Faerie: A Realm Wanderer's Guide | Feudal Fey Expansion for 5e!

Faerie: A Realm Wanderer's Guide | Feudal Fey Expansion for 5e!

by The Dragons Vault

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The Dragons Vault
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4 months ago

Project Update: πŸ”΄ ENDED | Choose thy Adventure - 10. WILLOW VS THE HAG

πŸ”΄ This post was being updated live as we progressed through the battle between Willow and the Hag.

  1. CHALLENGE 1 COMPLETE
  2. CHALLENGE 2 COMPLETE
  3. CHALLENGE 3 COMPLETE
  4. CHALLENGE 4 COMPLETE
  5. FINAL CHALLENGE COMPLETE
β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”

Hail & well met Wanderers,

Here we now stand, at the end of all things. Our journey has been long, the path ever winding, but thy choices have lead us here to our final moments. Guided by your most favoured choice, as proffered by wanderer Tori, Willow shall take her time to wisely seek out the assistance of an ally…

β€œChannelling your magic through the embers before you, the smoke twists into a form most becoming of a witches familiar; A large cat, with long pointed ears and eyes that look as if beyond lied pools of the deepest emerald green. A Grimalkin pads forward into the space, uninterested in the strange flora that abounds here, and instead moves to curl around your waist. It shall need a name, perhaps the fates will have a suggestion? Regardless you do not delay, and scoop the cat quickly to hold before you. You instruct the Grimalkin to step between the veil, and seek out the Knight of Autumn whose favour you carry. The Grimalkin nods, and as quickly as it appeared, is once more gone. But only moments later, a chill runs down your spine, and a sickly laugh cackles through the halls of the hollow keep.

You turn, looking for its source, and see a hunched figure emerge, held aloft by tentacle like roots, from a crumbled tower. It lingers for a moment, just as the morning sun begins to bathe the putrid stonework in a warm glow. But you have prepared, and took time to call for aid. You need not to defeat her, but merely survive her until reinforcement can arrive to help you deal the final blow. A sickening voice then spills forth from the creature, dripping in so much malice that even hearing its sound makes you momentarily unsure if you’ll ever feel hopeful again:

β€œπ•Ώπ–π–Š π–œπ–π–Žπ–˜π–•π–Šπ–—π–˜ 𝖔𝖓 π–™π–π–Š π–œπ–Žπ–“π–‰ π–˜π–•π–”π–π–Š 𝖔𝖋 π–™π–π–ž π–†π–•π–•π–—π–”π–†π–ˆπ– π–˜π–’π–†π–‘π–‘ π–™π–π–Žπ–“π–Œ, 𝕴 π–π–†π–›π–Š π–˜π–” π–Šπ–π–ˆπ–Žπ–™π–Šπ–‰π–‘π–ž π–†π–œπ–†π–Žπ–™π–Šπ–‰ π–™π–π–ž π–†π–—π–—π–Žπ–›π–†π–‘. π–‚π–”π–“π–‰π–Šπ–—π–‹π–šπ–‘ π–π–†π–›π–Š π–’π–ž π–‰π–—π–Šπ–†π–’π–˜ π–‡π–Šπ–Šπ–“, π–‹π–Žπ–‘π–‘π–Šπ–‰ π–œπ–Žπ–™π– π–œπ–†π–žπ–˜ 𝕴 π–’π–Žπ–Œπ–π–™ π–‡π–Šπ–˜π–™ π–‰π–Šπ–›π–”π–šπ–— π–™π–π–ž π–›π–Šπ–—π–ž π–˜π–”π–šπ–‘. π–„π–”π–š π–’π–šπ–˜π–™ π–—π–Šπ–†π–‘π–Žπ–˜π–Š π–žπ–”π–š π–†π–—π–Š π–‘π–”π–˜π–™ π–˜π–’π–†π–‘π–‘ π–™π–π–Žπ–“π–Œ, π–žπ–”π–š π–π–†π–›π–Š π–œπ–”π–“π–‰π–Šπ–—π–Šπ–‰ π–‡π–Šπ–žπ–”π–“π–‰ 𝖆𝖑𝖑 π–‡π–”π–—π–‰π–Šπ–—π–˜ 𝖆𝖓𝖉 π–‘π–†π–“π–‰π–˜, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 π–“π–”π–œ π–žπ–”π–šπ–— π–›π–Šπ–—π–ž π–Šπ–π–Žπ–˜π–™π–Šπ–“π–ˆπ–Š π–Žπ–˜ π–‹π–”π–—π–‹π–Šπ–Ž-β€œ

