Alex took one final glance at Tav, letting the weight of everything they had learned settle in his mind before he opened his mouth to speak. He skimmed over the pieces of information they had gathered.
"We’ve got fey and undead. Me, Glut, and Lilimila encountered a mite. Lae'zel and Shadowheart, a corrupted dryad. Tav, Gale, and Astarion—a nest of meenlocks. And Karlach, Wyll, and Dorros… an eladrin." Alex paused, his brow furrowing as he sensed a pattern emerging from the madness.
"I could swear that guy was a spirit," Karlach murmured, her voice tinged with unease. Even after Gale had explained that the eladrin were mutated elves from the Feywild, she couldn’t shake the sense of alien wrongness. That creature hadn't felt like something born of this world—it was too otherworldly, too disconnected from reality.
"I think things are much simpler than we’re making them out to be," Alex said, a newfound clarity in his tone.
"How so?" Orssa asked, her eyes narrowing. She was tired, and the sooner they could solve this problem, the better.
"All these Feywild creatures—" Alex gestured around them, "—they’ve come through a portal somewhere near this village. A portal leaking energy from the Feywild into our world."
Gale’s eyes shot wide open as the realization hit him. "The corrupted dryad wasn’t heading for the village," he exclaimed, his voice rising with sudden urgency, "it was heading for the portal! Attracted by the raw vitality of the Feywild’s energy spilling out."
"That makes sense," Karlach said, her mind already jumping to how they could use this information.
Wyll frowned, his face filled with concern. "Does that mean we don’t have to worry about the undead attacking the village?"
Alex shook his head, his expression grim. "Even after we close the portal, stray undead could still wander toward the village. Their numbers will dwindle, but they’ll still pose a threat. With the right fortifications, though, the village should be able to hold them off."
"I’ve had enough of undead for a lifetime," Lae'zel muttered darkly, her fingers tightening around her blade.
Orssa released a heavy sigh, the tension in her shoulders finally easing a little.
"About time. I’m ready to be done with this place. So, we close the portal and get on with our journey to Baldur's Gate?" Astarion asked, his voice tinged with exhaustion.
Alex offered a simple nod in response, his mind already racing ahead to what came next.
"Do we even know where the portal is?" Shadowheart asked, her voice calm but laced with uncertainty.
Alex knew the general location. But finding it wouldn’t be easy. The Feywild's energy could distort the landscape, twist perceptions, make what should be right in front of you feel miles away. As he opened his mouth to explain, Lilimila suddenly burst from a nearby room, her face pale, her eyes wild with panic.
"Mom!" Lilimila’s voice cracked as she screamed. "Valni is gone!"
The words hit like a hammer.
Orssa didn’t waste a second, her heart leaping into her throat as she rushed toward the room Lilimila had just come from. Her pulse pounded in her ears, her breath quick and shallow as she threw open the door.
"Valni?!" she called out desperately, her voice trembling as she darted around the small space, her eyes wide with fear. "Valni, where are you?"
But the room was empty. Valni was gone.
Orssa’s hands shook as she frantically searched every corner, tearing through blankets, peering behind furniture, as if somehow her child had simply hidden herself away. But there was no sign of her.
"My baby… where’s my baby?" Orssa’s voice broke as the realization began to set in, her chest tightening with a suffocating dread. She fell to her knees, her hands clutching at the floor as if she could will Valni to reappear.
Orssa walked back into the main room, her eyes distant, her movements heavy with the weight of despair that threatened to crush her. The room felt unbearably tense, the air thick with uncertainty and fear.
"Could there have been more meenlocks lurking around?" Gale asked cautiously, breaking the silence. His voice was measured, but there was an urgency there. "I'm sorry if this question upsets you, Orssa, but it needs to be asked."
Orssa’s lips trembled, her hands gripping the sides of her cloak as though holding on for dear life.
