Summary
In the twilight-spun chaos of the Feywild, the adventurers’ night was far from restful. Just as dreams began to take hold, the
party found themselves beset by violet fungi and sentient shrubbery—magical flora twisted by the wild magic of the realm. The ambush forced
them to reset their rest entirely, leaving them weary and wary.
Still determined, they pressed on through the mist-soaked night until sky veils parted to reveal a radiant golden arch, half-hidden in the
fog, and spotted by Wisteria's flight. Falkos confirmed it: the entrance to the Midsummer Court. Crossing its threshold, the
party stepped into an eternal summer—petal-lined streets, endless waterfalls, and walkways that glowed gently beneath their feet.
In Oberon’s canopy spires, the group reunited with Vaelrin. Formality was quickly discarded for a warm, sincere
reunion between fey kin (kinda). Vaelrin brought the party up to speed on the state of the court, but before they could meet
Oberon, they overheard him in mid-rant—muttering into his rose-petal phone about bureaucratic nonsense
Once inside, Oberon greeted Falkos with a blend of flair and affection. The starwing jay eggs were promptly collected—Oberon’s
delight barely veiled by his declaration of needing a bath and finishing some tedious government things. He invited them all
to breakfast the next morning.
Their accommodations were the Toadstool Suite, where animated fungal furniture did little to settle nerves frayed by hostile
greenery the night before. Beds whispered, mushrooms traded secrets, and a suspicious worm insulted Helka. Helka, unamused,
successfully shut it down until it disappeared into the doorframe in fear.
Morning came with sunshine filtering through ivy-laced windows and the gentle song of leaves. The breakfast spread was spectacular:
moonberry tarts, petal pancakes, sunfruit slices, and honeyed tea. Oberon arrived barefoot and be-robed, dressed in elegance
with the effort of someone who clearly was at home. He sipped tea and teased the party about their lateness, but assured them the
eggs were still on the way.
Talmirr, still visibly unsettled by a jam-thieving accusation from a tiny toadstool, voiced concerns about the erratic nature of
the court. Oberon, with a lazy smile, warned them: "Be careful when you bite the bread. It might bite back."
(He was probably joking.)
But the tone shifted when Oberon turned to Falkos and spoke candidly: something is wrong in the Feywild. The land feels unstable,
flickering between dreams and fractures in its very fabric. Titania has called a grand assembly to unify the Fey realm and
likely impose structure upon it.
Oberon, ever the champion of wild freedom, fears that her order may strangle the Feywild’s magic.
He believes the party could tip the scales. He asked them to serve as his voice and eyes at the upcoming courtly gathering, to
stand against Titania’s vision of harmony if it means muting the Feywild’s heart. Before sending them off, he pointed them
toward the Moonflow Archives - the mystical repository of Midsummer Court’s long, tangled history.
Things of note
⬥ Party reached the Midsummer Court, a golden-arched gateway to Oberon’s realm of eternal summer.
⬥ Oberon welcomed Falkos, received the starwing jay eggs, and invited the party to breakfast, where he later shared his concerns about Titania’s tightening control.
⬥ Oberon asked the players to represent him in the upcoming assembly and directed them to the Moonflow Archives.