Chapter Ten of Under the Goblin Trees

Campaign adaptation by Thomas Kelly

I rose early for prayer and discovered Myron already awake and mumbling over his arcane business. He had stoked up a small hearth inside the tower chamber that previously belonged to the wolf, Sir Bartimaeus. The fire took the chill off the morning air. The sky had not been lit for more than an hour when Ivan called from his perch on the watch, “Behold! A mighty host approaches from the wood.”

The Trooping Host

We all scrambled to the gatehouse to peer out through the slits and windows. From under the canopy of darkness that is the Dim Forest, we perceived a trooping host, self-illuminated by dim fairy light, as if many fireflies had converged among the trees. In a short space of time, a striding giant emerged into the clearing in the form of a stout and leafy tree but of such a type I had never seen. Look! This tree was not only strange of bark and leaf, but it did stride upon great roots as a man walks upon his feet, and it did move a pair of its mighty limbs as a man swings his arms at his side, and it wore a face with eyes and mouth and a round knot of a nose.

Ivan the woodsman who, stood at my side, exclaimed, “It’s a treeman! I never thought to see the stuff of children’s tales!”

Riding astride her strange steed, perched in the leafy crown like a proud bird upon her nest, sat the dryad queen, Nyssa herself, resplendent, wreathed in flowers and draped in ivy. An entourage of young dryads, forest nymphs, elves, sprites, and faerie folk trailed behind.

Still held tight in Nyssa’s thrawl, I ordered the gate opened. Now everyone was up and about. We rushed down the gatehouse, lifted the bolt, and flung open the doors without a moment’s thought or hesitation. I hastened out to meet her. Myron tarried only long enough to speak a spell that changed his countenance to something more becoming, then hurried out to meet the queen too, sniffing and whining, fawning and groveling, “My lady, my lady.” All of us came out onto the lawn to welcome the strange host. The treeman ceased his forward stride and, it seemed to me, his glittering eyes looked upon us with suspicion.

As Myron had been left otherwise speechless and trembling by Nyssa’s majestic presence, I collected my own wits and found my tongue. “My lady, we have done thy bidding and prevailed,” I declared with solemn bow. “But a bitter price we have paid.”

From upon her perch she smiled on me, the corners of her mouth lifting only slightly. The great walking tree lowered her to the ground. So gracefully she moved that she seemed to glide toward us across the snow. Myron and I scraped and groveled, and all her fairy court curtsied and bowed before their lady.

“A bitter price,” she repeated my words thoughtfully, motioning toward the toppled Roanwood which leaned yet against the broken tower. “A bitter price,” she said again before adding, “But so sweet a prize.” She bent low and kissed me atop my head, and Myron also, “Ehlonna has heard my prayers. This day I welcome you my guests into my hall, and you shall sup at my table.”