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Return to the Great Tree 2

After spending some time in camp following our return from the Great Tree, we were visited by Chweech and Chwong. They communicate that the Fey Eladrin have invited us back to provide further reward to us and NODE.

Recap

The party found themselves in camp together once again preparing for an expedition out into the Wildermarch.

Thalen cornered Kouzlo with a question that had clearly been fermenting.

“You’re real smart, right? …How do we know these cultists are bad? Aldric’s in a cult, right? Always praying to something. And Madam Helena… I don’t know what’s going on with her, but I know something’s not right.”

Doubt lingers longer than wounds.

Nearby, The Last Shadow reviewed his growing conspiracy board - strings, maps, patterns. He floated the idea of kidnapping a cultist next time. Interrogation. The brig of the beached ship. Organization.

Aldric was resolute. “The Eladrin owe us answers.”

He sensed injustice in their prior evasions about the Shadowfell. And Aldric Vaun does not let miscarriages of justice go unanswered.

Kouzlo briefly considered pressing Trogeth’s journal for more information before returning - but ultimately, the Tree called.

Before departure, they sought out Professor Fiddlesticks. Upon hearing of their projected venture into the Fey Wild, he reacted sharply.

“Did they give you anything else? Do anything else to you?”

Thalen cast Calm Emotions.

Fiddlesticks muttered about Fey manipulation, then hastily brewed two unstable potions - hot to the touch, fizzing dangerously.

Functionally: Protection from Evil and Good, Fey-specific. Unstable. Drink at your own risk.

Aldric carried one with him, determined to prevent a similar mental vulnerability like the volcano incident.

When the Great Tree rose into view, it was transformed.

Healthier than ever.

Deep gold etchings traced its bark.

Leaves shimmered with a radiant hue.

The once-oppressive wood surrounding it felt cleansed - the deadened Shadowfell weight entirely gone.

Thalen mapped obsessively.

Madam Helena drew the Seven - planting seeds for long-term investment.

Rowan carried unfiltered enthusiasm.

Chweech and Chwong appeared, climbing Shadow like a delighted cat tower, ushering the party within.

The interior bustled - but differently. Fewer chwinga. More settlers. A centaur hauling lumber. A fairy dragon flitting through rafters.

The portal beneath the Tree no longer bled Shadow.

It glowed.

Where darkness once churned, now lay a forest - slightly too vibrant, slightly too perfect.

Standing before it: Autumn Laurel.

He bowed deeply. “Our champions.”

He revealed something crucial.

The Great Tree is not the only anchor.

All attunable. All connected.

He claimed the Shadowfell incursion here was the first of its kind.

The party knew otherwise.

Trogeth had spoken of attempts at both Pine and Mushroom.

When Kouzlo pressed him on Shadowfell motivations, Autumn replied they sought corruption - to make the Fey Wild a mirror of desolation.

But during the explanation, Madam Helena’s Detect Thoughts skimmed the surface.

Two names surfaced.

Summer. Winter.

Tension. Not deception - but unease.

When asked about the cult and the psionic creatures on the Material Plane, Autumn faltered.

“These are mortal threats.”

He did not recognize them.

Or could not admit to it.

Chweech and Chwong carved the cult pendant’s likeness into bark and handed it to Autumn. He promised to consult his brother.

Thalen then claimed his promised prize - a lock of Autumn’s golden hair. The Eladrin sliced it free without hesitation. Thalen threaded it into his bowstring.

Rowan, barely containing childlike wonder, asked to see the other portals.

The chwinga attuned the pool first to the Mushroom.

The image shifted - towering fungal giants, vibrant and enormous, wetlands dotted with pools.

Then the Pine.

Dense forest. Snow-covered ground. Cliffs. Dim overcast skies.

Danger still exists in the Fey Wild, Autumn warned.

Outside their camps, no guarantees.

Rowan wanted to go immediately.

So they did.

The transition was not clean.

Kouzlo’s pack began to shake violently.

Trogeth’s journal writhed within.

For a moment - limbo.

Kouzlo focused. Arcane will against bound Shadar-kai.

Trogeth’s cackling turned to strained grunts as Kouzlo suppressed the interference.

Then - The party was violently expelled into a vibrant field of flowers.

Songbirds. Warm air. Radiance.

Not Shadowfell.

They were not near the Great Tree.

A rounded shape crested a distant ridge - perhaps the Mushroom.

Thalen’s compasses spun uselessly. He panicked briefly before Shadow steadied him.

Madam Helena and Kouzlo, peering into the satchel to inspect the book -

Collapsed.

Spores drifted beneath them.

A dart whistled past Rowan’s ear.

Giggles echoed everywhere.

Mushrooms sprouted and burst, releasing clouds of sparkling dust.

Shadow felt prickling confusion stab into the back of his neck.

Invisible laughter.

Pixies revealed themselves - tiny bows, blow darts, exaggerated mockery.

One was caught in Thalen’s Entangle. Suddenly something pounced from the grass and devoured it.

The pixies vanished. Chaos erupted in the valley.

Three six-legged panthers emerged from shifting air - teeth bared, tentacles writhing.

Displacer Beasts.

They shimmered. Images doubled. Reality refused to hold still around them.

Thalen was struck first - arrows quickly stripping the illusion from one beast.

Rowan’s shots cut through air that wasn’t where it appeared.

Shadow battled through confusion, fists landing in blessed rhythm.

Madam Helena called divine tolls and conjured spectral weapons.

Aldric invoked Vow of Enmity, Brine Justice flashing with smite-born fury.

Kouzlo’s meteors streaked through the glade, Thunderwave blasting one backward.

Luminor trampled another prone in Fey-form glory.

One beast fell beneath Aldric’s blade.

The remaining two, bloodied and howling, shimmered violently and teleported into the woods.

Silence returned. Then cheering.

Pixies reappeared, celebrating the party as if this had been sport.

Aldric turned.

One hovered inches from his face.

Session ended. No long rest forthcoming.

Key Takeaways

Loot & Rewards

Active Threads

To Be Continued.