Pip roosts neatly in the bat box I created for her and her brothers.

"I'm going to need one of you to take a note to Moonrise. Do any of you have experience passing through the Shadow-Cursed Lands?"

Pip crawls over, chirping happily. "Of course! We hold a mushroom in our claws to keep the shadows at bay. It's rare that we travel that way. Even with the light, it's a dangerous place."

"What is the danger?"

"The shadows are hungry. If you succumb to them, the shadows take you. What remains becomes part of the curse."

"Shadowfell? Shar's domain?"

"Yes. The curse is her blight upon the land."

"Is it? I see." I scrape my thumb against my finger briefly. "Good to know. I'll work on a safer way for you to travel the skies. I may know someone who can help. For now, my note."

She squeaks. "I'll take it myself! It's for the best."

I gently tie the small note to her. "Find a goblin named Fezzerk or Sazza. Either will do."

"I'm on my way!" She drops from the roost and flutters away.

I pull a vial from my pocket and look at the substance within. A blue liquid coats the inside. A tincture. A gift from Bridget in good faith. Essence of Noblestalk.

Doni and I walk the path toward the base of the Sussur Tree. I run a hand across my face and scratch at my leg.

The voices. So many voices.

It's time to make a sacrifice, but I'm in an odd place to find witnesses to a murder. I'll need to start stalking the paths for vagabonds.

I haven't slept in two days. I need to-

"Mr. Neel. Are you okay?"

I glance down at him. He's a little out of focus. I blink a few times and pinch the bridge of my nose before taking a breath. "I'm fine, Doni. There's just been a lot on my mind. Nothing you need to worry about."

"Do you need anything? Maybe I can help."

"Hm? Oh. No. Thank you." I track the path, and we come upon a large door built into the standing roots of the Sussur Tree.

Druidic carvings decorate the panels in ornate swirls. There appears to be some sort of writing engraved into it. The grooves glow a pale blue.

Doni walks up to it, head tipped back. "Whoa." He narrows his eyes, tracking the engravings, then snaps his fingers a few times. No flame sparks in his hand. He smacks his forehead. "No magic."

"Unfortunately."

I press the door and it swings open. Several stone steps lead deeper into the earth. Each step is outlined in that same pale blue glow. We descend, and the air grows cold.

The earthen walls feel like they are closing in around me. I breathe, and the feeling subsides. We step into a grand hall. Stalagmites and stalactites trail water into narrow streams that weave across the stone floor.

A large Myconid greets us at the far end of the hall. His body is luminescent, and he is crowned with many fungal protrusions.

"Peace Bringer."

His voice fills our minds. It is heavy and commanding.

Doni flinches, and I place my palm on his back. "First time having a voice in your head?"

He draws a hand over his eyes and nods, reaching up to hold my hand.

"Be welcome. We thank you for your service as Steward in the World Above. Our worlds are united. Their peace is ours."

"It is my pleasure to serve."

He hums and sways. A calm washes over me. Doni's grip loosens, but his hand remains tucked into mine.

"I am Sovereign Spaw."

"Sovereign Spaw. Your people have been very gracious to us."

Another hum.

"I heard rumors you were having troubles with the Cult of the Absolute."

"What you heard is true. They have burned through our home. Killed my kin. All in pursuit of the forge."

"What forge?"

"A legend of the Underdark. It is said that a great forge exists somewhere in the bowels of these lands. Though it has been lost to time."

"Do you believe such a place still exists?"

"I do not. If it had, I doubt it would have been lost."

My lips straighten. "I'm sorry your kin were killed so needlessly."

"They feed the young now."

"May their legacy carry on."

Sovereign Spaw sways once more. The protrusions bob with his motion.

"Have any of the First Druids arrived yet?"

"You are the first to come. Lady Lumael is waiting."

He opens the door to a dark room. Through the faint glow of the mushrooms, I can make out bookshelves. Some holding books, while others are lined with gadgets. A large round table sits at the center of the room, dotted with dim lanterns.

There is movement. Pale blue specks shift through the shadows and a willowy voice drifts from the dark.

"Ah. Vash. You've come."

The luminous specks float closer as two eyes emerge from the dark, pale blue as the Sussur Tree itself.

Doni clings tighter to my hand, stepping into me.

"And you've brought your ward. What a delight."

I blink against the drifting light, trying to track it through the dark. I place an arm around Doni, not sure what to make of what I'm seeing.

A lantern lifts, casting a light across the dark, woody skin of Lady Lumael. Modest branching antlers twist backward from her long, deep-red hair.

I'm able to steady myself, taking her in. "You're a dryad. You're the dryad of the Sussur tree."

She chuckles softly. "And you. A Peace Bringer, and yet merely a man."

"Were you expecting something else?"

"The way word of your deeds has spread, I expected you to be a righteous deva."

"There's still time. I should ascend any day now."

Her smile is subtle and beautiful.

Dryads. The tree's hips are compromising me.

Father, preserve me. I have business.

I reach for a leather-bound stack of papers in my coat pocket and set it on the table.

"I have much I wish to discuss."

I guide Doni to a chair and have him sit at the round table.

