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Season:
November 1st, 2025 - January 31st, 2026 11:59PM IST

Hel’s Last Light

It took you a moment to reach the cries that tore through the Pass of Heidrun. You forced your figure through the underbrush, the branches ripping at your coat, when the scene unfolded before you. Hel and Ylva collided into one another, their embrace tight, as if letting go would break them forever.

“I’m here, love,” Hel murmured, her voice low and softer than mostfel might ever hear it. Ylva buried her face even deeper into Hel’s mane now, shaking still.

“Ulfr?” Ylva asked, her words cracking with fear.

“Resting nearby,” Hel answered without hesitation, “He’s alive.”

The tension built within Ylva’s chest finally gave her some relief, her knees nearly buckled beneath it. “Bjorn?” she asked again, fear creeping back in.

Hel hesitated. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure.”

Your gaze shifted now beyond Ylva and Hel. Freyja lay draped over Fenrir’s massive form as he gasped desperately for air, black spilling freely from the wound at his neck as it pooled beneath him steadily. She looked up when she sensed you, eyes locking first with Hel, and then you. Each and every glance was a plea, a plea laced in horror.

“Please,” Freyja sobbed, her voice breaking through the silence. “Don’t leave me again, not now.” Freyja’s words were tangled as her entire body trembled. “I got the books. I found them all. I found the books, please.” She pressed her forehead to Fenrir’s now. “I need you. She needs you. Please.”

She? Hel glanced briefly in your direction, then back to Freyja without turning her head. Ylva struggled to watch, turning her face into Hel’s mane again and again every time she tried to look at Freyja. Her grief caused Ylva to break into tears as she tried to choke them back.

“Is he going to die?” Ylva cried out, her voice muffled between each sob. Hel didn’t answer right away, the energy surrounding the entire moment as it unraveled causing her to blank. “Hel,” Ylva begged.

Hel finally stepped back so the two stood face to face. “I can save him,” she insisted with uncertainty. “But you won’t like how I have to do it.”

Ylva’s expression twisted with a dread only Hel could truly understand. “What do you mean?”

Hel refused to explain. Instead, she turned and trotted towards you. “My friend,” Hel spoke softly as she paused to look to Ylva, “forgive me, but I need yet another favor from you.” She moved to Fenrir’s side now, Freyja had still been lingering there, unwilling to leave him try as Hel might to encourage her to step aside. You carefully followed Hel, nervous now as you could witness both Freyja and Fenrir up close. When your eyes met Freyja’s again, your breath was caught in your chest. There it was… the same look you had seen in your vision, only now in the flesh. Hurt so deep it burned to touch. Fury roared through her glare, sharp enough to kill, as if part of her had blamed you.

“Freyja, please,” Hel said gently in an attempt to soothe her.

Finally Freyja backed away slowly, sobbing in a way you had never heard from her before, completely shattered and beyond composure. Hel turned her head so that no one could read her lips, addressing only you now, “I can fix him, I think,” she whispered. “With magics we should not be dabbling in.” Fenrir groaned, his body still convulsing from time to time. “Like all magic it will come at a cost. There will be a moment when there is a flash of light, blue in color. When it comes, I need you to reach out and grab hold of me.”

Hel swallowed hard, you’d never seen her this nervous before. “It may very well claim me,” she admitted hesitantly, “And I would understand if you chose to let me burn instead.”

Before you could answer, Hel stepped into place and began to chant something under her breath. Once. Twice. Three times now. Within mere seconds the sky roared to life, answering her call as though the two were mortal enemies and lovers at the same time. Thunder rolled in overhead as clouds churned with fury. Fenrir convulsed even worse, thrashing and kicking as if something was being torn from his very soul. “You’re hurting him—STOP!” Freyja screamed, trying to press against the storm towards the three of you. Ylva intercepted her, holding her back as best she could as the storm somehow intensified.

Hel’s eyes met Ylva’s across the chaos and corruption, black bleeding into them as wind whipped at her coat wildly. Ylva shook her head, tears streaming down her own face and now both Ylva and Freyja fought the gravity of the storm as they tried to close the gap between the two of you.

“I love you,” Hel mouthed one last time before the darkness consumed not just Fenrir, but you and Hel as well. The surrounding mountains and forest darkened as black poured from Fenrir’s body in violent waves, his screams washed away by thunder. Freyja’s voice still carried through the storm, raw with terror and heartbreak.

