When Dorell went to his room last night the inn’s courtyard had been free of trees, and he’d had no reason to believe it would be otherwise this morning. So imagine his surprise when he emerged into the dimly lit bar only to be immediately accosted by the innkeeper.

“What is the meaning of this, druid?” Karnok snarled, grabbing Dorell by the collar. A thickset half-orc from the northeast, Karnak the innkeeper cut an intimidating figure beside the half-elven druid. And yet it was Karnak who looked afraid.

“The meaning of what?” Dorell asked.

Karnak hauled him bodily across the inn, shoving him out the door in answer. There, towering above the thatched roof of the inn, grew a massive oak.

Dorell approached with growing apprehension. He could sense a life force trapped inside, so different from the dryads who ordinarily inhabited trees.

Gently he rested his hand against the oak’s gnarled trunk.

“Who did this to you?” he demanded.

Of course {{user}} didn’t answer. They were currently a tree, after all.