We left our heroes passing cautiously into what appears to be a subplane of the enigmatic land of the fey, also known as the Feywild, and being beckoned forth through a row of willows. The trees have begun to flicker gently with what seems to be fireflies, but judging from the way they dart playfully about with volition and intent, might not be fireflies at all. You don't feel directly in danger here, but your magical spidey sense prickles like crazy.
It appears to be midday, but who knows - it's the Feywild, all bets are off.
@Laurel While the Feywild is a chaotic plane and very poorly understood by outsiders, you are magically trained enough to know that the Plane of Faerie is suffused with strong emotions and highly potent magic. This particular region seems suffused with a distinct sense of serenity and calmness, the essence of the emotions that accompany meditation and thought. You suspect that other areas of the Feywild are not so peaceful, but this one doesn't seem directly dangerous.
Or at least, "safe" in the sense that this place can be safe.
You're also well aware of the unique quirks of the Feywild - that names and words have much more power here than in other places.
lore question, is the Feywild and by extension the Shadowfell a mirror of the material world the way they are in dnd (Feywild is like a primal earth as if civilization never progressed, etc.)
The willow trees lining the path in front of you shift a bit. If you weren't so busy taking in everything else you would swear that soft whispers are emanating from the branches.
As you move further down the path, following the direction the woman went and the tiny motes of light dancing between the branches, the trees thin a bit and gradually open up into a wide, expansive green grove coated in dewdrops and wildflowers in impossible colors. There is a large, beautifully carved white marble gazebo in the center in the distance, with two humanoid figures inside standing with their backs to you - one male, one female. The woman who led you here is nowhere to be seen.
There is some distant murmur of conversation, but the figures aren't reacting to your arrival.
As you near, you see the male figure is quite modestly dressed in a black-and-white checkered suit, a very human style, with a gold wristwatch. He's casually holding a wineglass with the neck pinched between two fingers and chatting with the female figure, an impossibly stunning woman with a magnificently detailed gold-and-silver dress who is giggling lightly but not making much conversation herself. In Sylvan, his voice drifts your direction: "...should be arriving quite shortly, I imagine."
"Oh, quite," the woman says, sipping her own wine. "I should hope they introduce themselves. It is terribly rude to not introduce oneself at a party."
"Terribly, cheri." He waves an idle hand towards the flowers. "One goes to all the trouble of preparing a fine locale and they might have the decency to hope that their guests are polite."
When I get close enough that they can hear me, I'll bow my head politely and speak in Sylvan: "Hello, my name is Adrian, to whom do I owe the pleasure?"
Both of them turn, and the man sets his wineglass down on the balcony and gives a charming smile. "Why, speak of them and here they are." He descends lightly down the stairs, almost seeming weightless, and folds his hands behind his back politely. "My salutations, the ones they call Adrian and Seline. I am honor-bound to inform you that I am the one called by the dewdrops and the rain, who walks in the willow trees. You are just in time for our party."
He picks up his glass again. "I believe you wanted to speak with me?"
"A party?" I catch myself and get back on topic. "Yes we were here to talk about the 'arson' that we heard happened at the club on opening night. It started with a portal, didn't it?"
"Arson?" He tilts his head slightly and gives a bemused smile, as the woman descends the stairs and begins wandering the glade behind him. "Such a strange term for a strange concept. It is an artificial crime, is it not? So many things, so many creatures, waver on the precipice of destruction. The man with the match merely hurries it along, does he not?"
You get the sense this is some kind of faerie way of messing with you.
"The fire is just a few chemical reactions, what defines it is who's setting it and why, so setting something on fire isn't just destroying something that would eventually be destroyed anyway, because there's a reason for it. So what's the truth of the attempted arson at the place called Alley Five?"
He smiles slightly and twirls his wineglass. "Merci. Forgive me my flaw of conversation, one they call Adrian. Should it serve you, I will be more direct. Fire is a fine servant and a poor master." He sets the glass down on the balcony again. "You speak of the ones who seek the pieces of the Watching One, the Dweller in the Dark Forest."
"What do you know about this Watching One, have we, perhaps encountered them before?" I raise an eyebrow, my Sylvan like the wind whistling through windchimes
"I know not of many things, and I know of many things I know not of." His Sylvan sounds like fine champagne, in a way you can't describe. "The shards of possibility were shattered into your world long ago, and I have never laid my hands upon one. But lately, perchance, it seems they are being slowly drawn together. By what force, I could not say." His eyes regard you searchingly. "Would you have encountered one?"
He chuckles lightly and looks back towards the woman wandering through the wildflowers. "Some things beyond this world peer darkly and peer deep. There are those of your kind, perhaps, who believe they can turn the gaze of infinity. It is foolish to not know you are a fool, is it not?"
"And it's more foolish to, knowing you are a fool, accept it and continue on with your foolishness. If what you're suggesting is that humans are insignificant, that it probably true, but it will change none of our choices."
"Perhaps that is why I find humans so delightfully interesting. Merci. My weakness for conversation again." He snaps a finger, and one of the drifting lights moving through the trees flutters over to his hand, landing in his palm - a small green luna moth. "Let us speak plainly, once more. You know of the balance of the Faerie realm, do you not?"
"Then you know of the Two That Are One, the Seelie and the Unseelie." He flips the moth over in his hand, and it changes color, becoming a deep, ominous, glowing purple. "Just as our realm is kept in this fragile balance, so are many others. One realm that lies beyond both our planes is being overtaken by those who seek to devour dreams. It is the realm that is balanced by four, as ours is balanced by two. Do you know of it?"
"Many words, one place." He lets the moth go, and it reverts to its gentle green color and flaps over to perch on top of Hopford's ear. "Know this and know I speak truth. There is a great darkness that lies sleeping there. An Eater of Worlds, a Devourer, a Seeker. Those who seek to gather the pieces are preparing a place for it. They seek to abuse the power of one entity in order to awaken another. But they know not of the Watcher. They know not that it has taken a Warlock."
"Does water oppose fire? Does it seek to quench it? Do they seek to destroy each other? Or is it merely that by their nature, they cannot exist together?" The man smiles slightly, and you get the sense he's being tricksy again. "But, merci, my weakness. Perhaps I have indulged you too much in my tall tales, no?"
"It would not be a metaphor otherwise, cheri." He winks and looks back to the woman, who has returned to the gazebo and is now observing the conversation with her glass held at her side. "We are only conversing, after all. One may have the occasional slip of the tongue in a place of such stiff formalities. I find the looseness of your language refreshing."
"Would it be any fun if I told you?" He picks up his wineglass again, eyes twinkling with merriment; apparently he has found this entire conversation very entertaining. "This is a party, after all. One cannot be expected to be entirely straightforward at a party."
His eyes get a very devilish gleam in them at the mere mention of a game. "Why, you certainly know how to throw a proper party. What would this game entail, mon cheri?"
