Nebulous
Legend
I'd actually like to hear the details on this. I love fey. Sadly, not much opportunity to implement them in the WotC mods.
Sure. I'll just post the relevant part from the story hour. I had fun making this fey encounter, it helped break up the heavy combat encounters of Shadowfell. In fact, the whole thing sprouted simply from that one picture of the Frog Queen. Which i should note, has been edited so as not to offend Grandma. My players, however, experienced full-on Frog Nipples!
“Ooh! Ooh! Look what I found!” cries Delphina Moongem. She rushes up, cradling plants in her hands. “Yellowfiddle! This is SO hard to find, you just don’t know.”
Helga the dwarf growls at her. “Why didn’t you help? We could have been killed.”
Delphina glances around. “Oh, I’m sorry. I…I did not notice. Are…are the pigs hurt bad? I hope not…”
The dwarf has had enough of this elf imbecile and stalks off. Brandis grunts, following, and Ash is about to follow too when he hears a distinct chittering laughter in the trees. They all stop, and for a brief moment catch a glimpse of something bright RED in the branches, and then it’s gone, tinkling laughter melting into the darkness.
Unnerved now, and afraid that something else is stalking them, they follow Delphina to Jade Hill, which she insists is not far. Soon, the woods reach an end and they see a large hill rising before them toward a clear, bright, uncluttered moon.
“There! Not far now!” the elf wanderer announces, and she hikes up her dress and begins climbing the hill. Brandis and Helga follow, but Ash hangs back, sinking into the shadows and extending his senses into the darkness behind them, wary of anything following, his dagger ready to lash out and kill it…
Delphina soon crosses a concentric circle of small rocks that rings the hilltop. Helga and Brandis stop outside these rocks, wracking their brains for the significance of such placement. The rocks are deliberately arranged, but they’re not sure why. They ask Delphina, who has dropped to her hands and knees and is digging into the dirt.
“A faery circle, silly!” she says, chortling. “Don’t you know anything? Wonderful magic happens here, things wondrous and beautiful! Now I must find the snailwort for Lady Cynthia. Your mother needs help, Brandis, and help her I will!”
Meanwhile, inside the perimeter of trees, Ash peeks out and sees his companions standing near the top of the hill under a bright, bright moon. He snaps his head around upon hearing laughter above him in the boughs. Again, something reddish leaps limb to limb and vanishes. He squeezes a hand around the pommel of his blade…
Helga and Brandis patiently wait for Delphina to find the ingredients she needs for the tonic. A cool breeze has begun to blow, one that strangely comforts them (demanding FORT saves). Brandis notices fireflies around him and reaches out to grab one…
…but upon opening his palm sees that it is a tiny woman!

Smaller than a dandelion, she sputters and sparks, and he releases it, soon to find it joined by dozens of variously shaped faeries that flicker with eldritch light. Helga hefts her axe to her other hand, unsure of what to make of this, and then a tiny creature alights on her head and begins braiding her blond hair. Brandis finds his sword belt unbuckled, and his blade clatters to the grass. Dozens of these things surround them, a miasma of faery-kin, a nimbus of soft light under the silent moon.

“Delphina—what are these things? What do they want?”
“Oh, just the faeries. They’re so sweet. But I’m busy now. Must dig! Your mother needs help, Brandis. Ah, I found some snailwort!”
Brandis is unimpressed by her help. “We mean no harm,” the warlord announces to the fey visitors. “We’re just here to collect some herbs. We mean no intrusion upon your sanctuary. We’ll soon be gone.”
At the bottom of the hill, still hidden, Ash sees an unusual amount of bright fireflies clouding the top of the mound. He hears giggling again, and spots another flash of red in the branches, this time attached to a small humanoid form. Something is closing in on his location, skirting between the branches with unnatural accuracy, something hefting a heavy metal blade gripped in gnarled hands…

Mist has begun to coalesce inside the ring of faery stones. The sparkling intensifies, the conglomeration of fey kin swarming and singing and chattering, the glow brightening, and then from the depths of the mist appears a short, squat green man with a red scarf cinched around his neck.

