It is evening in Tarant Forest. The songs of birds are giving away to chirping of crickets. It's calm and peaceful, or so one would think, as long as you don't venture too far down the beaten old path.

The ruins of castle, the name having slipped from memory long ago, looms just over the treeline. There are a few lights, and occasionally the laugh or yell of some creature. It is the Black Tower now, home to wicked things.

From the central courtyard, once a vibrant garden now overgrown with hellebore and nettles, four hallways stretch in the cardinal directions. The north and south wings house the eldest monsters; Alderric the lich and Erdaskes the dragon, respectively.

A kobold lazes in a hammock strung between two pillars. No adventurers yet today, so he's had little to do.