Rabbit hole, thy name is this post.
I took a look, and while it's a mixed bag, tbh none of them, even those that turn out to be really bad adventures, open with a piece of read-aloud text that is as bad as this one.
Apart from the general tin ear awkwardness of the writing, it reads like it's pitched at an 8-year-old level, while most of these feel like ages 12 & up:
Lost Mine of Phandelver
"In the city of Neverwinter, a dwarf named Gundren Rockseeker asked you to bring a wagonload of provisions to the rough-and-tumble settlement of Phandalin, a couple of days’ travel southeast of the city. Gundren was clearly excited and more than a little secretive about his reasons for the trip, saying only that he and his brothers had found “something big,” and that he’d pay you ten gold pieces each for escorting his supplies safely to Barthen’s Provisions, a trading post in Phandalin. He then set out ahead of you on horse, along with a warrior escort named Sildar Hallwinter, claiming he needed to arrive early to “take care of business.”"
Tyranny of Dragons
"For the past several days, you have been traveling a road that winds lazily across the rolling grasslands of the Greenfields. Sundown is approaching when you top a rise and see the town of Greenest just a few short miles away. But instead of the pleasant, welcoming town you expected, you see columns of black smoke rising from burning buildings, running figures that are little more than dots at this distance, and a dark, winged shape wheeling low over the keep that rises above the center of the town. Greenest is being attacked by a dragon!"
Princes of the Apocalypse
"Red Larch is a town on the Long Road, a few days’ travel north of Waterdeep and a few days’ travel south of Triboar. It’s a way stop for caravans coming to or from the cities of the North, with an inn named the Swinging Sword, a tavern called the Helm at Highsun, and many craftspeople who cater to travelers."
Out of the Abyss
"Captured by the drow! You wouldn’t wish this fate upon anyone, yet here you are — locked in a dark cave, the cold, heavy weight of metal tight around your throat and wrists. You are not alone. Other prisoners are trapped in here with you, in an underground outpost far from the light of the sun. Your captors include a cruel drow priestess who calls herself Mistress Ilvara of House Mizzrym. Over the past several days, you’ve met her several times, robed in silken garments and flanked by two male drow, one of whom has a mass of scars along one side of his face and neck. Mistress Ilvara likes to impress her will with scourge in hand and remind you that your life now belongs to her. “Accept your fate, learn to obey, and you may survive.” Her words echo in your memory, even as you plot your escape."
Curse of Strahd
"To a party of seasoned adventurers such as yourselves, what you see is but another dull tavern in another dull town in some nameless province. It is but another span of time between the challenges of true adventuring. Outside the tavern, a fog lies over the town this evening. The damp, cobbled pavement glistens as the lights of street lanterns dance across the slick stones. The fog chills the bones and shivers the soul of anyone outside. Yet inside these tavern walls the food is hearty, and the ale is warm and frothy. A fire blazes in the hearth, and the tavern is alive with the tumbling voices of country folk. Suddenly, the tavern door swings open, and a hush falls over the room...."
Storm King's Thunder
"After following the trail for ten miles, you hear the ringing of a bell. The sound grows louder as Nightstone comes into view. A river flows around the settlement, forming a moat. The village itself is contained within a wooden palisade, beyond which you see a windmill, a tall steeple, and the high-pitched rooftops of several other buildings. Apart from the ringing of the bell, you detect no other activity in the village. The trail ends before a lowered drawbridge that spans the moat. Beyond the drawbridge, two stone watchtowers flank an open gap in the palisade."
Tomb of Annihilation
"For the past several days, the talk of the streets and taverns has all been about the so-called death curse: a wasting disease afflicting everyone who’s ever been raised from the dead. Victims grow thinner and weaker each day, slowly but steadily sliding toward the death they once denied. When they finally succumb, they can’t be raised — and neither can anyone else, regardless of whether they’ve ever received that miracle in the past. Temples and scholars of divine magic are at a loss to explain a curse that has affected the entire region, and possibly the entire world."
Waterdeep: Dragon Heist
"You sit around a sturdy wooden table lit by a brightly burning candle and littered with plates cleared of food and half-drained tankards. The sounds of gamblers yelling and drunken adventurers singing bawdy songs nearly drown out the off-key strumming of a young bard three tables over. Then all the noise is eclipsed by a shout: “Ya pig! Like killin’ me mates, does ya?” Then a seven-foot-tall half-orc is hit by a wild, swinging punch from a male human whose shaved head is covered with eye-shaped tattoos. Four other humans stand behind him, ready to jump into the fray. The half-orc cracks her knuckles, roars, and leaps at the tattooed figure — but before you can see if blood is drawn, a crowd of spectators clusters around the brawl. What do you do?"
