The Diseased World Tree

The Tower

The World Tree is not so much a tower as it is a vertical ecosystem. Rising from the heart of Sylvanthal, its trunk is so massive that entire chambers have been carved within it over millennia. Its branches once touched the stars, its roots once drank from the primordial waters that existed before the world took shape.

Now those branches wither and blacken. Those roots pump corruption instead of life. And within the hollow trunk, something grows that should never have existed.

History

The elves believe the World Tree was the first living thing, planted by the gods themselves at the moment of creation. All other trees, they say, are its descendants—seeds scattered by winds older than time itself. The tree gave freely of its magic, and in return, the elves protected it.

For eons, this relationship flourished. The elves lived in harmony with the tree, taking only what it offered, never demanding more. The tree blessed them with immortality, and they blessed it with their devotion.

No one knows when the corruption began. Some say it started with a single diseased root that touched something foul deep beneath the earth. Others claim a betrayer among the elves deliberately infected the tree. A few whisper that the corruption was always there, dormant, waiting for the right moment to bloom.

What everyone agrees on is that by the time the elves noticed, it was already too late.

Floors

Floors 1-5: The Rotting Roots

The entrance to the World Tree lies among its corrupted root system. What was once a network of life-giving vessels is now a maze of decay. Pools of tainted sap block passages, and creatures that were once forest animals have been twisted into something predatory and wrong.

Floors 6-10: The Hollow Trunk

Chambers carved by ancient elves now serve as battlegrounds. The walls weep corrupted sap that burns like acid. Blight-touched animals and corrupted plant creatures defend their territory with mindless ferocity. The air itself is toxic, requiring careful preparation to survive.

Floors 11-15: The Canker Heart

The deepest point of corruption within the trunk, where the infection has created entirely new forms of life—if they can be called that. Fungi that think, vines that hunt, and things that might once have been elves but have been so thoroughly transformed that no kinship remains.

Floors 16-20: The Twisted Branches

The disease has reshaped the tree's interior into impossible geometries. Branches spiral inward, creating chambers that exist in multiple places simultaneously. The creatures here have adapted to this strange space, making them particularly dangerous to fight.

Floors 21-24: The Crown of Thorns

What was once the tree's flowering crown is now a nightmare of thorns and poison. The corruption is strongest here, having had the longest to take hold. Every surface is covered in barbs that deliver doses of the blight to any who touch them.

Floor 25: The Heart Chamber

At the absolute center of the World Tree, where its life force was once strongest, the Blighted One waits. This chamber pulses with a sickly light, and the walls themselves seem to breathe with a rhythm that is almost, but not quite, like a heartbeat.

The Blighted One

No one knows what the Blighted One was before the corruption took it. Some believe it was an elf who entered the tree to heal it and was consumed instead. Others think it is the corruption itself, given form and will. A few claim it is the tree's own spirit, driven mad by the infection.

What is certain is that the Blighted One is powerful beyond measure. It commands the corruption as an extension of its own body, able to reshape the tower at will. It speaks in a voice like rustling leaves and offers bargains that seem reasonable until the consequences become clear.

Defeating the Blighted One will not cure the World Tree—the corruption has spread too far for that. But it might slow the disease enough for the elves to find another solution. Maybe.

Atmosphere

The World Tree feels alive in a way that no building ever could—because it is alive, even if that life has been twisted into something wrong. The walls pulse with a slow rhythm. Sounds echo strangely through the living wood. And everywhere, there is the smell of growth and decay mixed together, the scent of something being born and dying at the same time.

"The tree gave us life. Now it gives us only questions—and those who go seeking answers rarely return." — Elder Faenith, warning young adventurers