A ruined fortress stands in the middle of the clearing, its once-proud walls now draped in ivy and moss. Crumbling towers that used to dominate over the treetops now slightly rise above the trees and claw at the sky like broken fingers. A great stone archway, weather by time and erosion, still marks the entrance, though its iron gate has long since rusted away. There are only fragments of what his castle once was, and what it stood for. Fades crests carved into the worn stone are indescribable and stained-glass windows are shattered. Nature has reclaimed the castle, with roots winding through cracked stones and small animals making homes in what was once a grand courtyard. Small camps surround the castle and there are green-cloaked rangers everywhere.