with their own story, their own reasons for standing on the brink of adventure. And yet, when their eyes met beneath the shade of a great tree in the market square, something sparked—a thread of destiny that bound their fates together.
The conversation flowed naturally, as if they had known each other for years. They gathered in one of the cozy inns, where the scent of roasted meat and fresh bread mingled with the sound of a guitar and the laughter of patrons. It was there that they first heard of the Fallen Fortress—an abandoned stronghold deep within the Greypeak Mountains, shrouded in legend and mystery. Whispers spoke of forgotten treasures hidden within its walls, as well as dark secrets that could alter the course of history. It didn’t take much to convince them to embark on the journey together.
Equipped with the map and filled with determination, they set out at dawn. The first day of their journey took them through green valleys and dense forests, where sunlight barely pierced the canopy. By the second day, the landscape began to change—gentle hills gave way to steep slopes, and the air grew colder, sharp and biting in their lungs. In the distance, like a sentinel watching over the land, the gray peaks of the Greypeak Mountains loomed.
And then they saw it—the Fallen Fortress. Its silhouette emerged from the mist, towering and ominous, as if it had grown from the very heart of the mountains. The map they had so carefully studied became unnecessary. The tower is quatrefoil in plan; its eastern wing has largely collapsed, exposing the interior doors to the open air. Only the topmost level seems whole, though its eastern portion hangs precariously over the mountain of rubble left by the collapse. At ground level, the rubble frames a gaping hole in the side of the building that provides access to the tower’s darkened interior.
They paused for a moment, gazing at it with a mix of awe and apprehension. The wind carried echoes of ancient battles, and the air was thick with magic—old and powerful. Each of them felt a shiver, but none turned back. They knew this was only the beginning of their shared story—a story that would unfold in the shadow of the Fallen Fortress, where past and present intertwined in a dangerous dance.
And so, with hearts full of hope and minds wary of danger, they pressed on toward the fortress, ready to face whatever awaited them.
OOC:
POSTING TEMPLATE:
[CHARACTER AVATAR - you have them at the beginning of my post]
Name
Posts should use the default size and colour for optimal viewing across different devices. If you decide to use colours, it's best to adhere to the basic palette.
"Speech should always be in quotes and in bold." Thoughts should be in italics.
Thorek
The old dwarf stood firm, just shy of fifty feet from the darkened entrance of the ruined tower. The cold mountain wind stirred his beard, the iron-grey braids shifting like banners on a battlefield long abandoned. His warhammer rested against his shoulder, his grip steady but relaxed—an old habit from years spent standing at the edge of sieges, watching and waiting for the first sign of trouble.
The place was quiet. Too quiet.
Thorek narrowed his eyes, scanning the rubble-strewn ground and the gaping wound in the tower’s side. He'd seen fortresses like this before—once proud, now left to time and ruin. But ruins had a way of remembering, and sometimes, they didn’t take kindly to visitors.
He shifted his stance, glancing back at the others. "Nothin’ movin’. No sign of tracks. Just old stone and bad memories." His voice was low and steady, his words carried away slightly by the wind.
Turning his gaze back to the entrance, he exhaled slowly. "A place like this… ain't empty, even when it looks it."
He took another step forward, careful not to disturb loose rock beneath his boots. Then, after a moment, he stopped just short of the rubble-strewn opening and turned his head slightly toward the rogue (Hakim). "Yer up. Get us in clean."
Then, shifting his warhammer into both hands, he settled in looking at the surroundings and the stone to see if they give any information.
OOC:
Making a perception check to see if he can see anything beyond passive: 20
Additionally, when as they approach he is looking at the stone and seeing if his stonecunning can make out anything about the entrance or surrounding buildings: 5
Campaigns:
Wildemount: The Felderwin Irregulars (2020) - Balassar Silverstone - Dragonborn Fighter (Rune Knight) Lv. 5 | Rise of TIamat - Aiwin Aralana - Wood Elf Fighter/Ranger (Arcane Archer/Gloom Stalker) Lv. 9
Kitsune Narisu
Kitsune's silvery eyes narrowed, scanning the rubble and the gaping entrance to the fortress. Even with the stillness and the lack of visible threats, her senses remained heightened, searching for any subtle signs of magic or hidden dangers (Perception: 24). She moved forward, her steps light and deliberate, her raven-black hair swaying gently in the light breeze.
"I'll scout ahead" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Thorek, you take point behind me. Hakim, flank, if you would. Valhilda, Flynt, stay in the middle, and Atreus, watch our backs."
As she moved, she began to examine the ground, her fingers tracing the rough texture of the rubble.
She continued forward, her eyes darting from the rubble to the walls, searching for any sign of traps or hidden mechanisms. "Careful" she whispered, her voice barely a breath. "The ground is uneven, and there might be loose stones. And...this place gives me the creeps!"
She signaled to the others with a subtle hand gesture, indicating that they should proceed cautiously. "Stay close" she whispered. "And keep your eyes open. This place...it's alive with secrets."
Last to know and first to be blamed...
As a free action, can I regret my life choices?
