Moonwilde Geographic Location in Rolara | World Anvil

Moonwilde

The Moonwilde is a bright fey realm that echoes the Prime Material Plane in form but not theme. It is a place of joy, celebration of wonder and magic, and a land full of music and death. They sky is always dusky; the sun never quite sets.
  As an echo, the Moonwilde is sometimes considered to occupy the same physical space as the Prime Material Plane and its other echoes, such as the Shadowfell or the Positive and Negative Energy Planes. This is no longer true in the case of the Moonwilde, as it now resides within a small crystal sphere a mere fraction of the size of the sphere that bounds the vast Rolaraspace.
  This makes the Moonwilde differ vastly from analogues on alternate Prime Material Planes (such as in the Feywild Realmspace or Plane of Faerie in Krynnspace). Because the Moonwilde has a crystal sphere, travelers can use the appropriate magics to cross from the Moonwilde into the Astral Plane. Additionally, the magics that bind the Moonwilde to this sphere weren't strong enough to separate the plane from the Border Ethereal.
  The benefit of separating from Rolara meant that the Moonwilde would retain its magical qualities when the Stars of Power were extinguished. The Eladrin of the Fey Courts refused to give up their power, but would not risk the entire multiverse collapsing. By moving their native plane to a separate smaller crystal sphere, the Fey Court has removed some of the influence of the Prime Material Plane.
  Features from the surface of Rolara are reflected in the Moonwilde's topography and enhanced magically. On Rolara where an Ocean lies, there is an equivalent sea on the Moonwilde that glitters opalescent and is filled with motes of color. A white water rapid becomes placid pools tiered over one another.
  Beyond all other rules of the Moonwilde, Dragons cannot assume their true forms here.

Localized Phenomena

Fey Crossings are defined as areas in the fabric between the planes that are thin enough to allow casual travel (for instance, simply walking though) between the Moonwilde and the Prime Material Plane, Shadowfell, or another Inner Plane. To an observer, travelers are there one moment and then gone the next.

Tourism

Dear Odnik-who-tends-bars,   Greetings from the Moonwilde, a realm of perpetual twilight and enchanting beauty. As I pen this letter, I find myself missing the familiar clamor of Sigil, the city of doors, our city. The vibrant energy, the myriad portals, the endless possibilities - they call to me, a siren's song that echoes in my heart. And your ears, ever open, yearning for the yarns I spin for you there in the Leaning Chandelier. Yet, I find myself unable to return, for the letter I sent to the Lady of Pain has drawn her gaze, and I must tread carefully.   The Moonwilde, while a realm of wonder and magic, is not without its peculiarities. One such oddity is the curious rule that dragons cannot assume their true forms here. Imagine, my friend, a realm where the mighty dragons, those paragons of power and majesty, are stripped of their true visage. It's a rule that adds a layer of intrigue to the Moonwilde, a testament to the realm's unique charm.   This rule, while seemingly restrictive, has a certain poetic beauty to it. It's as if the Moonwilde, in its infinite wisdom, seeks to level the playing field, to remind us that power and form are not always synonymous. It's a lesson that resonates with me, a traveler who has seen the multiverse in all its infinite variety.   Yet, despite the Moonwilde's charm and beauty, I find myself yearning for the familiar streets of Sigil, the city that I call home. I long for the hustle and bustle, the myriad stories that unfold in every corner, the ale that you pour with such skill and care. I long for the city of doors, the city that, despite its chaos and unpredictability, has a rhythm, a pulse that I've come to know and love.   But for now, I must remain in the Moonwilde, a fugitive amidst a realm of enchantment and wonder. I must navigate its peculiarities, blend in with its inhabitants, and bide my time until I can return to Sigil. Until then, I can only dream of the city of doors, of the adventures that await, of the ale that you pour with such care.   So, keep the ale flowing, my friend. Keep the stories coming. And when I return, we'll raise a glass to the city of doors, to the adventures yet to come, and to the Lady of Pain, whose gaze we must always strive to avoid.   Yours in wanderlust, a traveler

Articles under Moonwilde


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