3. Wyvern Tor

The sun sinks behind the western hills and the long shadows of the nearest mountains stretch across the land. Today's march has been hard but almost uneventful.

At last, Redhawk finds a suitable place to make camp.

A low rise of earth offers some shelter from the wind, and a cluster of weathered boulders forms a natural ring around a patch of level ground. A few stunted pines cling stubbornly to the hillside, their branches sighing softly in the evening breeze.

Beyond the rise, the land falls away into darkening valleys and broken hills. Somewhere ahead, hidden among those rugged heights, lies Wyvern Tor.

Still a day's journey away. So Gertrude gives a contented snort as her burden is lifted and immediately begins nosing at a patch of grass.

For the moment, there is peace. Somewhere in the distance, an owl calls while the fire crackles softly, sending sparks dancing upward into the darkness. Packs are set down, waterskins passed around, and weary feet finally find rest.

Tomorrow may bring orcs, danger, and hard choices but tonight, there is only the campfire and one another.

Igrem settles down and helps make the camp. Once everyone is seated, he breaks the uneasy silence he kept since the party's last encounter. "The Temple of Truth is bad news. It is a place of treachery, contrary to what the name implies. I didn't know it was around this region, but let's be wary of anyone who claims, proudly or not, to be linked to it." Feeling obviously released to have said that, he adds: "I didn't want the two bandits, or anyone else, to hear this before we were far. But I think you ought to know."

Boggart is reclined against a large, slanted stone, a stalk of rush dangling from his mouth. A crown of woven wild flowers slowly takes shape in his hands. Puck is curled up beside him, casting a gentle golden glow. Fireflies twinkle as night falls, oddly concentrated around Boggart. "Have you some history with that place, friend Igrem?"

Igrem, you will certainly be able to seek out more information once you return to Phandalin.

Up until now, this was just one of the (many) legendary places you had heard about. So, for the moment, you only recall what is already here.

Redhawk listens as he eats"It seems like most things named like that are to hide the real way things are. But to see a giant would have been something. Have only heard of them in tails to scare kids."

"Yes, Redhawk, it would have been something. But I still would like to see one from afar. Or up close only if I had a squadron of knights and wizards behind me," Alex responded. "I'm happy to take second watch, if someone wakes me. Anyway, I need to practice my footwork; a rapier requires different moves than a shortsword." Alex pats Gertrude as he walks by. "Are we hunting for dinner?", he asks the party at large.

"I only know a few things. Once a sanctuary and neutral ground, this ancient castle has been used for parley and peaceful agreements. Long ago, though, the mother of treachery took place there, and it has been a cursed place ever since. I don't have many details about this legend, but anyone proud to be going there now probably does not have good intentions."

He ponders what he said for a while, then adds: "You are right, Redhawk, not all of it might be true, but believe it best to go there well prepared, if we decide to do it, and expecting the worse."

The mage is obviously not in a good mood, and proposes to take first watch, as he is not ready yet to go to sleep.

Igrem's sour mood dampens Boggart's usual mirth somewhat. "Well," he clears his throat, "that's neither here nor there. Best put it out of mind until we've addressed our current troubles."

The crown of wild flowers takes shape, and donning it brings a smile back to Boggart's face. He holds up a pouch towards the group. "Berries, anyone? There's not enough to fill a belly, but I'm glad to share."

Boggart's offered berries make their rounds, and even Igrem's dour mood softens somewhat.

---

Igrem keeps the first watch in thoughtful silence, occasionally glancing southward, perhaps toward the unseen and accursed Temple of Truth.

Alex takes the second, practicing a few careful flourishes with his rapier before settling beside the fire, listening to the distant chirping of crickets.

Redhawk's turn comes in the darkest hours before dawn. The hunter hears only the ordinary sounds of the wilderness—the rustle of a rabbit in the brush, the hoot of an owl, the whisper of the wind through dry grass.

The night passes uneventfully.

---

The first rays of dawn paint the eastern sky in shades of gold and pale pink.

A cool mist clings to the low ground, and dew sparkles upon the grasses. Birds begin their morning songs while Gertrude announces the new day with an indignant bray, apparently of the opinion that breakfast is long overdue.

The camp is broken quickly, packs are shouldered, and the wagon made ready.

Now, with the morning sun climbing above the hills, you must decide how to proceed.

From what you know, you have at least two options:

Narth Tezrin's Farm
Visiting Narth could provide:

- More precise information on the orcs' numbers and movements.
- Rumors and recent sightings from the local farms.
- Better directions toward Wyvern Tor and the surrounding hills.
- A place to rest or resupply before (or after) facing the orcs.

The Wilderness Near Wyvern Tor
Alternatively, you could head directly toward Wyvern Tor itself and begin searching the wilderness.

This approach may:

- Save valuable time
- Avoid involving the farmers in further danger.

But it also risks:

- Searching a large area with limited information.
- Missing signs or information the locals might know.
- Walking into the orcs' territory blind.

The morning is still young, and the hills of the region stretch out before you.

As they break their fast Redhawk looks to the others" I would suggest we head to Narth Tezrin's farm. From experience the more information you have about your Hunt the better. It is easy to moss in such a big area with no idea where to start. We could spend days before finding the first hint of orcs. A point in the right direction is always good."He pauses"What do you all think?"

"My thoughts exactly, friend," Boggart says. "When the way is known, why not walk it?"

"I trust you in that, friend." says Igrem to Redhawk, while making his last preparations before leaving.

With the decision made to head to Narth Tezrin's farm Redhawk will move out ahead to make sure the wagon has easy travel.

Alex laments the fact that they did not purchase sufficient fodder for Gertrude, and while the other members of the party perform their tasks, Alex tries to lead Gertrude (and the wagon) to some tasty patches of nettles or grass.

Boggart will spend his travel time scanning the horizon, keeping his eyes and ears open for anything interesting.

Redhawk successfully guides the party for most of the day.

It's already afternoon when the trail bends around a low, grassy hillside before descending into a shallow meadow. Long shadows stretch across the swaying grass, and the air carries the lazy hum of insects drifting from patch to patch of wildflowers. The scent of polen and sun-warmed earth fills the air.

There, grazing peacefully as though nothing were amiss, Boggart notices a small flock of sheep.

They wander aimlessly across the meadow. No shepherd watches over them. No sheepdog circles the flock.

One ewe even lifts its head and lets out a lonely bleat before lowering its muzzle once more to the grass, as if waiting for someone who has yet to return.

Alex, the farmhouse is still an hour or two away.

Oooh look, sheep! Alex remarks. Alex grew up around horses and dogs in Amphail. While he’s seen barnyard animals before, he hasn’t had much to do with them after leaving Amphail for Waterdeep.