She sits beside him. "What is your name, boy?"

He chews on his nail but pulls it away and rests his hand flat on the table. Then he looks to me.

I give him a nod.

He slowly covers his face with his tunic.

"Doni, ma'am."

"Why do you hide?"

His shoulders tuck into his ears.

"You needn't be afraid." She gently draws the tunic from his nose, and he goes stiff.

I grip the back of Lady Lumael's chair. "He's not afraid."

"Doesn't he trust me?"

I lean down. "You must trust him first if you wish for that trust to be reciprocated."

Doni's tail flicks. He shifts in his seat and tries to sit upright and proper.

She laughs lightly. "A true gentleman."

The door opens and Sovereign Spaw enters with a chubby human man. He's bald and draped in a pristine white robe. Morning-glory vines wrap about a wooden headdress and drape across his shoulders.

"Lady Lumael!" He bellows, arms wide.

She stands and drifts over to him. "Peter. How lovely to see you again."

They exchange a cordial kiss on the cheek and embrace.

The man turns his focus to me and points with a laugh. "This is it? The Peace Bringer?"

He toddles up to me, leaning in, pinching his chin. "Mmm..." He pinches the edge of my coat. "Lad, you look like death, and your coat smells worse!"

I raise the lapel of my coat and give a gentle sniff.

He slaps my arm. "I'm just playing with you! Come! I'm a hugger!"

He grips me around the waist in thick, strong arms. I feel my back pop.

I give him a thoughtful pat. "A pleasure to meet you, First Druid Peter."

"A pleasure indeed!" He lifts himself to his toes, lowering his voice. "You know... we've had an issue with werewolves in our area, if you're looking for work."

"I'd be happy to discuss a potential solution after the moot."

He gives me a wink and taps his nose. Then he notices Doni. "Will the lad be joining us?"

"Yes. I thought this was a good opportunity for him."

He pats Doni firmly on the head. "You must be a special boy if your father is letting you tag along. Heir apparent to the Peace Bringer dynasty."

A wide grin spreads across Doni's face, and he tries to stay composed. "Yes, he's my father!" He covers his face and slumps in his chair.

Peter pauses and looks at me.

Lady Lumael draws her hand to her lips.

I scratch my brow and laugh lightly. "He is my ward, but no less important to me. He's a good lad."

Peter pats my arm. "You're a good man."

Sovereign Spaw sits at the far end of the table while several more first druids arrive.

Urka - Circle of the Land from the Giant's Plain: A goliath in bark armor, lashed with ropes decorated with polished stones that shine against the glow of the lanterns. A circlet set with matching polished stones rests on her heavy brow, holding her wild, dark hair in place.

Phet'Ithica - Circle of Dreams from the Reaching Woods: She's a fairy, but the power that bends around her feels formidable. She wears indigo dragon scale mail, with a rapier strapped to her side. Her wings span outward, four times the width of her. She flutters to the tabletop and rests her elbow on the pommel at her hip.

Arthur Windhollow - Circle of the Shepherd from the Green Fields: A tall elven man. Long, straight white hair flows over his shoulders and down to his waist. His linen robe trails behind him as he steps softly into the room. Ornate stitching of various flowers and birds spans the chest of his robe.

Finally, Emila enters, dressed in a ceremonial raiment. I approach her and take her hands. "I appreciate you being here. How fares the grove?"

"Well." She squeezes my hand. "I'm glad you were able to arrange passage for me on the Zhentarim's moving platform. I haven't been to the Underdark in centuries."

"Thank my friend, Rooster, for telling me they had one. Perhaps I can introduce you later."

"I would like that. He seems like a wily one." She leans forward. "My type of people."

"He is." I link my arm with hers and lead her in. "There is someone who would like to meet you."

"Is there?"

The room is filled with conversation as the druids mingle.

Doni is curled up in his chair, and I place a hand on his back. "Doni, this is First Druid Emila. She's the one who presides over the Emerald Grove, now that the Shadow Druids are gone. She's a friend of mine."

Doni looks up, chewing on his thumb. He manages a polite wave.

"Emila, this is my ward, Doni. He traveled with the refugees from Elturel."

"I see." She glances down at him and lowers herself to his level, holding out her hand. "A pleasure to meet you, Doni."

Doni takes her hand and smiles behind his thumb.

"Are you happy traveling with Ser Neel?"

He nods and straightens himself in the chair.

She settles back, her hand drifting toward her pocket before she pulls it back with a sigh. "Right. I guess I won't be able to smoke in here. I should have expected that."

The conversation begins to quiet as the druids take their seats around the table. I stand at the end, rolling out a map of the Sword Coast.

"I know you've traveled far, so I appreciate your time today." I tuck my hands behind my back, straightening my shoulders. "There are two open threats to the Sword Coast. They've already militarized, and they set their sights on the Emerald Grove. This was not an accident. The grove is an invaluable resource. Armies move on their stomachs, and securing the grove would be the first step in a much larger conquest."

Phet'Ithica walks across the table. "And who are these threats?" She steps onto the map, studying my markings. "Cloakwood, and some new cult? The Circle of Cloakwood has always been a militant group. But the cult? What threat do they pose outside of a few goblin skirmishes?"