“Make way for the Frog Queen,” he croaks in a peculiar voice, a tongue that only Brandis identifies as an ancient goblin dialect. Helga can’t understand it at all.
Brandis stutters, staggering back from this small man who resembles a goblin, but unlike any he’s ever seen. His features are smaller, his demeanor different, and the goblin brusquely waves them aside.
“I Picklenose announce the arrival of the Frog Queen! All hail the Frog Queen! All hail… THE FROG QUEEN!”
Mist swirls and gusts about them, and to their shock and surprise, a HUGE amphibian foot plants itself in the soft green grass! A glistening wet body pushes itself through the fabric between worlds, another foot crashing down, followed by pendulous breasts swinging from a hybrid woman-frog. Her awful voice croaks across the hill in a tongue that is both alien yet intelligible.

“WHO’S UPON MY HILL THIS NIGHT?
WHAT YOUR MOTIVE? WHAT YOUR PLIGHT?”
Brandis and Helga are terrified, and the redhats and redscarves swarming out from the mist and surrounding them does not help the situation.


Ash is likewise being flanked in the forest by six redcaps grinning evilly at him. He dashes up the hill and joins his companions, taking his chances against the Frog Queen. Delphina cheerfully keeps digging.
Brandis stammers a response, reiterating that they are only here to gather herbs and then be on their way, and they meant no disrespect whatsoever. The fey creatures begin laughing, and the Frog Queen tells them that mortals should know better than displease her.
“TELL THEM WHAT HAPPENS, PICKLENOSE.”
The squat redscarf clears his throat and says that he used to be a human barber in Waterdeep, and now loyally serves in the court of the Frog Queen for all eternity.
Now the PCs are really worried.
This encounter instigates a Skill Challenge where they try a variety of Knowledge, Diplomacy and Insight checks, trying to gain some advantage in the situation and avoid eternal service as some ugly little toad monster. Helga wisely decides NOT to Intimidate the Frog Queen, which would have resulted in an auto-fail. Brandis has heard old wives tales about the Frog Queen and how she steals people to serve her, but she is not wholly evil or wholly good, just unpredictable. And ugly as sin.
Their stilted conversation sways back and forth, and initially the Frog Queen seems adamant that she wants to take the mortals back with her to the Feywild. There is clearly no way to escape, and impossible to fight them off, so the group carefully avoids any kind of melee. Brandis Padraig is finally able to convince her that he and his friends can serve her better on this side of the mystic veil, and he heartily offers their services in whatever capacity she deems worthy.
Ultimately impressed by this offer of servitude, the Frog Queen (who ended up sounding like Yoda) says that she will allow them to go free on ONE condition:
There is a goblin who has offended her, a goblin who has overstepped his boundaries. A goblin named IRONTOOTH.
Brandis knows the name because Thair Coalbiter and his father Lord Padraig mentioned it himself this very evening (The last adventure, session #1). Irontooth is whispered to be the leader of the raiders.
“BRING ME HIS HANDS ON THE NEXT FULL MOON,
ONE MONTH FROM TONIGHT. THAT IS OUR BARGAIN, MORTALS.”
So Cynthia wants his head, and now this Frog Queen wants his hands! There won’t be much left of Irontooth to dish around. The group readily agrees to her terms, and then the Frog Queen gestures toward Picklenose. He hands her a stone bowl. She gestures toward Delphina Moongem who brings a handful of snailwort and drops it in the bowl. The Frog Queen spits in the bowl, adds water from a decanter, and waves her wet fingers over the concoction. It bubbles and fizzles, acrid fumes rise up, and then she hands the bowl back to Delphina.

“THIS IS THE BREW YOU SEEK.
NOW GO, AND REMEMBER OUR AGREEMENT.”
Oh, they’ll remember alright. They won’t forget this night for a long, long time. The fey creatures begin slipping back into the mist, vanishing a few at a time, and soon the companions are alone on top of the hill.
Delphina sighs and yawns. “Oh…I am SO tired. I want to go home.”
So they do.
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