Ratmas Boneass! [design an arena]

Arena Theme: Feywild

* The Weerily Well (Cornucopia) 

An old stone well sits abandoned at a place where four gravel roads converge, trellised with ivy and encircled by brown-capped mushrooms, waiting for wishes. Items dot the area around it, and surely they’d be of use in the next few days, but perhaps something of greater value lies at the bottom of the well, glimmering invitingly. Is it wishes? Is it coins? Is it even a portal to another world, perhaps? It would be glad to reveal itself, if you only ever dared to lean over the dark edge and look down …

* Seelie Causeway

Stretching athwart the Sun Lake and bridging the the cornucopia to the dancing grove, is a causeway with lacy flowers running amok its length. The air here smells of daylight and honeysuckle, the rocks covered in a soft opalescent sheen, but the real magic takes place at the first break of dawn: as the sun slowly reaches its fingers across the land, winged fairy-like creatures seem to apparate from behind the rocks. They love to play, but be wary of the fey: what you see may not be what is true.

* The Dancing Grove

The sweet melody of a long forgotten lullaby greets you first as you move along the causeway, followed by old trees that reach towards an eternal summer sky with long, sweeping arms and bright, blooming hands. The willows here do not weep; instead they sing, humming soft tunes that melt together with the birdsong to compel your feet to move, to glide, to waltz gently across the soft earth in abandon. If you weren’t careful, you may even dance forever.

* The Sun Lake

A safe haven for both tributes and soft woodland creatures alike, this lake shimmers faintly with a low luster throughout day and night from strange phosphorescence. Like its namesake, the waters are warm for a sip or a dip, the choice is yours. Search for your reflection in it, though, and you shall not see your face, but rather a more whimsical interpretation of it: insect eyes, antlered forehead, perhaps even beautiful wings or bladed teeth.

* Firefly Coppice

The air shimmers in this smattering of coppiced trees—with pollen, with magic, with a thousand sprinkling motes of lights that float about lazily and make everything sparkle. Covered in ferny underbrush and sequoia trees, it could almost described as an idyllic place, if it weren’t for the fact that your eyes seem to have trouble distinguishing between what is real and what is light. What is light and what is real.

* Duskhold

Carved out of gnarled wood and rock, jagging ominously up from a mound in the ground, is a fortress, or rather what’s left of it. Made to appear like a castle, the walls of it are abound with rotting vines and old cracks, the spires jutting out from it lightless and spindly. Gold-bound doors sit shut, and if any tribute is curious enough to make their way past them, they would find themselves in the interior of a palace long past its glory, treading ankle-deep in cold water. Crawling plants run amok across the flooded floor and the scent of rot is thick in the air, every shadow within stretching to absurd proportions. The hallways are long or short, you can’t truly tell. Are things here more magnified, or much smaller? You can’t tell. Everything within Duskhold, from distance to time itself, behaves in ways it shouldn’t.

* Shademurk Bog

Your skin prickles at first sight. Towering before you, dark and wondrous, is a place where secrets go to hide.

The trees here weep a black, tar-like substance that coats their trunks and seeps into the ground, darkening every area of water in the bog with their foulness. Tread carefully tribute, for the tar is adamant on holding onto whatever touches it: you can glean it from the corpses of unfortunate animals that once populated the place, now stuck upon the roots of trees in putrefying clusters. That doesn’t mean the bog is empty, though; every once in a while, a shadow wades under the oil-slick waters, perhaps to feed off whatever they can reach. That whatever could be you. To enter the Shademurk Bog is to walk into a hungry swamp that never gave up its need to feed.

* Goblin Market

Following no rule of logic or physics, the Goblin Market is a sprawling bazaar that comes and goes. Brightly-colored tarp makes the clusters of stalls, manned by little toad-like goblins who beckon you closer with strange wares they pull out from behind tables. The price they ask? Your eye color. Your deepest darkest desire. Your blood. Your finger-bones, even, if they are feeling mischievous enough.

* Sugar-Plum Gardens

This place is as sickly sweet as it sounds—the tree branches are laden with fat, bejeweled fruits and the flowers bloom wildly to expel wafts of saccharine scents, made for the sweet toothed. But you know what they say about the food in the feywild: one bite and you may never want to leave again.

Movements:

* The Weerily Well - Seelie Causeway, Shademurk Bog, Sugar Plum Gardens, Firefly Coppice, The Sun Lake
* Seelie Causeway - The Dancing Grove, The Sun Lake, The Weerily Well
* Firefly Coppice: The Sun Lake, Shademurk Bog, The Weerily Well
* Shademurk Bog: The Weerily Well, Firefly Coppice, Sugar Plum Gardens, Duskhold
* Sugar Plum Gardens: The Sun Lake, The Weerily Well, Shademurk Bog
* The Dancing Grove: Fairy Causeway, The Sun Lake
* The Sun Lake: Fairy Causeway, The Dancing Grove, The Weerily Well, Firefly Coppice, Sugar Plum Gardens
* Duskhold: Shademurk Bog
* Goblin Market: (Throughout)

A few names and features accredited to this reddit post.

closed!