He had stumbled long without success, but he must walk the path for no one else stepped forward to do so. And the path must be walked.
On the 6th day of his journey, as he walks the green mists, losing his way farther, he hears a cackle. From the shadows walks a figure, one that seems unwelcome at first, but one unwelcome figure is better than no one at all. He will learn the wisdom it brings.
The figure is a hag of night. A planar hunter, a corrupt devourer of dreams and memories. A shaman does not wish to barter with the likes of her, but a shaman has no choice.
"Mother Night." he spoke softly. "A supplicant comes before you in search of wisdom. One wishing to rid the wilds of this alien taint."
The Hag cackles in reply; "You wish to end this beautiful paradise of shadows and ice?"
The Hags enjoy the dark and the corrupted paths, yet... the shaman had learned of their kind and puts that knowledge to use, turning it into living wisdom applied: "Mother Night. This may seem as paradise to you, yet, as the Unseele and the shadows seep farther into this world, who will wander into these woods? Who will be there for you to claim their dreams? Who will be there, to serve as meaty morsels and sate your appetites? Will you let others steal what was yours before?" The words seem to strike true, as the Night Hag ponders on the words. The shaman presses the opportunity and concludes with a prophecy: "This paradise will be your grave."
After a long while the Hag nods. She is Rivett, mother of night and she has the power to push back the corruption, or so she speaks. All that is needed is a life of a pure dryad, taken by force. The shaman nods, hearing her words. "Where is this dryad?" He asked.
"Walk north of here, towards the uncorrupted tree, untouched by taint. There is where the last dryad of these parts remains. Bring a lock of her hair to me, and the bark of her tree!"
"Thank you, mother Night, for wisdom imparted." The shaman turned his palm upwards, walking slowly towards her with a careful, slow stride. "I will venture north, but before, let me see you paid in full, for all you've done. For all your kind does. No deed goes unrewarded, and yours demand payment, long overdue!" he extended his hand, grabbing the Hag's shoulder, murmuring a spell as the hag realised his intent too late. She withered and crumbled to the ground under an infusion of negative energy. The shaman's parting gift.
---
So he walked north, the lone shaman, towards the tree and towards a dryad. Upon the tree lay remains of hexes that kept the dryad a prisoner, now broken. Hag magic. It was time to receive the reward from a wild-soul of the woods.
As the beautiful fey emerged from her tree, they spoke at length and the shaman learned of the source. A portal deep in the western parts of Cloakwood, beneath trees, remembering better times, ages long past. The path was clear.
Days passed and rainbow patterns rose over Cloakwood once more. On that day, the shaman visited the dryad once more, bringing news that already arrived. The woods will heal and the Unselee are gone from these parts. As payment, the shaman asked for only a name of the fey-soul and a single leaf of her tree.
--Thanks to DM Soulcatcher for a great event.