The Rotting Manor: a 5e One-Shot

Through one way or another, you all find yourselves in a place you did not choose.

An abandoned manor stands in the forest, encircled by ancient wicker wards. Last night, or perhaps tonight, you were chased here. Whatever hunted you drove you past reason, past fear, into the only shelter you could find.

The forest beyond the wards was meant to be your casket.

Smoke hangs in the air as the wicker protections begin to burn away. The wards crackle, weaken, and turn to ash. Whatever kept the forest at bay is failing.

You hear words whispered from below.