You steel yourself, and the feather of the MorrΓ­gna thrums warmly in your hat and your heart. You are not frightened. You are not lost. You are Willow, witch of the elder ways, and you will shall not falter where others have fallen.

Before the hag can prattle any longer you take your chance, rushing forward you begin to weave spellcraft between your fingers. You will strike fast with your most powerful spell yet, before she finishes her self-indulgent monologue!”

As the battle rages on, this post will change and update live with the action. New polls will emerge, and new challenges thou must complete in order to empower Willow to victory! Thou must succeed in 5 challenges in order to defeat Nanny Rutt for good, but be swift, each challenge will only remain for mere hours…

β€œYou search for the sigils, the runes of old, and then like a sudden breeze on a chill morn you feel their arrival upon the crest of your minds eye. The fates have delivered unto you the necessary symbols, which you weave with your hands before loosing cursed shackles upon the descending hag.

The horrifying creature is taken by surprise, her lingering platitudes cut short as chains of hex weave amidst her rotten limbs. The crone screeches, appalled, as you dash to hug the crumbled wall of the outer courtyard. The spell bought you enough time to reach cover, though you hear the nightmarish beast dismantling your magic link by link, her choking outrage begins to twist into putrid laughter more with each broken chain.

β€œπ•΄π–™ π–˜π–Šπ–Šπ–’π–˜, π–˜π–’π–†π–‘π–‘ π–™π–π–Žπ–“π–Œ, 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 π–™π–π–”π–š π–™π–π–Žπ–“π–π–Šπ–˜π–™ π–™π–π–žπ–˜π–Šπ–‘π–‹ π–’π–†π–˜π–™π–Šπ–— 𝖔𝖋 π–™π–π–Š π–Šπ–‘π–‰π–Šπ–—? π•±π–”π–‘π–‘π–ž, 𝖕𝖔𝖔𝖗 π–‡π–”π–“π–Šπ–˜, π…πŽπŽπ‹πˆπ’π‡ππ„π’π’! 𝕴 π–œπ–†π–˜ π–™π–π–Šπ–—π–Š π–œπ–π–Šπ–“ π–™π–π–Š π–œπ–Žπ–“π–‰ π–‹π–Žπ–—π–˜π–™ π–‰π–—π–Šπ–œ π–‡π–—π–Šπ–†π–™π–, 𝕴 π–˜π–™π–Žπ–‘π–‘ π–—π–Šπ–’π–Šπ–’π–‡π–Šπ–— π–™π–π–Š π–“π–†π–’π–Šπ–˜ π–™π–π–Š π–™π–—π–Šπ–Šπ–˜ π–ˆπ–π–”π–˜π–Š 𝖋𝖔𝖗 π–™π–π–Šπ–’π–˜π–Šπ–‘π–›π–Šπ–˜, π–œπ–π–Šπ–“ π–‰π–—π–Šπ–†π–’π–˜ π–œπ–Šπ–—π–Š π–’π–”π–—π–Š π–—π–Šπ–†π–‘ 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖓 π–žπ–”π–š 𝖔𝖗 𝕴. 𝕴 π–ˆπ–”π–šπ–‘π–‰ π–Šπ–“π–‰ π–™π–π–”π–š π–œπ–Žπ–™π– π–‡π–šπ–™ 𝖆 π–—π–Žπ–‰π–‰π–‘π–Š, π–šπ–“π–—π–†π–›π–Šπ–‘ π–™π–π–ž π–‡π–Šπ–Žπ–“π–Œ π–‘π–Žπ–π–Š π–žπ–†π–—π–“ 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 π–˜π–•π–”π–”π–‘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕴 π–˜π–π–†π–‘π–‘ 𝖉𝖔 π–π–šπ–˜π–™ 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙”

