Located exactly a day’s journey east of Bree, the Forsaken Inn stands as a hollow shell of its former self, marking the final boundary where the last traces of civilization dissolve into the true wilderness. Once a vital refuge for travelers along the Great East Road, the structure is now characterized by its decaying stone walls and a severely neglected roof that offers little protection against the biting winds of the moors. Its name serves as a literal testament to its state; it has been deserted for decades, a victim of the growing desolation and the creeping shadows that have reclaimed the lands between Bree and the Midgewater Marshes.
Though its hearths have long since gone cold and its taproom is silent, the inn remains a significant landmark for the few who still walk the road, such as the DĂșnedain Rangers who occasionally use its ruins for shelter or to leave hidden messages. The interior is a labyrinth of rot and shadows, where the wind whistles through empty windows and the spirits of the past seem to linger in the stillness. While legends of its active days persist among the elders of Bree, the modern reality is one of absolute isolation; beyond its broken threshold, the road has not been officially measured in miles for generations, leaving the inn to rot as a grim monument to a safer, forgotten era.

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