Hel looked to you one last time. The sorrow in her expression struck you so deeply it hollowed your chest entirely. Something about her expression only grew even more horrific as her eyes and features began to droop. As the final words left her lips the storm peaked overhead. A blinding flash of blue light burst through the pass, knocking nearly everyone over as it threatened to batter them. You would have a split second, a mere moment to decide if Hel was worth the risk. Reach out and ground her now, which could risk your own life. Or let Hel burn.

Objective:

Depict or write your Character at the center of a violent storm with Hel, on the peaks of Haldor’s Pass. Reach out and touch her, or let her burn, the choice is yours. Please make your decision clear in your entry, as your contribution to Storybook has crucial results to Hel’s fate.

Reward:

1,500 Felcredits, 1x Chest of War, Peace, Power, Knowledge, 1x Empty Vial, 3x Kryptonite Crystal*, 1x Title: Prophet*, 1x Essence of Trickery, 25% Chance for 1x Bjorn’s Mercy*

Submit Completed Storybook Entries Here

Quest

01/01/2026 - 01/31/2026 | 11:59:59PM IST

When Waters Rise

The new year does not arrive gently in Ulfrheim. A vicious freezing rain lashes out at the land without mercy nor pause, turning packed snow to slush and mud. Anyfel who walks through the violent storm will find themselves soaked through to the bone, a chill locked deep within them that they struggle to shake. Every year, the pounding rainfall strikes fear into the hearts of the many creatures that reside here, flooding rivers and lakes alike until they swell beyond what their banks can hold. While every Lake nestled within Ulfrheim is punished by the storms, Lake Skaro becomes the most difficult and dangerous to traverse. The furious sheets of rain make the lake more dangerous than ever, flooding the marshlands nearby and wreaking havoc on the environment. What was once a familiar shoreline becomes a shifting maze of debris, broken branches, and paths that are half-submerged.

The storms strike without warning, taking mostfel by surprise, and you’re one of the ones unlucky enough to be nearby when this one hits Skaro with a punishing force. One moment, the birds are singing and flitting through the trees, golden shafts of sunlight peeking through woven branches. In the next, the sky grows dark overhead and fat raindrops begin to fall, rolling down tree trunks and over the curves of the leaves that were brave enough to survive the many previous storms. Lightning cracks the sky wide open as it strikes somewhere nearby, the scent of ozone sharp in the air, and you quickly become disoriented as the world turns dark immediately around you. You know you’re close to Lake Skaro, but it’s difficult to discern where exactly - what path can you take to get to safety, or will you turn to walk directly into the lake’s embrace? You can’t be sure.

As the storm picks up, the rain turns quickly into thick sheets that further obscure your vision. The wind begins to gust, pushing against you with an insistence you can feel in your fur like a paw shoving at your shoulders from every direction. As you stand your ground and lean into the buffeting wind and rain, you can feel water lapping up over your paws, rising higher with every second against your ankles. It’s clear to you what’s happening - the Lake is beginning to flood, and soon enough you’ll be washed away with everything else around you if you stay as you are. With no true guidance as to what to do or a clear vision of anything around you, you must make a choice: will you let the rain wash you away, or will you find the strength to push forward and find safety?

Objective:

Depict or write your character navigating the frigid and violent rainfall that strikes Ulfrheim in the new year, causing Lake Skaro to flood. Show them braving treacherous waters, rescuing a stranded creature, or helping somefel reach higher ground.

Reward:

1,000 Felcredits, 1x Imbued Lure, 1x Waterlogged Goods, 3x Mushrooms, 1x 50% Chance at 1x Background Kit: Stormy Pass*

Submit Completed Quest Entries Here

Beast Hunt

12/03/2025 - 01/02/2026 | 11:59:59PM IST

Fern

You squint your eyes against the sunlight as it reflects off of the freshly fallen snow. You place your paws in a calculator manor, careful as to not break the soft surface. You shuddered, not daring to think about how deep it went and as a result, how a pelt clumped in snow would feel should you fall through. You stop to sniff the occasional berry, carefully plucking stems full of the ripe, juicy morsels with a gentle nip of your front teeth. Before long, you had a satchel full of berries of all kinds of varieties, perfect to paw deliver to the local bakeries as they prepare for the influx of warm pastry orders. The world around you held a gentle silence, aside from the birdsong here and there as they flew from branch to branch upon the great oaks. With each flutter of their wings, small tufts of snow fell onto your coat, spraying flurries as they collided with your fur. Just as you crest a rise in the hill, you find yourself standing with a stunning view of the landscape below. You had wandered your way to the craggy cliffs, a summit that hosted a haven for all kinds of berries.