"Shadow is guarding the perimeter. He hasn't reported any activity," Alex replied, his voice steady, though his eyes flickered with concern. Every second they wasted felt like it brought them closer to a tragic end—another lost child like Orbis. He turned to Orssa, his face set with grim determination. "Orssa, we will find your daughter, but we need something—an object she has touched often, something connected to her."
For a moment, Orssa just stared at him, her mind struggling to catch up, before she bolted out of the room. Her short gnome legs blurred as she sprinted, and when she returned, she was clutching a simple, well-worn doll to her chest. The fabric was frayed at the edges, one eye hanging by a thread.
"This…" Orssa whispered, her voice breaking. "This is her favorite doll."
Alex took the doll from her gently. A pulse of magenta energy began to swirl around the doll.
"Let’s go," Alex said, his voice leaving no room for argument as he turned toward the door.
"I’m coming with you," Orssa said from behind, her voice hard, determined.
Alex stopped in his tracks and slowly turned to face her. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, no words were needed. The grief in her eyes was mirrored in the loss Alex had felt in his own life. But this wasn’t about sentiment.
"No," he said softly, but firmly.
"I am," Orssa shot back, her voice cracking under the pressure. "I need to. She’s my baby."
"I’m coming too," Lilimila said, strapping a dagger to her belt, her expression fierce and defiant.
Alex looked at the two gnome women—mother and daughter—both standing before him, their faces pale but filled with fire. He sighed, the burden of what he had to say weighing heavily on him.
"Your spirit is admirable," Alex said, his voice softening. "But if you come with us, you’ll only hinder us. You’ll put your daughter, and yourselves, in even more danger."
Orssa’s fire dimmed as the reality of his words sunk in. She knew he was right. Deep down, she knew that going would only endanger her daughter's rescue. But Lilimila wasn’t as willing to accept it.
"I can handle myself!" Lilimila protested, her voice laced with anger and determination.
But Alex didn’t respond. He simply turned away and headed for the door, his pace quick and decisive.
Lilimila glanced at her mother, her jaw clenched. "I will bring Valni back. I promise."
Without waiting for a response, she stormed out after Alex and the rest of the party, her steps echoing her unspoken defiance.
The psionic compass in Alex's hand glowed faintly as it guided them deeper into the forest surrounding the outskirts of Anga Vled. The thick, dark trees loomed over them like silent sentinels, their gnarled branches twisted and intertwined, casting eerie shadows across the ground. The deeper they ventured, the more the forest seemed to close in around them, the air heavy with an unnatural energy.
After what felt like hours, they reached a clearing. The sight that greeted them made their blood run cold.
"Holy shit," Karlach whispered, her voice barely audible. "Is she… a ghost?"
There, floating above a shallow puddle of water at the center of the clearing, was Valni. Her small, fragile body hovered, almost transparent, her limbs limp and weightless. The moonlight filtered through her, casting an ethereal glow that made her look like she was halfway between life and death.
"Valni!" Lilimila shouted, her voice breaking as she rushed forward.
"Brat," Astarion hissed through gritted teeth. "Why did you bring her here? This was a mistake!"
Valni’s body began to drift toward the glowing puddle, her toes skimming the surface of the water. And then, she sank through it, her body disappearing into the pool as though it had never been there. The multicolored flowers surrounding the puddle glowed faintly, their light flickering as if they were alive, feeding off the Feywild's magic.
Without a moment's hesitation, Lilimila charged forward, her desperation overriding any sense of reason. She leapt into the puddle after her sister, vanishing into the glowing water.
"That was dumb," Shadowheart muttered darkly, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I agree. Utterly stupid," Lae'zel spat, her voice full of disdain. She cast a sideways glance at Alex, clearly holding back the urge to criticize him. Despite her irritation, she trusted him to have a plan—at least, she hoped he did.
