The Hearthwood Defense

The scent of spiced apple crumble and roasted chestnuts fills the grand, root-vaulted halls of Hearthwood Abbey. You sit among friends and fellow woodland folk at long, polished oak tables, raising thimble-mugs of sweet dandelion wine to the harvest moon. Firelight dances off the polished hilts of your tiny swords and the brass buttons of your woolen traveling cloaks. It’s a time of peace, feasting, and boisterous songs sung by badger lords, squirrel rangers, and nimble field mice alike. Surrounded by the gentle chatter of your community, everything is warm, safe, and perfectly cozy. Suddenly, the heavy timber doors are thrown open, letting in a gust of crisp autumn wind and a scattering of dry leaves. A ragged sparrow messenger collapses onto the stone floor, clutching a silver acorn—the distress seal of the High Canopy. Panting, she speaks of a band of rogue foxes and pirate-weasels that have dammed the Whispering River, threatening to flood the lower winter burrows. The feasting stops, and all eyes turn to you and your capable companions. The abbey needs heroes, and the road ahead promises adventure, danger, and the chance to become a legend—provided you pack enough scones for the journey.

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