Introduction The Time of Troubles & Era of Upheaval Inspired By Ed Greenwood

The wind howls through Jundar’s Pass with a predatory edge, whistling between the jagged granite teeth of the Dessarin Hills. As you and your companions make your way through Jundar's Pass, the vast Dessarin Valley unfolds before you—a patchwork of golden grasslands and deep, shadowed ravines. The air here tastes of ozone and wild sage, carrying the distant scent of the Dessarin River as it churns toward the sea.

To the south, the Sumber Hills rise like the spine of a buried beast, their slopes cloaked in a violet haze. Beneath those peaks lies your destination: the ghost-haunted ruins of Zenopus’s Tower. Legends told over campfires in Waterdeep claim the wizard’s laboratory was consumed by emerald fire decades ago, leaving behind a shattered shell that still pulses with a faint, malevolent light when the moon is thin.

The journey is far from peaceful. As you navigate the winding trail toward Dead Horse Ford, you pass the bleached ribcages of livestock—grim monuments to the Hill Giants that descend from the heights to pillage the valley floor.

Every shift in the tall grass or rustle of the scrub brush feels like a hidden eye watching your progress, a reminder that the "Long Road" is often a lonely one for those without steel in their hands.

By dusk of the third day, the flickering hearth-fires of Beliard will appear on the horizon, but first, you must finish your journey through this harsh region. The crossroads village of Beliard is a cluster of buildings and sturdy corrals, serves as the last bastion of civilization before the wilderness swallows the path whole. At the Watchful Knight Inn, the atmosphere is said to be grim; travelers speak in hushed tones of missing delegations and strange cults rising in the very hills you intend to enter.

Your goal lies just beyond the village outskirts: a weathered track leading into the heart of the Sumber Hills. There, the tower of Zenopus sits atop a cliffside, its stones blackened by ancient magic. Though the upper floors were long ago leveled by catapult fire to silence the wailing spirits within, the locals swear that the dungeons beneath remain intact, housing artifacts that defy imagination.

As you tighten your packs and check your blades, the weight of the valley’s history settles upon you. You are no longer mere travelers; you are intruders in a land of sleeping giants and buried gods. The road to the Tower of Zenopus is paved with the bones of those who underestimated this land, and the shadows of the hills are growing longer with every passing hour.