Somewhere in the woods one may find a positively fey-infested grove full of magic and enchantment. Giant mushrooms, brilliant colored butterflies, talking chipmunks, morning dew that glistens like pixie dust - the whole nine yards. The guardian of this grove is an old hermit who has been driven nearly mad by being constantly harassed by the fey folk he is supposed to protect. One can tolerate only so much of being the butt of a brownies practical jokes or having one’s sleep interrupted by late night frolicing. The magic of this place flows from Taproot Idol, an ancient stump of some great magical tree deep in the heart of the grove. Should it be destroyed the fey would leave the grove.
In his desperation to be freed from his guardianship the hermit tries to antagonize the characters just enough to get them to destroy the grove but not enough to kill him.
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