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The Feywild

A journey through just space right?

Thaaradan?, 23rd of Blauhn?, year 200 of Ilias?

Eventually everyone awakes, under the same colour sky. Anya feels like it’s been weeks and downs several rations as her body starts telling her just how many times she got hit by a dragon. Looking around, they all see they are in a small glade on top of a mountain, not a dissimilar height of the seat of the dragon. But the ground isn’t burnt with lava and ash, it appears gentle and green.
Wait but that’s the same bit of time again.

As the party gathers their bearings in this new unfamiliar-yet-familiar landscape, a dryad steps out of a tree of the grove. Introducing herself as Inula, she asks the party to track down the creature that imprisoned her in this form, a hag from a far off part of the Feywild. In return for eliminating the one that imprisoned her, Inula promises to help transport the party away, back to the plane they came from.
Promise in hand, the party set off and immediately get turned around. Whenever the sky is not perfectly in view, even when it just ducks behind a tree branch or if everyone blinks at the same time, they wander off course.

Aranar begins to navigate by the stars, and good progress starts to be made, until they reach the forest that is. With a combination of a steady mind and excellent climbing, Anya repeatedly climbs up trees to scout and re-scout the correct direction to head in. A set of floating lights in the distance halt the party’s progress for some time, almost trying to lure them deeper into the forest.
A hand on Thryn’s shoulder, Aranar steers everyone away from whoever could be carrying those lanterns in the dark forest.

Emerging out of the forest, the team is greeted to a large grassland. There is nothing blocking their sight to the sky, and while none of them are sure for how many hours they have travelled, the sky appears barely any darker. The storm above the swamplands the hag is said to live is closer now.

Getting some sleep after an unknown amount of time walking, all three members get a different amount of sleep before being fully rested, Aranar sleeping long after Thryn and Anya awake.

Getting closer to the swamp now, the party begin to stealth, Anya casting pass without trace for everyone to move silently throughout the difficult terrain, before long they spot a hut on stilts standing over the marshy water.

Aranar and Thryn go up to knock on the door as Anya waits in the wings, ready to step through the large amounts of shadow cast by all the trees and the structure. After a brief exchange, the door opens to Aranar and Anya, without a figure behind it. Lingering shortly in the doorway before stepping in, the door slams shut behind them, and they hear a small cackle on the other side of the central cauldron “Tasty mortals”.

After shrugging off her invisibility, the hag attempts to latch onto Thryn and rip them into pieces, not accounting for a monk kickflipping out of the shadows and a follow-up fireball. The Harpies that dive from the sky are dispatched with almost the same efficiency.

All returning the way they came, Thryn goes to investigate the lights before running headlong into quicksand and getting zapped by what are now clearly not lights from lanterns, but balls of floating light with a mind of their own.
A bit more electrocuted than when they started, the party return to Inula and tell her of the hag Ferula’s demise.
Thankful, the Dryad ushers the party around a tree in the grove, and with all the drama of stepping over the root of a tree, the smell of sulphur and heat hits the party, returned to the material plane, but different in ways.

This and more, with Thryn trying to cut some bits out is related to Aranar over the next few days, as his memories didn’t make it out of the Feywild with him.