For several days approaching the last new moon of summer, the circle of druids known as Tidecallers come to the Western Shore and perform their rituals. According to them, their observances renew the relationship between the land and the sea, as they thank the sea for its bounty and forbearance by offering up the riches of the land.

On the night of the new moon itself, when only the stars light the night sky, the druids lay out a feast in a stone trough pierced by many holes. Their offerings consist only of food found on the land: fruit, nuts, bread, vegetables, haunches of meat, and open bottles of richly scented mead. Celebrants are also encouraged to add their own offerings, with stern warnings that nothing that has been taken from the sea must be presented.

As the tide comes in, the sea is lit with fabulous colors as bioluminescent creatures swim in the shallow water. By the time the water covers the trough, the intense light around the offerings makes it impossible to see them. As the tide withdraws and the water drains out of the trough, the offerings are revealed to have been transformed into edible coral and the druids invite the celebrants to join them in the feast. On rare occasion, if the offerings are particularly well-received, a piece of faintly golden Tidecall coral forms.

Just as rarely, but far less welcome to most, if an offering included something taken from the sea, a very different substance may form. Though it looks very similar, tidecull coral has the faintest veins of purple and is a deadly poison. The druids consider their substance an abomination and attempt to destroy any of it they find—and, if they were aware of the material’s origin, the sacrilegious person carrying it.

Game Mechanics

Tidecall Coral. When asked to describe Tidecall coral, those who have eaten it describe it as among the very best food they have ever tasted, with a faint hint of the sea. They also report it restoring both their physical well-being and soothing their soul. Consuming a portion of Tidecall coral takes 1 minute and reduces fatigue or strife by one level (determined randomly if a creature is suffering from both). A creature can only benefit from one portion of Tidecall coral a month, as attempting to consume more before then only leaves the eater nauseous. A typical formation of Tidecall coral can be split into 4 portions, costing 750 gold pieces each.

Uncommon, ingested, onset (2 minutes), cost 2,400 gp

The sea’s anger is unleashed and its victim’s lungs rapidly fill with seawater choking it to death. A creature takes 16 (4d8) cold damage as the water fills its lungs and makes a DC 18 Constitution saving throw when subjected to this poison. On a failure, it takes the damage again at the start of its next turn and makes the saving throw again. On a failure by 5 or more, the creature immediately drops to 0 hit points and is dying of suffocation . On a success, the effect of the poison ends.

Forced to relocate to their current home a generation before, a clan of hill dwarves thought nothing of the lower hills to the east of their settlement. Nothing, that is, until a creeping evil made its way into those hills and the undead poured out—for those were no hills, but barrows, crypts from centuries before. Songs are still told of the dwarves’ struggle, even lifetimes later, and how a cleric of the goddess of smiths was taught how to forge the vibrance of the summer sun itself into a powerful weapon: the first summer blade.

The dwarves were able to hold their settlement and drive back their foes, but the undead still harried their descendants, annually getting stronger as the days became shorter. The holiday and its stories have spread through the hills since then, and while the undead threat has slowed, few dwarves relish being unprepared. The day of the summer solstice, then, certain dwarven holds celebrate the successful creation of new summer blades. While these blades are made of metal instead of sunlight, such weapons are powerfully enchanted against the dwarves’ most dangerous foes. They are highly prized, and less than one smith in a dozen who attempts a crafting succeeds.

Preparation to make a summer blade begins by constructing a shaft from the surface down to the smith’s forge. This must be carefully made to ensure a shaft of sunlight on midsummer’s day falls directly into the smithy on the day of the equinox. A week before the solstice, the crafting begins, accompanied by dwarven rites and blessings, and requires all the skill and materials to craft a +2 weapon. These must be performed every day until the summer solstice when, at precisely noon, the heated blade must be quenched in the sunlight. Only then does the smith know if they have succeeded, as a successfully crafted blade cools instantly and gives off light as bright as day (as if the target of a daylight spell) for the next 48 hours. Those that fail are still left with fine blades, some of which are +1 or +2 weapons, but while there is no dishonor in failure, there is certainly no glory.

