So this was my entry for the Fey challenge last month.
I have been trying out a few different styles in a more painterly approach (especially after being inspired by the works of Viking, Milan Vasek, and Naima's fresco. This particular style was a little different, with the colour and feel of it inspired by watching Spirited Away and other Ghibli films for the billionth time. Still working out techniques and process but enjoying doing it. May have to use something similar for when I finally return to my Guildworld map but until then I have an idea of starting a larger fan/tribute map after a certain someone got me back into the works of LeGuin...

As for specifics, the brushes used are here. The canvas was 8910*6300 which is far, far too large so was shrunk for the final image. After DimensionDoor asked on the Discord I did try and break down my process for the mountains here but again, still experimenting on the best way to approach things. I've definitely spotted several things I need to try differently and improve upon for next time.

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There are many tales of the Forest. Of the vale of patterns, of the great tree of beaconed gold. It is a great and shadowed place, that forest, stretching endlessly into madness. You may chance to stumble upon one of the many paths therein, great and terrible corridors carved by no hand of man or spirit. But the trails twist and wind in patterns unknown and changing and, should you walk blind, will lead only outward into despair.

Hope still remains though. Beyond the overbearing trees you may catch glimpse of a beacon of shattered gold, a promise of warmth, of light. And such guided striving will draw you to the Vale itself. Y Bryniau Patrymog it is called, the patterned hills, for upon the rising banks of grass and flower that bask in that glow, lie carved in chalk the aspects of beast and spirit. Should you chance to take time to wander through that dale, between the scattered pillars of stone that sprout upwards from the turf, you may catch sight of others in this place. They are fey and secretive and no indication of dwelling or settlement marks where they may live. But they are there, between the chalk, between the stones, and with a turn and a laugh they are quickly gone – to some place other, and beyond the Vale.

Rising high and treacherous, a great circling wall of peaks girdles the Vale’s heart. Of entrances, there are only two – carved and cut in a time long before. Between those great towering gates, the light of gold spills and dances ever out and leads you into Cwrtdôl, the meadowcourt. Here the folk of the vale dance in full raiment, leading the flowers and winds in a glorious movement of chorus. An etheric song of wind and voice lifts the air and heart in wonder.

And, lying at the heart of all, is Coeden Calon – the great tree, and the source of all light in this place. Its leaves are burnished with gold, its gilded bark refracting out the glinting warmth of its glow. An auric beacon of dawnlight stretches heavenward from its boughs to guide the lost and wandering. And, after much meandering, you may find time to rest among its roots, to sleep and join that peaceful dream, that endless dance, in that strange and patterned vale.
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Version without labels here.