All eyes turned to Alex, their unspoken questions hanging in the air. But he ignored them, his gaze sweeping across the clearing, searching for any signs of the Conqueror. His mind raced, piecing together the puzzle, but he couldn't afford to delay.
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"There's no time," he said, standing up straight and moving forward, his eyes locked on the glowing puddle. Without another word, he leapt into the shimmering water, disappearing just as Lilimila had.
The rest of the party hesitated for only a moment before following him. One by one, they plunged into the unknown.
The pool swallowed them, leaving the clearing empty and silent once more, save for the faint, eerie glow of the Feywild flowers.
______________
As they passed through the portal, the world around them twisted in a dizzying swirl of colors, directionless and chaotic. It felt as if gravity itself had been suspended, up and down blending into one, their bodies twisting in a void of nothingness and yet everything all at once. Each breath was a struggle, heads spinning, until, with a jarring snap, they found their feet planted firmly on the ground once again.
But the clearing they had left was gone, replaced by a place that felt entirely alien. The sky overhead bathed the world in a strange twilight glow, neither day nor night, with clouds that zipped by, moving impossibly fast before suddenly crawling to a halt. Everything here seemed in motion and still at once, as if time itself bent differently in this realm.
The brackish water that lapped at the shore of the island they now stood on shimmered with iridescent hues, like the wings of a dragonfly, constantly shifting between shades of emerald, sapphire, and violet. Trees, ancient and impossibly tall, grew out of the shallows. Their roots jutted out like stilts, propping up massive canopies far above, creating an otherworldly landscape that whispered of secrets long forgotten.
Lilimila's eyes frantically scanned the horizon, her hands trembling as she searched for any sign of her sister. The panic in her expression was heartbreaking, the raw desperation of a sister trying to cling to the hope that Valni was still alive.
'So much life,' Alex thought, closing his eyes briefly. He could feel the strange, vibrant energy of the Feywild thrumming in his veins, each cell in his body awakening, being nurtured by the plane's natural magic.
They looked around, taking in their surreal surroundings. A clear path lay ahead, formed by a series of small, winding islands connected by thin, winding bridges of land and the gnarled roots of trees. Each bridge seemed fragile, as though it could break apart at any moment, yet there was a sense of stability, as if the Feywild itself willed them to hold firm.
"Beautiful," Shadowheart said, her voice quiet but filled with awe as her eyes scanned the twilight-lit world around them.
"You can say it again." Wyll said awe struck.
"It’s just a big forest," Astarion said, rolling his eyes, though his gaze betrayed a sense of unease. "I hope I don’t dirty my boots in this… mystical swamp."
"It’s an extraordinary opportunity," Gale murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "To be on a different plane, to witness its natural wonders—there’s no telling what creatures or phenomena we might encounter here."
Alex, standing at the front of the group, turned toward them, Valni’s doll still clutched tightly in his hand, its presence tethering him to the faint psionic trail left by the missing girl. "Valni went that way," he said, pointing to one of the tree bridges. His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, a tension that warned them all to be prepared. "Stay alert. This place is not as simple as it seems."
Weapons were unsheathed, the party’s expressions hardening as they braced themselves. Whatever was waiting for them , they would face it head-on.
'You have a way of rallying them,' Glut’s telepathic voice echoed in Alex’s mind, a slight note of approval in his tone.
As they stepped onto the first island, the landscape around them bloomed with a riot of flowers. Some were familiar—roses, violets, and daisies—yet their colors were otherworldly. Blue roses, red violets, and prismatic daisies, each petal a different vibrant hue, swayed gently in the breeze. Other flowers were alien in appearance, strange shapes that defied earthly logic, their brilliant colors glowing faintly in the twilight. Among them were towering poppy-like flowers, at least one meter tall, their petals drifting softly with glowing motes of pollen swirling around them.
