In the elder days, before the Halls of Stonehelm crumbled, there was a ford through the black waters of the River Umbral, carved by dwarven masons as a trade path. The Gate was strong and sure by day, but when the sun sank behind the mountain, the stones moaned and cold mists rose. Miners and traders vanished, their footsteps echoing long after their bodies were gone.

The dwarves whispered that it was the doing of the Grey Host—ancestors who had been denied the fires of the Forge Eternal. Instead of resting in the deep halls of their fathers, they wandered, bound by grief, war, or treachery.

To protect their kin, the dwarves abandoned the ford, locking away its maps and sealing its gates. But stone remembers, and so too do spirits. On stormy nights, dwarves working the old tunnels say they hear the tolling of a bell with no tower, and see ghostly lanterns swinging in airless halls. The name remains: Specter’s Gate.

The Lantern Bearer: A dwarf-shade with a miner’s lantern, face hidden behind a cracked helm. He points the way through the tunnels… but some who follow are never seen again.

The Tolling Bell: Forged of mithril, shattered in the fall of Stonehelm, it rings still in the dark, its sound carrying no matter how deep the tunnels go. Those who hear it often do not live to tell the tale.

The Whispering Ford: Beneath the stone, a flooded cavern runs with black waters. On moonless nights, the river speaks with the voices of drowned miners and lost warriors. To answer it is to risk joining them.