i am writing a dnd campaign. help me build a story
they find a town where there was not one on the map
they begin to approach the town as the sun goes down and they are confronted by guards.
The guards say "No entry this evening. You must make camp elsewhere and try tomorrow." They refuse to explain why.
From across the lake they can see flickering lights coming from the town's cornfields. Almost like bonfires. Or lanterns.
This would be easy enough to write off as simply another insignificant hamlet's autumn festival - the corn stalks are full enough to roil like a sea in the breeze; ripe pumpkins sit in the cool mud of neighboring fields; even the moon is a vivid yellow waxing crescent. It's a perfect night to celebrate the harvest.
^^^
But as two of your party members note, even barring the strange behavior of the town guards, something pends investigation.
It was a waning crescent yesterday.
It is said that the blackwood was cut in to the earth by ancient, eldritch forces.
There, twisted oak trees are mangled into a thicket that has never been touched by the sun.
No man that ever entered has ever come back alive, though many have been bested by the blackwood. Those who call themselves adventurers. Mercenaries and Vagabonds. Grim faced burglars. Somewhere in the dark depths of that forest, their bodies are strewn about, beneath hell knows what.
It is whispered, that a few months ago, Jarl Garrard had his meadhall beseiged by a black force from the wood. Wicked creatures that were man nor beast, supposedly made splinters of his gates, before taking his daughter, and his five treasured dancing girls, as well as his treasury...
You and your companions come to a halt in the center of the forest clearing. The old crone of the village had always warned you of the dangers beset by the blackwood, but standing before it's gruesome lanes, you know that her tales fell short of the truth.
The trees here are all overgrown with ropey, thorn encrusted vines. The bodies of three men, hung about the throat, sway listlessly in the fog.
Somewhere within this fell wood, there is bound to be treasure and mystery. Steeling your courage, you grip your feeble weapons tighter and wonder if you will ever see the light of day again.
Passing beneath the oak canopy, the trees and their roots have bore a tunnel through the darkness. A raven cuts through the air, overhead. Despite the wall of fog and brambles ahead, you can make out the shape of ancient stone ruins ahead. The crow caws in the distance, as if beckoning you deeper into the wicked darkwood...
...What do you do?
>>6515030
whattt? no man cut it out with the copypasta
>>6515892
My friend, I wrote that just for OP. (I've been writing adventure modules for 20 years.)
>>6516265
A wave of reluctance passed over the party as the chill wind drained them of their confidence. Urging them forward, almost frantically was Ser Baldwin, a knight of the holy order (NPC). Known to the rest of the adventurers only by his many heroic deeds, the knight lead the expedition with promises of honor and glory. As the days passed, his features had started to slowly deteriorate. His once handsome features had faded leaving hallowed eyes and a pale complexion. Adding to his oddities was the fact that he had barely eaten or slept since having joined the group.
"The castle lies before us, just as the hunter had said. We are so close!" He muttered striding forward to take the lead through the mist as if being pulled by invisible strings.
>>6516189
DMing is my only purpose in life. It's the only thing I'm good at... But goddamn, do I do it well!
>>6515030
great introduction, can you elaborate more? I love to read this kind of stories and I need some inspiration.
Go to bed, Jose.