Without warning, Alex moved in a blur, phasing out of sight and reappearing atop a giant, glowing mushroom that seemed to have materialized out of no where. The creature wasn’t just any ordinary fungus—it had multiple heads, each one pulsating with a soft blue glow, its body upheld by writhing, starlight-blue tentacles. The entire creature's shadow seemed to mirror the night sky, constellations glimmering within the darkness it cast across the ground.
The earth trembled beneath its weight, each step of its tentacles sending vibrations through the island. It roared, the sound like a distant, thunderous hum, as it turned its many heads toward Alex, who stood fearlessly on top of it.
The rest of the party tensed, ready to charge into battle, their weapons gleaming in the strange twilight. But before anyone could act, Alex raised his hand in a sharp, commanding gesture, signaling them to hold.
In a swift, fluid motion, he plunged his arm deep into one of the creature’s heads. His hand disappeared into the glowing, pulsating flesh as dark ichor flowed freely from the wound, staining the creature’s luminous body. The mushroom thrashed violently, its tentacles flailing wildly as it struggled against the intrusion, but Alex held his ground, his expression focused and unyielding.
With a final, anguished tremor, the creature collapsed with a heavy thud, its massive body hitting the ground like a felled tree, sending a shockwave rippling through the island. The earth seemed to shudder as the life drained from the creature, its glow fading until only the faintest glimmer remained.
Alex landed gracefully beside the fallen beast, his breathing steady, his gaze calm as he surveyed the aftermath. There was no need for words.
“Let’s move,” Alex said, wiping the ichor from his hand and glancing back at the group. They sheathed their weapons, though the tension remained thick in the air.
Lilimila’s eyes drifted to the fallen creature, her breath hitching slightly as she took in the monstrous form sprawled on the ground. Its multiple heads, now lifeless, once pulsated with eerie light, and its tentacles twitched, even in death, as if trying to reclaim the starlit energy it once held. She shuddered involuntarily, a cold tremor crawling up her spine. Her gaze snapped to Alex, watching as he moved with unnerving calm, and a sudden thought gripped her mind: 'If this man called Alex hadn’t been here… '. Her stomach tightened, and the terrifying image flashed in her mind of the beast tearing through the party, of its tentacles wrapping around her, suffocating her, and the others.
'We’d be dead.' The realization settled like a lead weight in her chest. Her heart pounded in her chest, the cold fear threading itself into her every breath.
She cast another glance at Alex. He moved with purpose, but there was something almost… detached about him, as though slaying such a monstrous foe had been just another task to cross off a list. How could someone fight something so deadly without a flicker of fear? She bit her lip, the thought of his cold precision both unsettling and strangely comforting. They needed him. She needed him.
But not everyone’s thoughts were on the danger. Glut, standing a few paces behind, let his gaze linger on the fallen creature as well, though for entirely different reasons. His emerald eyes flicked from the crumpled mass of glowing tentacles to Alex, his expression unreadable. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, something calculating. He could feel the raw power emanating from the lifeless body of the creature.
‘So much potential in this one,’ Glut thought.
The party trudged deeper into the marsh, their boots squelching in the brackish water to Astarion's dismay, the dense air around them heavy with the scent of damp earth and the strange floral perfumes of the Feywild.The winding paths between the islands became more treacherous, but at last, they emerged into an open area, an island surrounded by gnarled roots and overhanging branches. In the center of the clearing, illuminated by the dim twilight glow, lay a single chest.
It sat innocuously in the middle of the island, its wooden surface polished and clean, almost too pristine for the wild, untamed surroundings.
Astarion’s eyes gleamed the moment he saw it, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. "Well, well, what do we have here? A treasure, just waiting for someone with delicate fingers to claim it." He flicked a glance at the rest of the group, especially on Alex , his voice dripping with a mix of amusement and mockery. "Don't worry, I'll handle this. You can thank me later."