As dusk falls, smiths who have crafted a blade bring their creation to the grand hall of the hold. Priests of the dwarven gods place their own blessings on the blades as they enter, and legend holds that without these the power of the weapons would fade. By tradition, the blades are then gifted to the ruler of the hold, who dispenses them as marks of favor and support to his allies and officers. The smith is then celebrated with a great deal of merry-making and drinking, which continue until the blades cease glowing.

A smith may choose not to gift the blade, but few of those who rule are forgiving of such public embarrassment.

Game Mechanics

Only a lucky few are granted the chance to bear the following weapon.

Summer Blade

Long ago, dozens of city-states controlled small territories along the Great River, and pre-eminent among them were the three cities:

Desetton, the northern island city of scholars; Sateze, the militaristic fortress city on the eastern bank; and Whelside, the wagon city, newest of the three and awash with coin from the growing merchant class. Those cities are now collectively known as Ternion, the capital of the river nation and named for the word “unity” in the ancient tongue. The story of its formation is celebrated at the Festival of Bridges.

After generations of contention, factions among the three cities were preparing for a bloody confrontation when the threat of Attorcarn the Blighter first became known. The necromancer’s hordes brought ruin flowing south along the river on both banks, and with destruction marching on their doorstep the cities agreed to fight under one banner.

It was Jasnata, a general of Desetton whose name is spoken now in reverence, who led them. During her command, she offered refuge to anyone fleeing the undead from other cities. When the great and powerful of her city attempted to oust her in the name of their own self-interest, she executed them as a warning and established the River Council based on the city’s ancient traditions. This group was the core of what would later become the ruling body of the river nation.

In the final battle of what would be known as the Bone War, she slew Attocarn outside Sateze’s walls. Then, with Whelside facing imminent defeat at the hands of the necromancer’s still-raging army, she led the last of her elite guard, the Falcons, to support them. However, because of the war preparations the cities had taken against each other, the bridges between the two had been destroyed, and Jasnata had to lead her guard in a near-suicidal swim across the river. There at the last, she was betrayed as she led her soldiers in a valiant charge. Envious leaders commanded loyal troops to hold, leaving them to watch as the Falcons’ bright blue uniforms were slowly swallowed by the undead mass.

Waiting with bated breath, the soldiers assumed this was some strategy, but as seconds passed and no order came, it slowly dawned on them that this was the blackest treachery. With a sudden cry, the common soldiers abandoned their places and began a charge of their own accord, and any officers who tried to stop them were cut down without mercy.

None of the Falcons survived, and Jasnata was discovered barely breathing. Her last words from that moment are taught to children, carved on public buildings, and chanted during the Festival of Bridges celebration:

“No bridge rests on just one shore. Unite and thrive.”

Game Design

The highlight of the Festival of Bridges is the challenge of the Unity Crossing, in which teams of four or more attempt to follow Jasnata and the Falcon’s example and swim across the river from east to west. Fighting eddying currents, a vicious undertow, and swirling water, it takes a strong swimmer to remain afloat, let alone make progress towards the other shore.

Supporters and celebrants cheer and encourage those attempting the crossing, and a small flotilla of fishing craft holds position downstream to fish out those who can’t make it. The crossing is made in groups, typically of ten or more and these are usually well-practiced and understand each other, the dangers, and their limits.

Visitors wishing to attempt the crossing are unlikely to be allowed to join an established local group, as such teams often have strong family ties going back generations, but are welcome to form their own teams. Use of magic to aid in the crossing is considered a disgrace and anyone known to have done so is scorned and rejected by the locals.

To succeed in the crossing, each character must accumulate four successful DC 15 Athletics checks. When a participant fails, but does not critically fail, another member of the group with the same number of successes can take disadvantage on their next check to give the failing participant a chance to re-roll their check, taking the second result.

For each failure, a participant suffers a level of fatigue . A participant that reaches three levels of fatigue doubles the remaining attempts required for them to succeed, and at six levels they are unable to make any further progress and are taken out of the water by fishing boat.

