"Coming around the bend, Pieter found the warm glow of the inn's windows a welcome sight. This deep into the forest the days seemed shorter, the shadows thicker, and he didn't like the queer buzzing he'd caught now and again. At night the insects almost seemed to chant murmured blasphemies and his dreams had been haunted by distorted figures cavorting about his slumbering form. By contrast, the sweet voice drifting from the building comforted Pieter and drew him like a moth to a flame. What he really needed as a soft bed on which to rest his head. With a stomach full of fine food and maybe even some feminine company he'd sleep like a baby. The traveler let out a sigh of relief as he studied the sign. It depicted a mulberry bush dotted by bees. "How quaint," he thought and his smile grew wider. Pieter entered the Milberry Inn and Tavern. That was the last anyone saw of him." Encounter Premise: A Waning Cult has turned an abandoned roadh

While a scion oversees the hierarchy of a waning cult it falls on a rushlight chanter to tend to the spiritual needs of its members. Often clad in revealing, flowing clothing the chanters always have a glow of health to them. Charismatic and energetic, most find a rushlight chanter hard to resist. Thus, they prime recruiters for cult and often cultivate contacts outside of it. Behind the mask, however, lurks a corrupted heart on which direfly larvae suckle. Foul Beacon. Unlike the rest of the waning cult the direflies infesting a rushlight chanter never mature. Instead, the larvae burrow into the bard's core. The fey insects reshape the sternum and ribs into a honeycombed network around the heart and enter into a state of permanent hibernation around the muscle. The slumbering larvae grow fat and infuse the singer's body with an otherworldly radiance; rushlight. Now offically a rushlight chanter the bard can channel the mad energies of the feywild and allow it to flow thro

A collection of meat-colored brambles, thorns, and leaves the gorsehound stands as tall as a mastiff. While it is canine in shape the gorsehound’s roots resemble pigs’s hooves, it's skull that of a humanoid. Throughout its body bitter fruits grow, bursting with necrotic energy Death Dealers. Grown from the corpse of someone sacrificed by the cult and fed to a deadwood tree, a gorsehound is watered with suffering and death. Upon blooming, it seeks to inflict exactly both on others. The skull of the victim comprises the head of the gorsehound, sallow light burning within empty sockets. A gorsehound always attacks the weakest, most-injured prey first. Unkempt Growth. The gorsehound loathes the members of a waning cult as much as it does everything else. However, it is bound to the will of the cult's waning scion. Without this high priest to control it the gorseman will run rampant, tearing apart whatever it can get its hooves on. Gorsehound Mediu

Fashioned from a felled deadwood tree, a carver is a malignant construct utilized by a waning cult to terrorize in the general populace and assassinate their enemies. A rough imitation of a human, the carver resembles an adult-sized doll with a sinister, static smile and a cleaver to match. Silent Slasher. Nearly silent, the carver only makes noise when it chooses. It does not need to breathe. Its joints move with little creaking. On catlike footfalls, it stalks its victims but waits until the unlucky soul notices it before striking. Once the carver tastes fear the flare of its dire gaze locks the creature in place and the cleaver hacks it to pieces. Fiery Core. Instead of a heart a direfly hive perpetually burns within the carver's chest. This animating magic wanes the longer a carver goes without committing murder. If the construct goes too long without spilling blood it falls into a dormant state until a fresh victim appears. Even then it may wait for weeks watching th

Sometimes an acute infestation of direflies re-animates trees as terrifying deadwoods. Now a mobile host for the fae parasites, deadwoods steadily become a wicked weald the unwary enter and never leave. Endlessly rotting, a deadwood first appears the be a hulking husk of gnarled branches, sickly leaves, and thorny roots. When it senses prey a jaundiced glow oozes from ruptured knots, roots pull from fallow earth, and branches strive to crush the living. Vile Resource. Fey of the Waning Court prize deadwood trees above all others. The wood, already infused with abominable magic, is easy for the withered folk to mold into weapons and tools. Skilled artisans go even further and carve terrible constructs from the violate lumber. Even those not of the fae prized Deadwood for its magical properties and use it for destructive wands, weapon hilts, and the ilk. Deadwood Huge plant, Chaotic Evil Armor Class 16 (natural armor) Hi