The image of Flind nestled in my arms comes to the forefront of my mind. Cloakwood first. "Cloakwood may be militant by nature, but the fact that they tried to take the grove shows us that they are planning something much larger. What that may be, I have yet to learn. But I have people working to gather more intel."

Peter's belly shakes with a guttural laugh. "And you did this without consultation?"

"I have been operating under the authority of the Emerald Enclave. But your cooperation is why I called for the moot."

"I don't see why I need to risk my people for something that's been a mild nuisance up until this point."

"A mild nuisance that was willing to cut the grove off by invoking the Rite of Thorns."

He lifts his chin, tapping his fingers on his belly. "The Rite of Thorns?"

Arthur's foot begins to shake beneath the table. "That would have been a death sentence for the grove. Cultivation would be near impossible after that. Have they gone mad?"

Emila leans an arm on the table. "You know as well as I do that Arch Druid Aelis is not exactly the brightest star in the sky. I'm not one to dwell too deeply on the prospect of a miracle, but it does seem more like luck that they didn't succeed."

Urka slaps her hand on the table, causing Phet'Ithica to take flight, scowling.

"Who needs miracles when you have Peace Bringer!" she laughs. "A commander! That's what we've been missing. Now we can finally swat the fly!"

Phet'Ithica lands gently on the map once more, staring up at me. "Is that what you're proposing? To take command of druid forces?"

"Under your explicit supervision, of course. An alliance which would include funding for supplies, and additional soldiers."

"What additional soldiers?"

I pull out several sheets of paper, laying them out across the table. "A faction of fungal warriors."

"Fungal... WHAT?!" Peter leans forward, looking over the pages.

Arthur picks up a stack of papers outlining the harvesters. "Practical. Disturbing," he says softly.

He picks up the document outlining the greenhouse. "It seems you’ve covered every aspect of the supply chain. Never in all my years." He glances at me from beneath his brow. "Yet dead soldiers would prevent thousands of needless casualties. It's almost merciful. Do you think your harvesters would be able to retrieve enough bodies?"

"Yes. Perhaps not from men alone, but beasts as well. I’m willing to make use of any creature that can serve."

"Who will be in charge of this operation?"

"A necromancer named Bridget. I have already spoken with her and she is on board with providing her services. We need only provide the contract."

Arthur looks at the documents once more before setting them down. "I will need to discuss it with my council, but I am interested in providing soldiers and funding."

Urka raises an arm. "As am I!"

"Let's not get carried away!" Peter lifts himself from his seat. "After all is said and done, what is the goal here?"

"Peace."

Peter shakes his head. "Peace is impossible. We’ll seize one circle in pursuit of nature’s balance, only to remove the counterweight."

Phet'Ithica flutters up to him. "You are saying the Shadow Druids are a necessity? That we should just let them carry on the way they have? I refuse to accept that."

"Refuse all you want, but there will always be blight in Faerûn. I'm not willing to risk my people for it."

I lean forward on the table. "I can respect your position, Peter, but I request a compromise."

He lifts his chin. "How could there possibly be a compromise?"

"Maintain your people. Keep them safe. But help fund the fungal operation."

He purses his lips and lowers himself to his seat. "I think that's something I can reasonably consider."

Indigo wings flutter up to me. "Your hand, Ser."

I hold out my palm and Phet'Ithica lands. She pulls her sword and bends the knee. "You have the pledge of the Circle of Dreams. Funding and military force." She gives me a wily grin. "Though it may make any battlefield a bit more chaotic than you might expect."

"I would expect no less from the fey."

Lady Lumael crosses her legs and gently brushes her fingers across her collarbone. "We will not be providing support or funding."

My lip twitches. "May I ask why?"

"The Concord is already providing land and access. We needn't provide more. If you intend to industrialize the corpse yard, I ask that you keep the operation clean. Do not disturb my roots."

I dip my head to her. "I appreciate your alliance on this matter. I will include regulatory clauses in the contract with Bridget and provide them to you for review before anything is signed."

"Thank you, Ser Neel."

I glance at the table of druids. "As for the cult... I would like to personally scout out their operations. I already plan to locate their base in the Underdark. From there, I hope to find a path to Moonrise."

Phet'Ithica flattens her wings behind her back. "Into the Shadow-Cursed Lands? How exactly do you plan to navigate the darkness?"

"By lantern light. It's the only viable solution I've found."

"That won't do. There are shadows so dark and hungry that they snuff out almost any flame. No, you'll need something stronger." She folds her arms and shifts in my palm. "I need something you can use to summon me when the time comes. I can bless your party to protect you against Shar's curse."

I hesitate before reaching into my breast pocket. "...Perhaps this?" I hold up Alfira's bell.

"That's perfect!" With a flick of her wrist, she presses her hands against the bell.

Nothing happens.

She sighs and drops her head, leaning on the bell. "Sussur Tree... let’s meet again beyond the anti-magic field, and I’ll touch the bell."

"You have my thanks. Truly."

"I haven't been able to ignore the way you look at me."

"...it simply is."