Where we left off:
Simon, you recall, and get a tingling sense of guidance, that your two of your friends have been charmed. You can't tell if it was the berries or the dryads themselves, and you have no clue how long this may continue. It seems they are powerless to stop it though.

The Rules Say: The Charmed creature regards the dryad as a trusted friend to be heeded and protected. Although the target isn't under the dryad's control, it takes the dryad's requests or Actions in the most favorable way it can.

So Corlack and Gork technically aren't being controlled, they are actually enjoying it.
Boris is now immune to the charm. (While technically you are only immune to the dryad that cast the charm, I'm just simplifying it by not having a different dryad attempt to charm him)

Half of the dryads run off into the darkness, leaving four dryads dancing with Corlack and Bork. They try to get Boris to dance but it seems their charms have failed against him, and now they turn to Simon and Davik...

"What am I doing? Taking notes when I should be dancing too! Let's boogie!"

The gnome tucks his spell book into his robe and gets up and joins the dance.

Simon succeed on a DC 14 Wisdom saving throw or be magically Charmed.

---

Corlack
Corlack makes room to let the gnome into the circle.

---

Boris
"Snap out of it you dunderheads, we got places to be." Boris barked to the others. "Excuse me ladies, I know that you are rather impressive to look at, even though you do not have beards like our womenfolk. Is there there something that you need help with? Maybe some orcs that are burning down your forest you want us to take care of?" he asked.

---

Da Professa
The four dryads shrug and shake their heads "no" and make it clear they just wanna hang out and dance the night away.

---

Gork
Gork danced the dance of his life!

You all finally stop dancing, only Simon and Boris aware of the passage of time, and even they are not quite sure if it was minutes or hours.

The sky is still night, the stars bright and beautiful between the pines. The trees seem much much more alive.

The dryads wave at you and motion for you to follow them north. But you are supposed to head west.

Davik, "Friends! This may not be a good idea. I fear we may have become lost in this forest. I fear we might have slipped into the FEYWILD!"

"Huh? The what wild?" Corlack says as he comes to his senses. Corlack waves at the dryads. "It looks like the nice ladies want us to follow."

Davik rubs his head, "Yeah. It's like another dimension where all kinds of magic creatures exist and sometimes things go really well, sometimes not so much."

Suddenly he looks scared, "Where did the donkey go??? Aghh!"

The magic of this place...you feel it so strong. You feel strong!!!!

Everyone level up! Level 2!

Corlack slowly turns in a full circle, taking in his surroundings. "Uh. Can't we just keep walking and end up at the Candlekeep?"

"And here I thought we were going to get more quests from Candlekeep monks to retrieve books." Gork sighed then turned to Davik and patiently started to explain. "Look, Corlack's right. I'm not sure what the fay wilde is but if these ladies were evil they were already trying to kill us. Rest assured we are fine. And we could always retrace our steps if you left some items on our way wherever we were going."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:27, Wed 09 Feb 2022.

"Gork smart," Corlack says plainly. "If we are lost in fey wild, then we just turn around. We took one road here. Take one road back."

"That's the spirit!" Gork patted Corlack on the shoulder then turned to Davik. "See nothing to be afraid of! Where to now ladies?"
He grinned a bit maniacally.

The dryads continue to beckon you on to the north as they make they way deeper into the night-shrouded forest.

Glancing back the way you believe you came, you can't find signs of any trail. The trees press close, branches hanging low, and underbrush thick. Not even a game trail to allow passage of any local fauna seems present here.

Davik looks after the dryads, "The Feywild is the plane of faeries and fey. You see, there's planes, like alternate dimensions. The Feywild, Shadowfell...well, there are a lot. Each is different and each extreme, at least according to my studies. They Feywild is a place of unrestrained emotions, where those here are creatures of whimsy and follow their desires. It's not a place to be taken lightly. It's also not a place that was on the way.

"Though, I'm unsure how well turning around will work. I don't remember really how we got here," he blushes a bit though it's difficult to tell too easily in the moonlight, "what with the dancing and all."

"We had better get back on track and find out where we are." Boris said, looking to the sky.  "We need to find a clearing and get our bearings. The trees are making it hard to see the stars."

06:46, Today: Boris rolled 8 using 1d20+4.  survival Direction to Candlekeep

"Like I said we just turn around and..." Corlack booms out as he turns around himself and takes in the wild forest. Unable to move his head much, his entire body flounders around as he tries to figure out where the trail has gone, after awhile he slouches forward. "Not good," he says in a far quieter, dejected voice.

Assuming I'm still charmed

Gork sighed again.

"No worries, once we get some rest we just simply ask the ladies to go back. Sheesh why are you guys so scared?"

The charm fades, along with it all sense of direction until Davik spots something in the thick grass.

He picks up a tiny dreamcatcher. "Hmmmm. This is interesting. I suppose someone has been this way."

Just a bit further that direction Gork spots Spectacle frames in the shape of butterfly wings. The glass has been removed.

Just a bit further that direction Boris finds a Tiny beehive wig made for sprites or pixies. It wont look good on him. Won't fit anyway.

Then, further still, Corlack finds a Wooden pan flute. Wonder how it sounds?

Davik strokes his beard, "Weirder and weirder my friends. We have come quite a ways this way, what do you think? One direction is as good as any other when you're lost."

Corlack holds the pan flute up to his good eye and tries to peer through it. "Strange thingie," he says as he tries to see through each hole.