The three of you have been traveling for the past two weeks, with nothing but the supplies you carry on your back. You are all good friends who decided that this summer, you would backpack through the countryside together and see some of nature's wonders, while visiting some of the oldest historic towns and landmarks that you can reach and taking in the sights. Though most of your journey has been on foot, you hitch rides on buses and trains here and there, where you can.
On this day, however, there has been no bus, train, taxi, or even a bicycle for the past 25 miles. All of you are worn, tired, and dusty from the long hours you have walked. The last time you passed through any kind of town was almost 8 hours ago, and it's getting close to midnight. You've almost agreed to just make some shelter under the dense trees that line the road, when you spot a fork in the road ahead.
According to your map, the route you have planned requires you to take the right fork and continue on to the city of Greystone, the next major stop on your trip. However, to your dismay, you realize that Greystone is not for another 15 miles. A roadsign driven into the hard-packed earth in the middle of the two forks points to the left, and reads as follows: "Glenmoor, 1.25 miles."
Now, all three of you have heard some strange rumors about Glenmoor on your travels through the countryside. Many furs have whispered to you about the strange monsters that roam the forests around Glenmoor, and about an ancient curse that haunts the area. Some have even claimed to have seen ghosts or fairies while staying in Glenmoor, or to have heard strange howling during the night. None of you had realized, until this moment, that you would be passing so close to the notorious village during your trip. The road leading to it is not clearly marked on your map.
Despite the eerie rumors surrounding the town, you all decide that staying for one night can do no harm, and that you are too tired to press on toward Greystone any longer. With sore feet and drooping eyes, your group staggers down the road to Glenmoor.
The trip to Glenmoor doesn't take very long, although the road is rather inhospitable. It rises to meet a soaring cliff face which seemed far in the distance earlier on. The road cuts a path right over the bare rock, the black void of an unknowably high drop yawning at you from the left, and the unyielding stone of the cliff standing rigid to your right. In poor weather, this would be a nightmare to travel, but in the balmy summer night you have little difficulty.
Finally, your weary party reaches the entrance to the town. A sign reads "Welcome to historic Glenmoor!" The whole town seems to be swallowed up by the dark, twisted trees of the forest. It also has a rather jarring look to it. Stores that seem ripped from the medieval ages clash with more modern-looking buildings jammed in between them. A butcher shop down the street from you appears to have been built sometime during the 1300s, while the general store next to it bears a glowing neon sign and an automatic sliding door entrance. The city planning in Glenmoor is clearly not putting much effort into creating a consistent aesthetic.
But none of you have much energy for gawking at scenery. You all notice a building off to your right with an old wooden sign that reads, "Shadowbrook Inn." It has a drawing of a speedy brook flowing through the trees painted on it. You can see yellowish light spilling out from the inn's windows, and can assume that it's currently open for business. From what you can tell, this is the only place where you'll find a good bed for the night.
[Edited to include third player]