Dragon of Icespire Peak
"Nestled in the rocky foothills of the snow-capped Sword Mountains is the mining town of Phandalin, which consists of forty or fifty simple log buildings. Crumbling stone ruins surround the newer houses and shops, showing how this must have been a much larger town in centuries past. Phandalin’s residents are quiet, hard-working folk who came from distant cities to eke out a life amid the harsh wilderness."
Baldur's Gate: Descent into Avernus
"Welcome to Baldur’s Gate, a veritable nest of rats and vipers clinging to the rocky slopes overlooking the Chionthar River. From their high perches in the Upper City, the local nobles — known as patriars — gaze down with veiled contempt upon the common rabble in the grimy Lower City, which hugs the foggy harbor. The whole of Baldur’s Gate reeks of blood, crime, and opportunity. One can easily fathom why pirates and traders are drawn to this place like flies to a carcass."
Icewind Dale: Rime of the Frostmaiden
"Icewind Dale has become trapped in a perpetual winter. Ferocious blizzards make the mountain pass through the Spine of the World exceedingly treacherous, and this land has not felt the warmth of the sun in over two years. In fact, the sun no longer appears above the mountains, not even in what should be the height of summer. In this frozen tundra, darkness and bitter cold reign as king and queen. Most dale residents blame Auril the Frostmaiden, the god of winter’s wrath. The shimmering aurora that weaves across the sky each night is said to be her doing—a potent spell that keeps the sun at bay."
Strixhaven: Curriculum of Chaos
"Majestic marble archways, tomes seemingly stacked for miles, and the infectious energy of hundreds of young adults fill the Biblioplex, the grand library at the heart of Strixhaven University. The sights, sounds, and sparks of magic in the air are wondrous. Your acceptance letter stated that you must report to the Biblioplex’s Hall of Oracles to receive instructions on new-student orientation. The hall sits at the center of the Biblioplex’s first floor, and you can already see students gathering there."
The Wild Beyond the Witchlight
"The first stars of night twinkle above the apricot sunset. Giant dragonflies whir overhead, trailing streamers, and a low mist curls over the ground. Through a floral archway, you glimpse wondrous and vibrant creatures—elf stilt walkers, dancing faeries, and painted performers. Everywhere there is laughter, pixie dust, bubbles, and the wistful tune of a whistling calliope."
Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
"Your journey was uneventful, but the island now visible off the bow promises rare wonders. Seaweed shimmers in countless brilliant colors below you, and rays of sunlight defy the overcast sky to illuminate the lush grass and dark basalt rock of the island. Avoiding the rocks jutting up from the ocean, your ship makes its way toward a calm harbor on the island’s north side."
Critical Role: Call of the Netherdeep
"You have entered the Jumble, a large district of tangled roads and single-story buildings in the town of Jigow. Throngs of people, most of them orcs and goblins, move through the streets, laughing, singing, running, and sightseeing. All are enthralled by the raucous sights and sounds of the town’s Festival of Merit."
Spelljammer: Light of Xaryxis
"Your adventures have taken you to a coastal community, where local fishing boats share the harbor with trade vessels from far and wide. Lately everyone has been discussing the deluge of falling stars that has lit up the evening sky for the past several nights. Some say these celestial events are omens of impending disaster. Others believe they are a precursor to the gods descending from the heavens to walk the land. No one knows for sure."
Dragonlance: Shadow of the Dragon Queen
"You stand at the center of a forest clearing. Clashing steel echoes from the thicket beyond. As you look around, you realize piles of bodies cover the ground. One of the fallen clutches something against their chest. You’re not sure what it is, but you feel the urge to reach for it. Before you can, the object glows and then flashes with intense light."
Planescape: Turn of Fortune's Wheel
"You awaken on a metal examination table in a dim, windowless stone chamber. The air is cold and stale, tinged with the acrid sting of formaldehyde emanating from a nearby shelf of clouded flasks and antiseptic jars. Dried blood stains the drab, mosaicked floor and the edges of your table, and pained moans haunt the halls beyond the stuffy room. A human skull floats nearby. It bobs impatiently, watching you with slate-gray eyes that remain in its lidless sockets. The skull notices you’re awake and greets you with a nasal voice. “Hey, Chief!”
