Woodland Omens Turn Hostile Near Logger Roads

The roads near Neverwinter Wood have always had their own manners. Branches lean too close. Birds stop singing for reasons no traveler likes. Even horses with strong backs and empty heads understand that some tree lines are better passed before dusk.

Recent signs are less ordinary. The trouble near the logger roads does not feel like wolves, weather, or the common cruelty of wild ground. It feels watched. It feels answered. It feels as though the woods have taken offense and found hands willing to carry that offense into the open.

Loggers whisper of unease around camp and movement where no hired guard stood. The company’s path brought them close enough to disturb whatever temper has been gathering beneath the boughs. One account speaks of a boar that was not merely a boar, another of pain striking the mind before the creature fled to warn deeper powers. The Orb keeps such details marked in red until further signs confirm them.

The name spoken by those with old knowledge is anchorite: servants of storm, fang, and woodland wrath. Whether these figures act from their own hatred, from obedience to a greater power, or from some bargain rooted in Neverwinter Wood, the effect is the same. The routes once treated as inconvenient are becoming hostile.

Beaver and Badger, the friendly and notably wind-troubled horses seen drawing the company’s cart, may know more about the way home than certain travelers. Those who can speak with beasts are advised to listen when beasts prefer a road, refuse a road, or stare too long between trees.

The dragon owns the sky, but the woods own the spaces where wings cannot reach. Phandalin must now reckon with both. A frontier can endure one great threat if it knows where to face. It grows harder when danger learns to arrive from above, behind, and beneath the leaves.