The gods should have agreed to fight the giants and let Ragnarök run its course and bring about the end of time. For a new world could only rise from the ashes of the old. But because the gods prophesied to die refused to take part, Yggdrasil—the World Tree—was forced to act before the stalemate led to the annihilation of the nine worlds and its very existence.
And so I was born.
One of the many seeds dispersed by the mighty World Tree, I was teleported through different planes and universes to find a new home where to settle. Eventually, I landed in a strange forest known as the Feverwood. However, this place is nothing like my home world. Here, there are no mighty Vikings or Valkyries, but humans, elves, orcs, and other strange creatures.
If I want to flourish and carry on the World Tree’s legacy, I will have to grow my roots and expand my branches towards the sky. But if, at first, I rely on the ambient magic to power my growth, as my Mother did before me, I quickly learn that there’s a far more efficient way…
This is the story of how I find how to attract adventurers into my mouth and absorb their raw essence as they succumb to the challenges I pit them against. This is the story of how I make the acquaintance of many a friend and foe, both mortals and gods. This is the story of how a stranger in a strange land must face many a peril to ensure its own survival. This is the story of the Tree Dungeon.
After a brush with death that almost cost me everything, I managed to expose Izguril’s machinations and imprison the usurper god within me.
Now, with no more immediate threats to my survival, I wish that I could take some time to rest, but I can’t. Because if the goblin village that has taken up residence within me is thriving, and more adventurers come every day to test their mettle against my traps and monsters, something is nagging at the back of my mind. A dark vision, that was confirmed by none other than the Mistmother—the goddess of foresight. In nine short years, Invaders will arrive in this world to raze it to the ground. Not a soul will survive. Nothing will remain.
That’s why I cannot relax. I must gather as much strength as I can if I want to stand a chance to repel them. And to do that, there’s no two ways about it: I need to expand the dungeon. I need to add more rooms and more treasures to make it more compelling, so that I may attract more seasoned adventurers. Because if the essence of novice adventurers might be enough to maintain my magic reserves, I need that of powerful warriors and wizards to reach the next level.
Unfortunately, as I commit to the task at hand, other threats loom their ugly heads and start stealing precious time away from my mission. Once again, I find myself caught in a series of conflicts that might not only delay me but end up costing me dearly.
How am I going to handle all these obstacles and new foes that keep popping up when I can only focus on one problem at a time? Still, I have no choice, the future of the Feverwood and the entire realm depends on it. If I want to save my home, I need to become more than a mere dungeon. I need to become the Tree Guardian.