As you take a deep breath, you hear a beautiful bugle sound nearby. This wasn’t just any bugle, but the call of winter itself, Fern. Flicking your ears, you take notice of the subtle frustration that edged his cry. You cautiously walk the edge of the cliff until you happen upon the reindeer, his fur frosty as plumes of cold mist poured from his icy antlers. You watched in amusement as the stag stamped his hooves and snorted, a clear sign of annoyance. You look around, to find what once was a berry bush picked clean of its fruit. Upon closer inspection, you saw the juice of these succulent berries at the corners of Fern’s lips. It clicked, Fern wanted more of these berries, but not a moment too soon as Fern cried once again and threw his head, showing the tines of his antlers. He was pointing to the cliff edge, and with another stamp of his hoof, urged you to look.

There dangerously out of reach on the cliffside was a particular berry bush, the ripe fruit matching the same violet color that stained Ferns maw. You pin your ears back and stare at Fern in utter disbelief. He held his gaze on you expectantly. Surely he would take any berry? You quickly pulled out your satchel overflowing with your freshly picked berries and pushed a great many pawfuls in Ferns direction. Fern scooped up the berries within his mouth, your chest sighing with relief, until you watched the beast fling them over the cliff edge. Those would simply not do, it was clear he would not tolerate anything short of those specific berries. The glint of indignation sparkling in his eyes was enough to tell you as such, let alone your berries that were now a pile of mush below. With one last snort, Fern bowed his head, as if offering to help. You looked the beast up and down and wondered just how the two of you would manage, but alas, the King of Winter was not to be disappointed. The berries Fern wanted were in a spot most difficult to reach. You two will have to work together to devise a plan to obtain them safely, and preferably without dying in the process.

Objective:

Depict or write your character utilizing Fern in some way, to effectively help the two of you reach some berries Fern insists tastes better than the rest. The Peaks of Fenrir’s Incisor is frosted over this time of year but foliage still finds a way to force through the blanket of snow.

Reward:

1x Badge, 1x Berry Bush, 1x Pile of Snow, 1x Scroll of Mastery, 2x Mushrooms, 2x Flora, 50% Chance for 1x Stag Totem*

Submit Completed Beast Hunt Entries Here

Feltide Advent 2025

Live!

November 27th - January 1st

Departing Shops

The Glacial Ridgeway

February 14th @ 11:59 PM IST

Come celebrate the strange, the rare, and the unexpected!

2025-12-30 21:14:59

🌊January's Quest is Live!🌊

In Ulfrheim, the new year arrives with a tide of freezing rain and sunken pathways. You find yourself lost in the swelling waters of Lake Skaro, disoriented and alone. How will you navigate such a perilous storm, will you stand your ground or push into the storm and hope you survive?

Head to the front page to read more!

2025-12-27 23:13:42

Chapter 5, Phase 4 - Storybook

Response To: 'Chasing Shadows'

The rays of early morning sunshine rolled over Haldor’s Pass in layers of scattered gold.They spilled out and across the rolling hills, washing over the blanket of snow beneath your paws in various shades of apricot and lavender. Light dappled delicately against the forest floor, laced against every pine needle and stone alike. With your nose pressed firmly to the ground, you searched for Freyja’s scent where the dying campfire laid barren now. It was faint, meaning she had left some time ago, but it was still there, muddled in with the scent of ash and winter, trailing just north of where the two of you had set up camp. You had only just made out the shapes of her pawprints in the snow when voices cut through Haldor’s morning hush.

The voices were not peaceful, not in the slightest. Tension weighed heavy in the air as if to be a storm that hadn’t decided whether to break or roar on more violently. It was Bjorn and Ylva. At first you were confused, how could she be here? Even still you held back cautiously in the underbrush, listening to the conversation they exchanged.

