I have recently been working my way westward with these entries, and I've one more region to visit before tackling the Scout Ogres and then heading to points north. To follow the trail I took, head west from Crossings into the Mycthengelde flatlands. Where the majority of traffic turns southwest to head for the Siergelde Ruins, take the lesser traveled route to the northwest. Eventually you will come to a large depression in the landscape that contains the oddly formed, and very peculiar, Lake of Dreams.
There are actually three small lakes here, small almost-ponds that qualify as lakes because nobody has quite managed to measure their entire length. It is the peculiar atmosphere that clings to the lakes that affects the perceptions of those who wander their shores. Gasses and bubbling vapors work their way upward from the earth below to play havoc on the senses.
I was wandering through these fogs and felt my limbs growing heavier with each step. All thought of sleep, as seductive as the notion was, fell aside when I found Damaria waiting around a corner. "Muse! When did you return from your trip?"
The smile she turned to me warmed my heart, and we hugged there beside our reflections in the mirror-like waters of the Lake of Dreams. "Just recently, mon Coeur."
I noted the smell of honeysuckle about her hair and as I stepped back I had to ask, "Damaria? I thought you gave me your circlet of honeysuckles for luck and protection when you went off to meditate?" My fingers traced the flower-crown where it rested upon her head. "Did you find another one on your journey?"
The elf healer laughed, a sound of tingling bells, "Of course not, silly one; this is just a dream," and she reached out to tug the corner of my mustache.
I startled awake as I stood there, the entire vision lasting no more than fifteen seconds. I had to shake the lingering scent of Honeysuckle from my senses quickly, for when I looked down, there was something trying to dissolve my left foot.
The culprit of this attack was the Lipopod, a lake-dwelling worm of gigantic proportions with an appetite to match. Its nearly transparent body is coated with an acidic ooze that leaves a charred trail of scorched ground and digested creatures. There are alchemists who have spent their entire early careers dissecting these creatures, so I will spare you a heavily detailed description.
The creature is immune to the lulling effects of the local waters and takes advantage to swarm any caught in their lethargic embrace. The Glutinous Lipopods are as dangerous as any goblin but either unintelligent or uncaring of their lives, for they advance on any opponent who wanders along. They cannot be skinned (it is debatable if they even have skins), but any intrepid and strong-stomached adventurer has the possibility of finding the odd indigestible chunk of treasure in the Lipopod's gullet.
It is fortunate you do not have to fight to keep your breakfast down in facing the other creature that inhabits these odd waters. The Water Sprite is as alluring as the Lipopod is stomach-churning. All one has to do is look into their eyes, though, to see the dark color of madness lurking beneath their fair visage. Perhaps it comes from whatever source that has polluted these waters, but having seen the fae creature in the Hunting Grounds, where it was just as mad, I suspect it is a natural state.
The lunacy of this Water Sprite obviously makes it immune to common sense and self preservation, as it advanced to face my axe with wild glee. They are agile, more so than goblins, but were unable to avoid the arc of my weapon. They depend upon natural speed and their own clawed fingers over any armor and weapons. If you have measured yourself well against goblins, you will also do so when facing these fae creatures.
They do manage to carry a good number of bronze and copper in their diaphanous robes, as reward for those who attempt to end their pain. If there were a resell market for slippers, an enterprising trader would be able to corner a cheap supply here.
Even if you do not travel to this trio of lakes for the purpose of facing either of these minor dangers, the uniqueness of the landscape has an eerie beauty to it that compels lingering contemplation. All I know, gentle Reader, is that my dreams tonight will be touched with at least one of the visions I have seen this day.
May your dreams be signposts to your reality's fulfillment...