Groups succeeding in the crossing who do not use any magic gain a greater understanding and unity and for the next month may use the Help action to aid each other as a bonus action.

Ignanfeast is rooted in an ancient agreement struck with the spirit of Iganis, and is said to placate the fey fire spirits. It is most commonly celebrated among the farmers of lowland plains, where wildfires are a constant threat to their grainfields.

Held on the eve of the first moon of summer, each household or attendee is expected to provide an offering, or “taste” for the communal feast. These are traditionally either a small portion of the first of their crops, known as a “first taste”, or a sacrificial animal, called a “blood taste”, but have also come to include elaborate dishes or rare delicacies, known as a “rich taste.” The feast itself is seen as an excuse to let off steam, and is in most cases a raucous affair. In more rural communities the celebration may even attract satyr, dryads, and other fey revelers and last for days.

In certain cities, rumor suggests that a cult known as the Hand of Iganis watches carefully for signs of disrespect during the festival. An open complaint or failure to provide a taste may result in an individual drawing the attention of the cult. The eye of Iganis, a ring of fire on a pole, is often planted as a warning outside the homes of minor infractors, but a number of arson attacks are believed to have been the cult’s retribution for more determined detractors.

Game Mechanics

Providing a generous taste for the feast (equating to around 50 gold pieces worth of offerings) leaves a mystic mark on the offerer. The mark resembles an eye made of flames and lasts for 1 month. Visible only to creatures with truesight or who are native to the Dreaming, the mark itself is harmless, but it is a signal to creatures who can see it that the bearer is under the protection of Iganis.

On most occasions, lesser creatures of the Dreaming who sees the mark are not inclined to challenge the offerer, and it provides advantage on Persuasion, Deception, and Intimidation checks against such creatures. More powerful fey or those opposed to Iganis may see it as a challenge or threat, and the bearer and those with them suffer disadvantage on the above skill checks.

Whether in the Dreaming or the waking, dryad groves are sheltered and secret places where potentially dozens of heart trees are carefully tended behind walls of bramble and wards of misdirection. Here the capricious dryads play out a microcosm of the fey courts, jostling for social position amidst the Court of Groves, which may or may not involve other dryad groves. Life here is safe from everything but gossip, drama, and intrigue. However, the efforts of the older dryads do little to keep the naturally curious sprouts—mortal and fey alike—from venturing out into the world. Wanderlust is built into the very heart of a dryad, for how else could the forest see beyond the trees?

Inevitably, dryad groves fill up with other creatures as well: mortals who took a gorgeous, leafy hand, only to be whisked away. Sometimes children are born to the Court from such mortals or are brought here by the fey themselves. The grovekept are often entirely unconcerned and unused to real consequences for their actions. Only the health of the land and their position in the clique matter. The forest will take care of the rest, why worry?

Characters raised in the grovekept culture share a variety of traits in common with one another.

Clique Sense. Living in the groves gives you an innate sense for social structures and pecking orders. After you speak with a group for at least 1 minute, you can use an action to make either an Insight or Persuasion check opposed by their group Deception check. On a success, you learn the following information about the group:

• Which member is the leader or most in charge.
• Which member is at the bottom of the hierarchy.
• If the group is close-knit or only loosely associated.
• If any members are romantically or carnally interested in each other.

Courtly Skills. You gain proficiency in Culture and one from Insight, Performance, Persuasion, and Stealth. You also gain proficiency with one musical instrument of your choice

Fey Roots. The Dreaming runs deep within you. In addition to being humanoid, you also have the fey creature type.

Polite Smile. You are well acquainted with the tactics fey use to get their way. You gain an expertise die on saving throws to avoid being charmed or frightened .

Sheltered Dreaming. The Court of Groves keeps its seedlings as cut off from the material world as possible, while training them in fey etiquette. You gain the courtly manners and etiquette skill speciality in Culture. This expertise die increases by one step if it involves influencing fey creatures. However, you have disadvantage on Culture checks regarding cultures you have not directly interacted with.

Languages. You can speak, read, write, and sign Common and Sylvan.