“He’s not himself,” Ylva insisted, “Bjorn, listen to me. He is our brother.”

“This is foolish,” Bjorn snapped back. “We’re finished making excuses for him. What you are seeing is Ulfr as Ulfr, raw and unfiltered.”

Ylva’s ears pinned back tightly against her skull, uncertainty flashing across her expression, “You know that’s not true. It’s dark magic. Hel said so. We can trust her.”

When Ylva spoke Hel’s name, Bjorn’s hackles lifted like he’d been struck by lightning. “Hel,” he growled. “You’re surrounded by corruption. If you remain in this cycle, it will corrupt even you.”

Ylva flinched as if the words Bjorn had spoken had teeth, as though they reached out and snapped at her. “You’ve forgotten the way of forgiveness, Bjorn,” she said, voice trembling now with hurt, “And it will leave you cold. Cold and alone.” She regretted them the moment they left her muzzle, but she couldn’t take them back.

Bjorn didn’t answer. He only stared at her like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard, then he turned and vanished into the trees. Frustration in every stride as Ylva took a few pawsteps towards him nervously reaching. You stepped out from the underbrush now as Ylva snapped back to reality. She wiped her face quickly, trying to pretend she hadn’t been crying, but her eyes gave her away when she noticed you. Clearly deprived of rest and pained by something.

“Judgment,” she whispered, hurt, “They all wish to cast judgment.”

Ylva drifted to the cliff’s edge now and stared out towards Skalaness, the hills rolling away beneath the morning light as it attempted to wash away Ylva’s sorrow. “They speak of forgiveness like it belongs to everyone… until it doesn’t suit the verdict they’ve already chosen. Then it’s animosity instead.” She could feel her throat tense up, choking back even more tears, “Have they not learned death is not the way? Have they not learned from the moment that tore us all-”

“Stop whining, girl.” Another voice, somewhat unfamiliar, sliced through the treeline now. Skorgrim stepped from the shadows, gaze hard as stone. He sized you up with open disrespect as he passed, before fixating on Ylva. “As if you know what it means to struggle. As if you know no love, no compassion, no kindness.”

“You cast judgment and weigh assumption on what you know not,” Ylva shot back without hesitation, pride washed over her as she lifted her head higher now to make it clear she wasn’t scared of the creature standing before.

Skorgrim’s lip curled up in agitation. He surged forward, words spitting as he closed the gap between them rather quickly. “Says the bitch in Fenrir’s Shadow.”

Instinctively you released a low growl, allowing it to rise deep from within your chest. Skorgrim’s gaze snapped to you, clearly unimpressed before responding to Ylva, “Not allfel walk the righteous path you walk,” he muttered, clearly angered by you both, “Some of us were born of hatred. Meant to kill.” Ylva’s expression flicked to confusion, then dread.

“Your precious Ulfr will do just that,” Skorgrim continued now, “He will be the sheep Oracle needs. Seeing as I failed him.”

Skorgrim turned now and brushed past you, the two of you paused shoulder to shoulder for a moment as he whispered words he could only hope would start a fight, “All bark, no bite.” You looked to Ylva as Skorgrim continued on and took his leave, disappearing into the forest once more. Neither you nor Ylva understood who Skorgrim was, not yet. But when you told Ylva about the tome, about the purple vortex and Ulfr’s eyes when he lunged at you, her posture changed. She appeared panicked as she digested every word. Together, the two of you turned north, following Freyja’s trail deeper into Haldor’s Pass. Ylva said very little on the way, lost in her thoughts, and all you could do was stay beside her, even as you heard her sniffle from time to time.

The peace you two shared upon the blanket of white was very quickly disrupted again. A commotion rose through the trees, the two of you breaking into a trot to see what was happening ahead. Through the branches you caught sight of Ulfr and Fenrir, face to face, their posture rigid and laced with fury. Ulfr’s voice was a mess of nonsense and broken words, words nofel could fully make out. Fenrir’s voice, however, was crystal clear.

“You are no son of mine.”

