The Western Reaches: Voyage to Stonekeep
Its late fall in the forests. The flame-tipped branches have lost the strong grip they once had on their children as the leaves fall towards the ground. The wooded halcyon, a great shrine to peace, sits idol on the banks of the rivers. But, in the farthest reaches of secluded meadows and deep within hidden groves, whispers of a long forgotten name and a blood soaked past begin to resurface. The forest has lain dormant for eons. The most ancient of oaks and great elms were but saplings when the old names were uttered throughout the land. Then, the dark places of the forest harbored only death and fear. The forest had known a time when only malice and hatred reigned, when virtue was thrown from the throne that it ruled from and the dark and ancient names were brought up to replace them. But that is a time that has long since been forgotten.