Nicodragon
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Summary
There is a particular forest most people talk about in trepidation. It extends along the edge of a sprawling valley and seems harmless, but unnerving shadows cling to gnarled trees and its hollow silence creeps like wraiths awaiting doom. The forest is cursed, tavernfolk warn. It determines who gets to survive in its domain based on rules known to none, and rarely, very rarely, does a person survive, only to never speak about the place again. It is alive in more ways than one can say, and it chooses.
On the night a knight staggered into its depths, the trees made room.