A white dragon circles the Sword Mountains. Phandalin holds its breath. Seven fools and a baby owlbear stand between them.
The bounty board grows longer each week and the roads out of town are worse than the roads in. Come to the table rested, come with a plan, and come knowing your spell slots.
Until the chronicle is written up, the only thing open here is the wager. Place yours before the session starts.
Most halls are still being built. One is open.