The cave entrance on the surface wards away intruders with the heads of men who dared challenge the coven of witches that dwell below. If the heads aren’t enough to dissuade casual visitors, the Glyph of Warding just underneath them might.
The entrance tunnel opens up into a large cavern with a babbling stream running through it. A stone bridge allows crossing, though the water isn’t really deep enough to be an effective barrier.
On the left is a windowless tower with a conical top, but a hidden door grants access. The obvious door in the center is trapped to seal when whoever opened it reaches the room on the other side. This leaves the unfortunate person in an empty courtyard, devoid of cover and surrounded by arrow slits 30′ up. Skeleton archers usually man the guard posts. A hidden exit leads to the last exterior feature, an octagonal platform with an elaborate ritual circle in its center.
Otherwise, there are small cells where the witches sleep, a small (but disorganized) library, and a temple to their bloody, goat-headed god. Only the witches’ matriarch, a swamp hag, has access to the males she keeps captive next to her rotten quarters.
“The sound of rushing water was reflected by the sound of shifting gravel as the party half-slid down the steep tunnel. Their thief had gone ahead to scout, but didn’t return after several hours. Assuming the worst, they headed down anyway to find him.
The tunnel opened up onto a high ledge in a huge cave, poorly lit by cracks in the ceiling and a brazier glowing next to a large wooden door in a cobblestone fort. Water flowed, fast and loud through the middle of the cave. The water flung itself from a stony waterfall into darkness and the sound drowned out all else. However, the elf spotted the thief’s head above the lip of a platform embedded in the fort’s walls. Oddly, the halfling thief just stood there on the edge staring at nothing.
The Elf was about to shout to the halfling, but another figure slid from the darkness behind him. She had long, lank hair and a crone’s face. Standing behind the entranced halfling, she stroked his short hair, shot a hateful look at the party and drove her long, taloned fingers through the back of his neck.
As we rushed down the ledge, the hag pushed the halfling’s body off to thud wetly on the stone below. A bloody aura of black magic surrounded the hag and the sickening light it gave off slid behind her as she slowly moved back the way she came. The party collected themselves at the fort’s door and swore they wouldn’t rest until they had revenge for the murder of their comrade.”