Sword Coast

The path winds downward into the heart of the Cloakwood Nest, where the air grows thick with a damp, earthy chill. Massive trees tower above, their branches forming a suffocating canopy that blocks out almost all light. The ground is uneven, covered in slick moss and tangled roots that threaten to trip the unwary. The scent of decay and old blood lingers, sharper now, mingling with the oppressive silence. Ahead, faint glimmers of movement catch your eye—shapes flitting through the shadows, but never fully visible. The sound of leathery wings echoes faintly, and you notice deep gouges raking across nearby tree trunks. As you step closer, the unmistakable crunch of bones beneath your boots sends a shiver up your spine. A low, guttural hiss rumbles through the air, and every nerve screams that you’ve wandered into the lair of something ancient and deadly. The forest feels alive and aware, its gaze heavy upon you. Tread carefully—this nest does not forgive intruders.

It is cleverly concealed by the dense foliage of the Cloakwood forest. The cave entrance is typically obscured by thick, overlapping curtains of spider silk that blend seamlessly with the surrounding vegetation. These silken barriers are often adorned with leaves and debris, making them nearly indistinguishable from the forest floor. The trees are ancient and towering, their trunks covered in moss and their branches forming a canopy so thick that little sunlight penetrates to the ground. A noticeable silence prevails, as if the creatures of the wood instinctively avoid this ominous place. The ground near the cave entrance is soft and appears undisturbed, but it’s actually a network of shallow tunnels just beneath the surface, ready to collapse under the weight of an unwary footstep. The natural camouflage of the nest’s exterior serves as the first line of defense, deterring intruders and protecting the secrets that lie within.