As Kitsune and Thorek approached the massive, moss-covered walls of the fortress, their steps became almost soundless, as if the earth itself was trying not to betray their presence. The air was heavy with moisture and the scent of ancient stone, and the silence around them felt almost unnatural. No movement, no sound, no trace of life. The entrance to the fortress stood open, like a dark maw ready to swallow anyone who dared to cross its threshold.
Kitsune, the agile ranger, paused for a moment, her sharp eyes piercing the gloom, searching for even the slightest sign of danger. Thorek, the dwarf with a hardened gaze and hands accustomed to hard labor, stood beside her, his weapon ready for battle. But there was nothing. No sign of guards, no creatures that might pose a threat. Only that silence, thick and unsettling.
Then, just as they were about to move forward, a sound reached their ears. Low, rhythmic, almost... ordinary. Snoring. Loud, drawn-out, reminiscent of the sound dogs make when they fall into a deep sleep. Thorek raised an eyebrow, and Kitsune tilted her head slightly, listening. The sound came from inside the tower, somewhere in the darkness.
The snoring was so ordinary, yet so out of place in this setting, that it aroused more suspicion than if they had heard the roar of a beast. Was it really just a sleeping dog? Or something larger, more powerful, pretending to be a harmless creature? In the darkness of the fortress, where every shadow could hide danger, even the simplest sounds took on a sinister meaning.
Kitsune and Thorek exchanged glances, knowing they had to be ready for anything. Even for what seemed ordinary. Because in this place, nothing was as it appeared. They also had to let the others know what they had heard.
OOC:
I'll wait until the other players reply and then I'll move the action forward.
Kitsune Narisu
"Did you hear that?" Kitsune whispered, her eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. "Snoring. Inside. Loud. Too loud. It's coming from deeper in...but it sounds...normal. Too normal. Be ready. It could be a trap, or something pretending to be harmless." She then looks to the rogue "Hakim, can you use your skills to get a better idea of what is making that sound?"
Last to know and first to be blamed...
As a free action, can I regret my life choices?
Theramon
Stepping up next to the old dwarf, wondering how the old timer seemed to manage the miles better them himself. Theramon, the name he offers to most including this group, was no spring chicken himself but the dwarf was more into the years then he himself. Getting a closer look at the tower brought a bit more excitement and invigorating his tired muscles. Leaning more on his staff more then he showed, the layed his open hand on the Dwarfs shoulder. "Before we send or compadre in, perhaps we could give him something to light the way. Not to mention I have a friend to send with him to help him look about." A spider crawls along the sleeve of Theramon's robes (Find Familiar) "I will be able to look through his eyes and report back what Hakim finds." Theramon pulls a scroll case from his pack. "Find me a rock that can fit in here and I will make it shine for light." Turning towards Hakim. "You can hold the rock and light up everything around you, or if you put it in the case you can make a sole beam of light, less noticeable that way. You can always cap the case to stop the light as well if you wish. Most find a rock less burdensome then a torch but that is always an option as well" Turning back towards the tower, he stares to see anything jumps out of him as movement or out of place.
Perception: 7, clearly distracted by the possibilities before him to notice much else.
Thorek
Thorek Ironthane stood motionless as the sound of snoring drifted through the broken entrance of the tower. His warhammer shifted slightly in his grip, the fingers of his free hand tightening against the worn leather wrap on the haft. As his other hand reached back pulling the shield off his back. His stone-grey eyes flicked toward Kitsune as she whispered her observations, then back to the yawning darkness ahead.
Snoring.
Of all the things he’d expected—dead silence, the skittering of vermin, perhaps the unsettling hum of lingering magic—this was not one of them. It set his teeth on edge. Ordinary sounds had no business being in a place long sealed away by time and magic. Ordinary sounds in places like this meant something unnatural was at work.
His breath came slow, steady, as he processed the ranger’s words. Could be a beast. Could be a trap. Could be worse.
Thorek didn’t jump at shadows, nor did he balk at danger, but he also didn’t rush headlong into a dark hole without knowing what waited inside.
At Theramon’s touch, the old dwarf turned his head slightly, listening as the man spoke of his familiar and his plan to provide Hakim with light. Thorek gave a small grunt, a sound somewhere between acknowledgment and approval.
“Aye,” he rumbled, voice low but carrying the weight of stone. “Best we see before we step. I’ve walked into plenty o’ keeps, and I’ll tell ye this—things lurk in places where men once stood.” He shifted his hammer, glancing down. “Here” he bent slightly, plucking a smooth river stone from the rubble at his feet and tossing it toward Theramon’s waiting hands. “This’ll do.”
His gaze then moved to Hakim. "Ye go in, ye stay low, stay quiet. Ye see somethin’ that don’t sit right, ye back out. No playin’ hero in a ruin that’s already swallowed better folk."
Then he turned his gaze back to the darkened threshold, waiting—because if there was one thing he’d learned in a lifetime of war and siege, it was that a fortress never gives up its secrets easily.
Campaigns:
Wildemount: The Felderwin Irregulars (2020) - Balassar Silverstone - Dragonborn Fighter (Rune Knight) Lv. 5 | Rise of TIamat - Aiwin Aralana - Wood Elf Fighter/Ranger (Arcane Archer/Gloom Stalker) Lv. 9