Points of Light
Forest of Mist
Shalo’dyn is a satyr lord in a perpetual battle with the elf princess Syier and her people. Shalo’dyn’s ancestor is buried in a tomb deep in the Forest of Mist in the Tomb of Phenor’dyn the Mighty. Many would be adventurers have gone looking for the secrets it holds never to return. The elves have become feral over the generations resisting progress and civilization. They are sworn enemies of the satyrs, but have not shown any interest in the plight of those outside the Forest of Mist. Syier and Thoridin have a history. Krang is one of the original troll warlords who along with Og and Gun led the goblin hordes out of the Waste and into the Northwest Province. The now undead the troll warlord caused the elf nation much grief during the tragic Battle of the Valley of Light centuries ago, and is a person the Red Fletcher dislikes greatly. Krang’s presence explains why Mesfert is working to neutralize the legendary archer and princess Syier. The opportunity is to use Krang’s presence to unite the forces of the Red Fletcher and princess Syier against a common enemy. The unanswered question is what would bring Krang into Sparrow Down knowing the dangers to him? This question is what the Red Fletcher will be working to answer as the players search for the Tomb of Phenor’dyn the Mighty.
“You break camp and continue on the seldom traveled road toward your destination the Forest of Mist. As you crest the ridge and head down into the valley you can see only the tops of the great evergreens as you descend into the mysterious fog. The wispy vapors wrap around your legs and the cool damp tendrils chill you to the bone. As your line of sight shortens and the sun melts away you can’t help but dwell on the childhood stories you’ve heard of this haunted place.
Once, so the story goes, when the world was a nobler place the men of Sparrow Down and the elves of the Valley of Light lived in peace and prosperity side by side. Goods, services and ideas flowed freely among the two wealthy peoples. Many families became joined in love and marriage. It was a time of great hope. Until eventually the dark shadow of the Wizards Council reached the land. The wealthy, successful and creative became blamed for the misfortunes of the down trodden. The poor were few and cared for before, but suddenly became many and malcontent and violent unrest ensued. Eventually the goblins came first as poor and helpless masses that deserved to take what the greedy wealthy had; and later as simply invaders grinding the land into despair and hopelessness.
In the end a handful of men and elves and half-elves stood for justice and liberty in the Valley of Light. They led a valiant charge expecting support from kings, human and elf alike, that never came. The resistance was crushed and over the carnage of the last battle a heavy mist fell. The mist that never melts away; the mist you see today—and so entered the age of the Wizards Council. They say the spirits of the heroes lie in wait yet today to seek vengeance on those who brought despair to this land.
Today, though, you hope to find allies. The Forest of Mist is home to a mysterious druid known only as the One, the elf princess Syier and her elves, the Resistance and their dubious leader Gunter and Lord Shalo’dyn and his satyrs.”
After a few skirmishes with bugbears, spiders and vine horrors the party is contacted by the One.
“As you amble through the mossy underbrush of the ancient evergreen forests you slowly come to a stop as you note the wilderness has become eerily quiet. Without warning tongues of fire spontaneously erupt in a circle around you seemingly hovering in mid air chest high. Quietly a small doe walks between two flames and approaches you. A soft innocent voice speaks, ‘the One will see you now. Please, follow me.’ The doe turns and walks into the mist pausing to glance over her shoulder to ensure you are following.”
The party cautiously follows the doe.
“You follow the small woodland creature for the greater part of an hour. As you continue along you notice your entourage gains two bucks, four black bears, a pair of grey wolves and a red-tailed hawk. Your doe guide turns her head toward you, ‘we are here,’ she states plainly and trots off to lounge lazily at the foot of an ancient pine. The mist begins to roll back slowly and you notice you are in a small clearing with a half a dozen stone benches arranged in a semi-circle a handful of paces from the edge of a still blue pool fed by a gentle creek in undisturbed serenity.
From across the pool out of the mist strides a tall being dressed in a dark brown robe crossing regally atop the water toward you. You stand motionless as the being’s tall oaken staff moves in time with his steps each downward stroke leaving small ripples as evidence of the robed visage’s passage. As the ominous stranger alights on the near shore he cautiously pulls back his dark cowl revealing the beautiful and menacing face of the half elf, half orc druid. His deep yet strangely musical voice commands. ‘Name yourself travelers.’”