Then all grows silent, you peek around the wall only to meet with the endless eyes of foul Nanny Rutt mere feet away. The smell of bog and death floods your senses as she opens her rotten mouth and speaks softly words that shake the earth, derisively simple yet steeped in power:Β 

Eager to feel, easy to break
Mine sitteth cold, like frozen lake
The foolish yearn to give theirs away,
Yet forever trapped within I stay

So tell me, witch, if thou art wise:
What breaks within while another’s dies?

You still for a moment as time slows, the hags words echo in your mind and darkness encroaches at the edges of your vision. Your heartbeat thuds in your chest, yet with each beat you feel strength fill you. The Hag’s folly was forgetting that those who’s hearts beat strong are not so easily taken, and so you respond in kind:

Tis an error dear nanny, that thy cannot feel,
For then you’d know what breaks mayest heal
And though it breaks when they depart
Forever they may live, within π“π‡π˜ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

The hags words are scattered like shells on broken wave, her magic unwound and power diminished. You take the chance afforded by her stupor to entangle her in thorn and bramble, but they will not hold for long. Your mind wanders to your Grimalkin, Treacle, and how much longer until she is able to rally thy Autumn ally…

The eye of the fates is wrenched from this harrowing battle back through elder forest, until it happens upon a witches feline familiar meandering across root and leaf with the paradoxical casual-urgency that only a cat may muster.

Finally the fates are able to usher the Grimlakin to its destination, and you feel a resonance radiate from beyond the veil and back unto you. Treacle appears once more at your feet, purring intently as you wipe blood from your mouth and pull yourself from a heap. The hag is growing more desperate, and in that desperation, more violent. You won’t last much longer without aid, but only a moment after Treacle appears, you feel something else. The wind picks up, a cool autumn breeze blows through the stale air of this forgotten keep. Not idly do the winds of autumn reach such places.

The hag rises from the writhing mass of thorns ahead of you, and points a curled finger of gnarled bone and bark toward your heart. Her voice crawls into your ear, like insects burrowing into a fallen tree.

β€œπ–‚π–π–” π–œπ–Žπ–‘π–‘ π–˜π–•π–Šπ–†π– 𝖔𝖋 π–™π–π–Žπ–“π–Š π–‰π–Šπ–Šπ–‰π–˜ π–œπ–π–Šπ–“ π–™π–π–”π–š π–Žπ–˜ π–‰π–Šπ–†π–‰ 𝖆𝖓𝖉 π–Œπ–”π–“π–Š? 𝖂𝖍𝖔 π–˜π–π–†π–‘π–‘ π–—π–Šπ–’π–Šπ–’π–‡π–Šπ–— π–™π–π–Š π–ˆπ–”π–‘π–”π–šπ–— 𝖔𝖋 π–™π–π–Žπ–“π–Š π–Šπ–žπ–Šπ–˜ 𝖔𝖗 π–™π–π–Š π–™π–Šπ–’π–•π–Šπ–— 𝖔𝖋 π–™π–π–Žπ–“π–Š π–›π–”π–Žπ–ˆπ–Š? 𝕬𝖑𝖑 π–˜π–π–†π–‘π–‘ π–‹π–”π–—π–Œπ–Šπ–™ π–žπ–”π–š 𝖕𝖔𝖔𝖗 π–‡π–”π–“π–Šπ–˜, π–žπ–”π–š π–˜π–π–†π–‘π–‘ π–‡π–Š π–‡π–šπ–—π–Žπ–Šπ–‰ π–šπ–“π–’π–†π–—π–π–Šπ–‰ 𝖆𝖓𝖉 π–—π–”π–™π–™π–Šπ–“ π–Žπ–“ 𝖇𝖔𝖙𝖍 π–’π–Šπ–’π–”π–—π–ž 𝖆𝖓𝖉 π–‡π–”π–‰π–žβ€

