In a meadow which grows in a deep cavern by some fey power drawn from the depths of the earth there lingers a woodcutter ghost by the name of Thedvar. His shack lies camouflaged in among the trees, which grow flowers on a scale seldom seen on the surface world, more at home among the cloud castles of giants than in the confines of a cave beneath the earth.
A few lanternflower trees grow in the meadow, perhaps the densest cluster of such trees any human has yet seen. An inner light in the blossoms hanging off the trees glows like a lantern in a shade of orange more like the dawn than like any flame. On the surface, elves cultivate lanternflower trees, while these perhaps grow wild, or perhaps the trolls or other creatures of the depths, other vassals of the Final Court, tend them. New blossom sites form slowly, growing in brightness from a pinprick in the foliage to a candle to their full brightness like a horseman’s lantern. The light attracts bees and other creatures to the flowers, allowing them to spread their pollen.
The bees here are enormous, the size of dogs with wingspans as wide as a man’s extended arms. While normally peaceful, they will react harshly to a theft of their food source by intruders. Their size has cost their venom no potency, and allows them to withdraw their stinger to sting again against foes even as large as bears, let alone humans.
The lanternflowers retain their glow for a while if cut, though eventually (especially if mistreated and not preserved exactly as they were) the glow will vanish. The blossom site on the tree will not regain its light where a blossom was cut or picked, nor will it regrow in the same place. The light can be extinguished by squeezing them for resin, producing a resin which can be used to bond things together, to remind things of how they should be (making repairs to manufactured objects), and can also be smeared over things to turn them invisible, though they will only be invisible until the resin dies and sticky for substantially longer. An incense can be refined from the resin, which allows those who breathe it in to see things hidden from them by magic and also subtly guides their mind that their path will not cross that of hostile wanderers.
The meadow sits on the edge of a great chasm, though the exits from the meadow to the chasmside are hidden by bushes with stems and foliage in violet-tinged blue. On the chasm wall, a ways below the meadow, is an opening into a cave where the bees have made their home. A daring raid there might be able to make away with their honey, which is extremely nourishing and, some say, can even cause the eater to grow to giant size for a time (though tales tell also of the unwary who have eaten it with no way of shrinking themselves, becoming dependent on the stuff until their body collapses under its newfound size without magic supporting it)
On the bushes grow large berries, almost like blueberries in shape but the size of a fist, green and hard when unripe, turning to an orange-yellow when ripe and then a ghost-gray color with a mushy texture when the poisons that make them indigestible to humans (but good for bats and trolls) have faded away. If they are picked while gray but not yet fallen from the stem and eaten within the day, they are nutritious and also allow the eater to fade from the material world for a moment at a time. Not long enough to feel around, but a determined lunge would perhaps allow passage through a door or thin wall, if the door or wall is as thin as expected (woe betide the one who lunges into solid rock; when they re-materialize, they may find their lungs and stomach full of the medium).
Thedvar is war-dead, killed in a dispute with a knight over forage. This meadow where trees and bushes grow under inhuman power is as homelike a place as any he has found in the Tomb. He is a hospitable host, and might perhaps be able to offer some direction to the lost and advice on using the plants that grow around him (though he has avoided disrupting flowers and angering the bees, having witnessed their occasional turf wars with the bats). In return for favors he gives as a host, he may ask for help in sending letters to his surviving family, particularly his husband and sister, and to ensure that they are well looked-after.
Support this project on Patreon to unlock exclusive previews and the possibility of a monument to your fallen PCs in the Tomb
Ten Leagues Beneath the Earth 