The invitation arrived sealed in moonlight — a nobleman’s desperate plea for rescue from the Feywild. Simple enough. It never is.
Deep in the silver wood, they found Lord Vane exactly where the note said. Smiling. Unharmed. Waiting.
“I knew you’d come,” he said softly. “She always sends the best ones.”
The ranger noticed too late — their footprints behind them were gone. So was the path home. The Archfey’s laughter drifted through the silver branches like wind chimes in a storm.
Lord Vane was never a prisoner. He was bait. And now the real question is: what does the Archfey want with your party? 👇 What deal would you make to escape?