Sometimes a waning cult feeds unbelievers to an established direfly hive. This results in an undulating mass of tortured meat and hollowed bones that is ever-eager to consume even more offerings. Blood honey oozes from its gummy, porous flesh. Random body parts jut from the fleshy morass as they are slowly broken down and added to the sloughing structure. Unstable Icons. A honeycombed horror quickly becomes an object of veneration for the cultists. Problems arise, however, where there are no more infidels to sacrifice and willing libations have run out. The horror's hunger is never satisfied and it will devour those that once adored it, smash free of its confines, and seek fresh flesh. Honeycombed Horror Large Ooze, Chaotic Evil Armor Class 8 Hit Points 105(10d10+50) Speed 20ft Climb 30ft Str 19 Dex 6 Con 20 Int 8 Wis 8 Cha 3 Damage Immunities

Assembled from the bones of failed warlocks and the skull of a dire wolf, a rachis lantern is animated by crackling lightning within the grisly housing. Its bones suffer sylvan runes and are polished to a glossy sheen. Small direfly hives grow in clusters here and there across the construct and creeping vines bind the bones' magic together. The profile of a typical rachis lantern resembles a hulking canine with skeletal human hands for paws. Deceptive Ambiance. When at rest a rachis lantern may be easily mistaken for a freakish statue and are often used as waning cult icons. More than mere decorations the sentinels keep a silent vigil until stirred into action. Some dark fey also employ them as hunting hounds or ornamentation for their alien estates. The Price of Failure. A Waning Prince always refers to a lantern by the name of the newest 'disappointment' flayed and added to its frame. After all, one can only bother to remember the name of a displeasing 'pet&#

Diabolical Leader: While the Waning Princes are happy to grant madmen patronage for amusement’s sake they reserve true power for deviants with a streak of narcissism and megalomania. They invest these individuals not only arcane might but implant direfly eggs into their very marrow. After a month of agony, from one waning moon to the next, the warlock becomes a waning scion; a living hive and high priest combined. The scion controls their cult through charisma, debauchery, and violence when needed. To outsiders, however, they model themselves as town elders or wise recluses. At least, until their flock grows large enough. Then they usurp local authority and work to bring their patron’s armies to the material plane. Sniveling Slave: However, a scion is merely a mortal and the dark fey never let them forget this fact. To a Waning Prince these cult leaders are treated like a favored pet, at least as long as they keep the otherworldly noble happy and entertained. A waning scion always

These are the rank and file members of a waning cult. Some joined for the excitement and excess, others for the sake of power, and a few the desire to serve something greater. In short order, the psyche of most waning cultists is broken thanks to the constant whispers that comes with exposure to direfly hives. With this madness comes a single-mindedness to serve the will of the cult at all costs. Waning Cultist Medium humanoid, lawful evil Armor Class 11 (leather armor) Hit Points 27(5d8+5) Speed 30ft Str 13 Dex 10 Con 13 Int 10 Wis 10 Cha 12 Senses blindsight 30ft, passive Perception 10 Languages Common Challenge 1/2 (100 XP) Fanatical Will The waning cultist has advantage on Wisdom and Charisma saving throws. Actions Multiattack. The cultist can make 3 dagger attacks p

Harbingers of the Waning Court. Direflies infest locales where the dark fey roam and eventually build hives within trees and mortals alike. These alien insects are slightly larger than a hornet, clad in blood-red chitin with jaundice light seeping from their abdomen. Upon close inspection, the mouths behind prominent mandibles are almost human complete with tiny teeth. Overwhelming Infestation. Swarms of direflies cannot exist long on prime material planes without a home. They need to carve out hives and produce noxious blood honey for sustenance. First direflies bore honeycombs into dying trees. When a Waning Cult forms in the local populace the strongest swarms find new homes in these madmen. They slice out honeycomb structures in the supplicant’s flesh and bone. Once an area is corrupted enough direflies bore into innocent victims next. Maddening Whisperer . Instead of the typical buzz insects produce a swarm of direflies emits a chorus of baleful murmurings. The echo of a s

"When the air grows chill and the leaves lose their luster be wary of a jaundiced glow between the trees. Listen not to the whispers carried on the wings of crimson crawlers, or honeyed promises dripping from the lips of kindly strangers. For in autumn the veil between worlds thins and the princes of drizzle, rot, and nightmare seek the fealty of foolish hearts. Their edicts arrive on thunderclaps, their favor is as fleeting as lighting. It is the season of the Waning Princes. The wise do not draw their gaze." Pitch The Waning Court are evil fey who embody autumn: storms, harvest, rot, fear, and an encroaching chill. These fickle creatures busy themselves with petty wars, perverse delights, and centuries-long machinations well waiting for their sire, The King Under Amber, to die. The Waning Princes view mortals as playthings and the material plane as a canvas for their twisted whimsies. Their beholden warlocks foster Waning Cults swelled with the disenfranchised and i