Rumors of strange occurrences bought you to the Hillsfar region. The vague and bizarre rumors ranged from Leprechauns showering travelers with gold, to undead armies terrorizing the many farmsteads.
The one rumor that turned out to be true was perhaps the wildest of all. All the non-human citizens within the walls of the city-state of Hillsfar were evicted. The only non-humans left in the city are the slaves who fight at the Arena. Fights to the death. Anyone not obviously human is turned away at the Hillsfar Gate, the only way into and out of the great walled city.
You travel north on the Moonsea Ride, the often-used merchant road south of Hillsfar, which also navigates through the expansive Cormanthor Forest. Other adventurers have been drawn to the city, traveling with you or nearby.
A muffled shout bursts from the trees off the road, and an old human man wearing torn and bloody clothes staggers into view. The blood on his clothes comes from small cuts and scratches, not any particularly large wounds. His charge toward you is slow, ponderous, and shaky. Before you can even draw weapons or ready spells, he collapses in the grass. He still shouts, however, although the words grow fainter and fainter with each passing moment. As the man died at your feet, something about his words struck a chord. They seemed more prophecy than prattle. After some investigation, you learned that the madman's words corresponded to five locations in the Hillsfar area. Certainly it can't hurt to investigate… or could it?