Penna’s Grave stands in a hollow by the trail. Fresh cut flowers often appear on the low burial mound, no matter the weather. Folklore tells of a silent, grey-hooded figure seen kneeling at the grave. Recently, an apple tree has sprouted from the mound.

Hideaway Mine stands beyond a huddle of ivy-clad stone buildings. This abandoned old tin mine is haunted, locals say. Bandits sometimes use it as a lair, but seldom stay long. The mine’s flood-prone deeper galleries intersect with a subterranean lake.

El’s Mere was once a shallow, marshy lake. El’s Mere Way skirts the site. Local tradition has it that a young man, El, drowned while swimming in the lake. His ghost appears on the anniversary of his death to moan of his fate to any he encounters.

Cutt Quarry has been almost abandoned for decades. The mad introvert Kildork Cutt (NE male dwarf) dwells therein. The madman carves elaborate, disturbing sculptures into the cliffs, for an unknown purpose. Sometimes, people disappear near the quarry.

Crumblestone Castle is cursed. Abandoned after its occupants sickened and died, it is a shunned place. Now even the place’s walls and towers have a leprous aspect as stone flakes away from the structure. Rank, noxious weeds fill the ruin.

Bone Mill stands by a river flowing through an old battlefield. Sometimes, bones washed out of ancient burials foul the mill’s mechanism. Sometimes these remains awaken from their long slumber, and undead beset the mill.

Wiomet’s Tower juts skyward from atop a bluebell-cloaked hill. Dense stands of hawthorn surround and fill the decaying tower’s sunken ha ha. Built for an exiled widow, the ruin is a gloomy place despite its idyllic surrounds.

Warren Lodge—devastated by fire long ago—stands stark atop a grassy bank a half-mile from the road. Only crumbling walls and a fast-filling cellar remain of the grand house. Many rabbits dwell in the surrounds; here, hunting is good.

The Wishing Tree throws its vast crown over a busy crossroads. This elder oak is a shrine to Behron, god of travel, and many weary folk rest in its shade. A hoard of coins—offerings for a safe journey—stud the tree’s glimmering trunk.

The Mason’s Arms stands near Tumblestone Quarry. Walled apple orchards surround this popular traveller’s inn, which is famed for its rough, dry cider. Vast murmurations of starlings swoop and wheel over the inn, at sunset during the winter.

Hierophant’s Path winds along a steep, wooded ridge overlooking the road. Local legend has it the adherents of an elder nature cult wore the path which ends on a craggy bluff. A singular monolith of rough hewn stone stands atop the bluff.

Dunstan’s Hall offers a warm fire and cheery welcome amid the ruin of an old church. Dunstan uses the church’s crypts for storage, and a crumbling wall and graveyard surround the inn. Rumours (inevitably) tell of hauntings, lost treasure and more.