The vampire spawn strode confidently to the chest, his fingers itching to get to work. He knelt down, inspecting the latch, then tilted his head slightly, frowning as he realized the chest was neither locked nor trapped. Suspiciously easy, but he wasn’t about to let that deter him. He opened it with a flourish, expecting riches to spill forth—only to find another chest inside. A slightly smaller one.
Astarion blinked, momentarily thrown off. "Oh, clever, aren't we?" He murmured, his smirk returning as he opened the second chest, neither locked nor trapped . But inside? Another chest. Slightly smaller still.
“What in the hells…?” His voice dropped a note, his brows knitting together as his fingers moved a bit more hastily to open the next chest. Inside? Another. And another.
A faint groan escaped him as he repeated the process, pulling chest after chest out, each one just a bit smaller, the anticipation starting to slip away into growing frustration. He glanced back at the group, noticing a few bemused expressions, but his pride kept him from stopping.
A quiet chuckle came from Shadowheart, and even Lae'zel crossed her arms, her ever-stern expression cracking into something resembling a smirk. "What's the matter, spawn? Having trouble with a few simple chests?" Lae'zel taunted, her voice low and cutting.
Astarion’s jaw clenched. "It's not trouble," he hissed, his eyes narrowing as he pulled out another chest, this one even smaller than the last. "It's just…" Annoyance finally seeping through his usual veneer of arrogance. He slammed the lid open on the next chest. "Surely, this one will—"
But no. Another chest. Smaller still.
"By the gods, this is ridiculous!" Astarion growled, now yanking the chests out with increasing agitation. The rest of the party watched, amusement spreading across their faces. Even Alex, couldn't suppress a grin as he watched the ever-eloquent vampire spawn growing more and more visibly exasperated.
"Astarion, perhaps this one has treasure inside!" Gale teased, his eyes twinkling with humor. "Do give it another try!"
Astarion’s patience was rapidly unraveling. His normally poised demeanor was now tinged with pure frustration. His lips parted in a snarl as he yanked the next chest out with more force than necessary. "If this is some Feywild joke, I’m not laughing," he muttered through gritted teeth.
As he opened the tenth chest—surely this one would end the torment—another groan escaped his throat as it revealed yet another chest, impossibly small this time, barely the size of his palm. "This... is... infuriating!" He threw his hands in the air, his exasperation palpable. “I swear, if there is nothing in this cursed—"
And then, suddenly, the chest shook. The wood creaked, and with a soft pop, a tiny creature leapt from inside, startling Astarion enough to make him stumble back. The creature resembled a weasel, its fur gleaming in hues of soft amber and shimmering silver, and it wiggled its nose gleefully, eyes bright and mischievous. It rolled onto its back, paws over its belly, laughing silently at the spectacle.
“Oh, what a delicious meal that was!” the chest weasel chirped in a voice high and playful, licking its tiny paws. “Such frustration! Such delightful annoyance! Oh, I haven’t feasted so well in ages!”
Astarion stared at the creature, his expression frozen in disbelief, his pride utterly wounded. The party burst into laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.
The chest weasel, still wriggling with amusement, leaped onto the lid of the chest and gave a small bow. “Thank you, oh so very much, for the feast! It’s rare to come across someone with such a flavorful temper!” It giggled again, seemingly unaware—or unconcerned—with Astarion’s murderous glare.
"Are you telling me this entire thing was... for your entertainment?" Astarion said slowly, his voice cold and dangerously quiet.
"Indeed!" The weasel winked, bouncing playfully. "And now that you’ve been so kind to fill my belly, I’ll be equally generous in return.!" With that, the chest weasel darted back into the chest, and before their eyes, the previously endless line of chests vanished, replaced by a single, beautifully carved golden horn with a small hole on one of its ends and a large one on the other.
Astarion stared at the treasure, a twitch pulling at the corner of his mouth. His eyes flicked toward the group, their laughter still hanging in the air.
"You will never speak of this again," he hissed, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
But despite his words, the teasing smiles from the others told him this was a story that would be told many times in the future.