The Feywild (sometimes known as the Plane of Faerie) is a verdant, wild twin of the Mortal World. Towering forests sprawl for a thousand leagues. Perfect amber prairies roll between pristine mountain peaks soaring into the flawless clouds. Emerald, turquoise, and jade green seas crash along endless beaches. The skies are a perfect blue not seen in the mortal world—until storms come, coaldark thunderheads boiling with fierce winds and torrential rains. In this world, arcane power thrums through every tree and rock. All existence is magical. The creatures native to the Feywild — the enigmatic Eladrin, the vicious hags, the wild dryads, and the tyrannical Fomorians — are all charged with the mystic energy of this plane. Some are blessed by it, and some are warped. Like the land around them, the fey who inhabit this plane run to extremes. Good fey are noble and just, protectors of the natural world and those mortals they choose to show favor to. Evil fey are dark instinct unleashed, all blood and claw and rage. The creatures of the Feywild can be kind, cruel, noble, monstrous, and savage—often all at the same time.

Some Eladrin sages claim that the Feywild is the dream of the Mortal World itself. The Feywild is in many ways indistinguishable from the Mortal World. However, like a dream, the Feywild is a dangerous, vibrant reflection of the Mortal World. The geography of the Feywild parallels that of the mortal realm, if loosely. Various mountains, rivers, and seas on the Mortal World are found on the Feywild. However, the distances between landmarks in the Feywild—and the landmarks themselves—are often distorted. Mortals come to this perilous realm to tap into the arcane powers that course like unseen rivers of magic through the wild landscape. Some wish to negotiate secret knowledge from the Eladrin; some battle fey who inflict their capricious cruelties on innocents in the mortal world. The dizzying forests, storm-kissed seas, and cloud-sheathed granite peaks of the Feywild hold countless mysteries for those with both the courage and cunning to survive.

Travelers in the Feywild must first pit themselves against the riotous wild growth and rugged terrain in the plane. The plane has few marked paths, and no more than a handful of roads. If lucky adventurers discover a river to guide their travels, they may soon find themselves at the top of a mile-high waterfall. As they pick their way down the slick stone cliffs, the spray from the falls soaks them as thoroughly as a summer shower. By the time choking sulfurous fog rolls in off the hag bogs, any illusions the visitors might have that they’ve stumbled into an idyllic natural paradise are long, long gone.

The unreliable geography of the Feywild only adds to travelers’ woes. As noted, landmarks in the mortal world have echoes in the Feywild. The natural landmarks are often exaggerated versions of their mortal world counterparts. Mountain peaks are higher, sharper, more treacherous. Rivers that meander through the mortal world roar through the Feywild. Seas crash with waves driven by eldritch storms far offshore.

Built landmarks in the mortal world, such as cities, are nothing more than a hunting camp or even a small clearing in the Feywild forests. Even more maddening, distances between Feywild locales can even vary depending on which direction one is traveling. The trip from the Eladrin outpost of Aedonni to the Council Warren takes three days less than the trip from the Council Warren to Aedonni. Absolutely no one who makes the trip can explain why.


Elven Blood Foxman