Looking to her, the comforting wind at your back, you speak the words

β€œHouse Autumn Always Remembers” 


In a crack of thunder and rush of leaves a form charges through a crumbling wall of the keep, clad in armour and bellowing a mighty song the Knight of Autumn bears down upon this elder crone with furious wrath and righteous condemnation. The hag flings spell and lashes with claws as the unrelenting brute tackles her through the lower foundations of a tower which wobbles like a drunkard before shadowing the ground beneath you, heralding its imminent collapse. You charge forward between tumbling rock and broken root, joining your companion in the fight as you make swift his weapon and make nimble his footwork.

Surely you have her now, but then again, no beast is more dangerous than a cornered one. You are barely able to move out of the way of the armoured mass catapulted out of the crumbled tower straight toward you. The Knight of Autumn is sent tumbling into the broken earth, wounded but not out. Emerging from the dust the hags face pears toward you and you alone, a look of mad desperation in her eyes and drool dripping from her crooked scowl. With her dwindling power the Hag then leaps forwards with primal ferocity, a clawed finger extending toward your chest as vile magic spills forth and envelops you. This is the last act of a doomed creature, but she may yet still take you with her into death. The Knight of Autumn rises quickly to stand with you, he will gladly share in your victory or venture into death at your side…

The air thickens as dark magic pours from the hag and overwhelms you, you plant your feet but feel yourself beginning to falter as waves of pure malice break against you like an unrelenting tide. Is this how you end? To come so far, only to be swallowed up in the dying act of a a creature so foul?

Then, you hear voices, voices that extend from beyond the veil. The fates speak to you, they will you onward, fill you with strength. You feel their support made manifest, elder magic courses from beyond through your beating heart. You remember your journey, where you began and where you went, each step guided by the fates themselves. In this final moment, having been by your side since this story began, they do not let you down.

The DC to resist this magic was a 25, and so the fates roll your die one final time.

NATURAL TWENTY!!!

In a startling twist of destiny not only are you able to shrug off the plumes of hatred as they attempt to enthral you, but you are able to instead direct them downward to diffuse into the earth itself. The hag looks confused, no not confusion, she looks scared. You waste no time, linger no more in her suffering, and with a final hand movement you sever her connection to the very weave of the elder itself. Like a marionette with strings cut she tumbles, a pile of baggy bones upon a crumbled throne.

You stand above her, as she meekly looks upward to the brightening sky, her eyes searching for reason or for escape. No more words leave her crooked lips, and then almost as quickly as it began, she fades into the beyond never to return.

The moment is cut sharp to a close as a large armoured foot plants itself firmly and unceremoniously where the hags head once lay, echoing in a sickly wet crunch. You look to your rather large ally, who replies to your discerning gaze with his characteristically brief wisdom:

β€œBetter safe than sorry”

A smile settles warm upon your face, as blighted root begins to curl back into the earth. Treacle apparates upon your shoulder, purring intently with a job well done. You look to the morning sun as it dancing behind the canopy overhead, and with Knight and Grimalkin at your side, a single question emerges within you:

Where to next?

β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”

And so ends our incredible tale, with a natural 20 no less! If you’d like to hear the roll live you can listen here (timecode 2:35:30). We leave Willow to her adventures, wherever they may be, but we may yet see her again…

Thank you all, fates and wanderers, for joining us and helping craft this most special of stories. As promised you were to be offered a choice of three rewards upon thy victory against the hag, yet thanks to your fellow backers and their cunning plot to trap me in a fey bargain, you have now secured ALL 3 REWARDS as a result of the natural 20.

Here is what you can now expect to receive in the final book, alongside the discoveries made by Willow during her journey:
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