What followed was an eruption. Fur flying as they slammed into the forest floor, sending earth and snow alike flinging in every direction surrounding them. Ylva screamed at them to stop, pleading, trying to wedge herself between them, but they crashed into her in a blind fury without regard. Fenrir twisted towards her, alarmed, and in that moment Ulfr scrambled to all fours and sprang upwards, sinking teeth deep into the Great Father’s neck. Fenrir roared. He bucked and spun, finally breaking free of Ulfr’s bite and sending him off into the distance with brute force. Ulfr hit the ground so hard he yowled. He scrambled to all fours and bolted straight through you, knocking into your shoulder and nearly sending you both over as he disappeared into the trees.

Fenrir’s howl quickly became something far uglier and unnatural. Black blood poured from the bite, staining his fur even darker somehow. Ylva rushed to his side, she was frantic, and when she looked up at you she didn’t need to speak words aloud for you to understand what she was asking of you. You spun immediately and made chase after Ulfr. You found him near a cliffside, heaving, a dark shroud pressing close around him as it threatened to consume him whole. He didn’t look as though he could be talked down. There was something in his eyes that wasn’t just rage. It was hurt, sharpened into something so far beyond repair. You barely had time to decide what to do before Ulfr turned and lunged at you. You prepared for impact but it never came.

Instead Bjorn intercepted. The two slammed together like brick walls as they slid over the cliffside and tumbled down in a tangle of claws and snarls. Your heart stopped for a moment as you raced to the edge of the drop, scanning left and right as you tried to track them as they scrambled downwards. A flicker of light in the treeline to your right caught your attention. A figure weaving between the trunks, and very quickly you could digest it was Hel. Impossible. You left her in Miðhafsey.

She sprinted towards you at full speed, gaze locked on yours as she thundered forward. Then she leapt without hesitation over the cliff, scaling down like she knew every crease. You stood frozen still at the edge, watching her drop to where Ulfr and Bjorn were scrapping. Hel whispered something under her breath, chest lifting and collapsing violently. In the middle of Ulfr’s next lunge, his body seized, then collapsed against the mountainside as if the strings to whatever controlled him had been severed. Limp. Breathing, but barely alive.

Bjorn stood over him, panting, eyes burning down on him like a blade forged in flames. One strike could end it all. One choice and it was his to make. Hel leapt between them, causing Bjorn to take a step backward in confusion. She shook her head left and right slowly. A warning, as if to draw a line in the snow that she dared him not to cross.

Bjorn’s disgust was immediate. “Birds of a feather,” he muttered. Casting judgment upon both her and Ulfr alike. Hel bared her teeth. This made Bjorn take one step closer to her, causing Hel to snap at the air in his direction, desperation laced with dread, “Don’t make me do it... Please.” Bjorn allowed his eyes to explore Hel from top to bottom, but a cry carried down from above snapped the two of them back into focus. It was Ylva and her sorrow surged through the forest raw and terrified. Bjorn didn’t hesitate. He turned and climbed, driven solely by Ylva’s plea for help. Even as he fell he clambered back on all fours and scrambled upward desperately. Alongside it a gut-wrenching cry from Freyja made your stomach drop.

Hel stayed behind. She turned to Ulfr, still nearly lifeless and spoke again. This time her words were meant only for him, but spoken only after an enchantment that eased his breathing and softened the tremor in his limbs. With her muzzle placed gently beside Ulfr’s ear Hel whispered, “May we both find a path forged only by our future,” Hel glanced up at you now as she paused, “and one that sees us free of our past.”

Ulfr’s eyes opened weakly, unfocused but in an attempt to be present, and only then did he give into the relief Hel offered him. His eyes collapsed closed as he fell into a peaceful slumber. All he could think about was the warmth the sun offered him, free of the rot, free of the pain. Free of whatever sorrow weighed so heavily on him that he might lose his way willingly into the dark of death. Here he rested, for the first time since he could remember. Here a kindness was offered to him that he would never forget, a debt he would never fully repay.

Stay tuned for the next Storybook prompt!

Be mindful this phase of Storybook concludes on 12/30/2025 | 11:59:59PM IST

2025-12-24 04:52:18

As of 4:49am on Christmas Eve, the Hearthlight has reached its Overall BONUS Goal.
Tier III — The Hearth’s Embrace — is now fully stocked.

Hel is grateful for the efforts poured into the Hearthlight. Contributions will remain open for the remainder of Feltide, and once the season draws to a close, she will bestow rewards to all who contributed within each tier, along with the reveal of her bonus prize.

Safe travels, friend and Happy Feltide.

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