RP:Of Mythos and Willows
Summary: Kanna seeks Bradyn out at the Black Library, where he is gifted with some of her recently acquired Black Lotus seeds. The two speak of her current research efforts before the necrobotanist is tested, demonstrating her knowledge of poisons by creating a willow-sundew hybrid. Kanna is promoted to the rank of Sceleratus.
Black Library
As you climb down into this room its immense size is the first thing that strikes you. The old wooden ladder creaks unnervingly as your foot rests on it. This dimly lit room is huge and filled with dusty ancient bookshelves. On examination you can see the shelves are carved from solid black oak, strong, sturdy and known for its arcane properties. Lining every shelf is thousands of books of all colors, shapes and sizes. All the books appear to be about necromancy and black magic and thus the whole subterranean chamber is filled with a most ominous evil aura that seems to sicken right to the soul of any who enter. The smell here is of stagnation for not much fresh air reaches this place; it seems to invade the nostrils like some strange miasma adding to the sickly sensations the room seems to invoke. On the walls hang various ornaments from candle stick holders that bring a tiny tinge of light to certain areas and preserved skulls of all kinds of creatures from Human to Dragon, Drow to Centaur and things even stranger than that. Faint but heavy footsteps can be heard against the cold stone floor distantly so it would be wise not to stay too long without sound reason.
Kanna :: To those who wished to hide away from the world or indulge themselves in their studies, the Black Library was a haven. Members of the Necromancer’s Guild who usually wished to study uninterrupted would hide themselves away in a side room with a pile of dusty books with an enchantment set to keep the catacombs’ guardian away. As such, it was an unwritten rule that those stepping foot into the library’s foyer be quiet as a courtesy to any other patrons. Since that rule was unwritten, Kanna had not learned it and had no need to pay attention to it. A glaring contrast to the dark, muted colors of the room, the self-proclaimed bardic necrobotanist is dressed in a blouse and skirt of sunflower yellow with a bodice of a soft brown. A similarly bright ribbon holds the woman’s hair back as her heels click and echo throughout the library. “Bradyn~!” Kanna sings to the room, listening for some sort of tell tale sign that would give the other necromancer away. “I brought gifts~.” She says, rattling a vial of black lotus seeds. From within one of the side rooms, a vampiress sticks her head out from the curtains to give the bardess a dirty look, which the ghoul pretends not to see.
Bradyn :: The Black Library was always a good choice for those who for some reason might be seeking an audience with a rather cranky vampire. It was his favorite place to reside and he too was a fan of the quiet. Making a ruckus by singing his name into the room was a sure way to pull him out of whatever study niche he has holed himself into, but the greeting is not going to be a favorable one. Bradyn would manifest from shadows just behind Kanna, forcing the bardess to turn around if she wants to greet him properly. His voice will help to alert her of his presence, verbalizing the sentiments of the vampiress who is currently giving Kanna dirty looks. “It would serve you well to keep your voice at a respectable level while you are in this library.” Presumably, Kanna will turn. But Bradyn does not need to see her face to form judgements on this woman. His dark gray eyes are already scanning her from head to toe, but not in a leering ‘I find you attractive’ sort of way. He is judging her silently for her choice of attire, especially that hideously bright sunflower yellow skirt. The Maharan’s outfit was starkly contrast to Kanna’s. It was very rigid and formal. Nice black slacks, proper black dress shoes, and a pressed white shirt that is worn beneath a black waistcoat. He may not be the flashiest vampire lord, but his outfit was suitable enough for the title. Mistrusting as ever, “Is there a particular reason that you bring gifts, Miss….?” The miss is said less out of concern for manners and more because he is trying to get a proper introduction out of Kanna.
Kanna :: The bardess spins on the ball of her foot to face the man, her silvery curls gracefully spinning with her to whip a layer of dust from the side of the bookshelf the pair stand next to. “You do know that when you need to recall a spell the most, the person in front of you will not give you a quiet moment for recollection, don’t you?” Kanna quips at the vampire with a coy smile, though her voice is lowered as she says so. The judgemental glance at her bright clothes is ignored as blissfully as the vampiress, who retreats behind the curtain with Bradyn’s appearance. Kanna holds up the vial and gives it another shake, causing the latent magic stored within the seeds to release an ominous violet glow for just a moment. Extending the gift to him, she answers, “Kanna. No surname, though you’re more than welcome to give me yours.” The practiced flirt comes as easily as if she were telling the man his suit was black, though the coy smile she gives seems to indicate she knows that would happen as soon as humans took over Vailkrin. “I’d like to borrow some of your time to see whether this book on undead I have found is based on fact or fiction.” The reason for her visit is finally stated, accentuated with a pat of her pocket, where the worn leather spine of a small book can be seen.
Bradyn :: If the Maharan male could tell that Kanna was flirting with him, he was not about to show it. This could be due to his extremely stoic nature, or it could be due to the fact that Kanna has a vial of something interesting that she is wiggling right in front of him. It glows ominously, which only intrigues him further. “If you had not already found your way into a state of undeath,” or so the necromancer senses rather than sees, “Then I am sure we could have entertained discussions about you becoming a member of House Mahara.” Just. Not. Through. Marriage. It seems that the Maharan has opted to respond to these flirtations with the most literal and business-like reaction he could think of. And as he is doing this? He is reaching out toward the vial to collect it from Kanna, if she would let him. Manners were not always something that he cared about, but he usually attempted to afford them to those in the Necromancers’ Guild. Kanna has not yet managed to have this right revoked. If Kanna hands the vial over, Bradyn is going to inspect the object curiously before tucking it safely away into the pocket of his jacket. Whatever the end result, the Maharan will take a moment to let his storm-colored eyes traverse around the room. “I suppose the polite thing to do would be for us to locate a more reserved part of the library so that we can speak freely without causing upset.” Regardless of the connection that the Black Library has to the Necromancers’ Guild, House Mahara still claims the title of patrons of the Black Library. Bradyn has a private study, of course, and Kanna was about to see it. The decor was in par with the rest of the library, the study had a desk area and a small sitting area.
Kanna :: “Black lotus seeds. Be careful not to open them in the presence of any mortal while they’re glowing, as they seem to have a near-perfect germination rate due to their imbued maleficent energies from its’ creator, and will absolutely break through skin and tissue.” She warns with a dismissive wave as she allows the necromancer to examine them. “I want to line the front of the Vailkrin cemetery’s gates with them as a less labor-intensive form of defense in case the portals are ever compromised, and cover them in some sort of mesh material that will allow the plants air to grow, but will only release the spores into the air when the cover is lifted.” The ghoul chatters idly, though her voice remains at a respectable indoor level. The book is pulled from her pockets. The tome is significantly smaller than most of the books in the library, fitting neatly in the palm of her hand not unlike the small thick-paged books given to children. Kanna carefully flips through the delicate pages with the end of her nail as they enter the gothic study. “Finding a material like that seems to have been a fun project for Quintessa so far, at least.” She finishes her first set of rambling as she takes a seat on one of the ottomans. “This book comes from the Royal Library of Enchantment-- not stolen, I need to return it by midsummer, but I will transcribe it so we can have a copy here-- and it details a supposed incident from the age of the dragon wars.” She holds out the open pages for Bradyn to see for himself. The small book is in pristine condition given its caretakers, but is very clearly dated from the curled ends of the parchment. Each page seems to have been at some point removed from its binding, dipped into a clear resin to preserve it, and re-affixed with bindings made of braided dragon whiskers. The text, however, is in the old Elven language, a language the Pixies of Enchantment shared with the elves of Kelay before humans made Common the standard trading language. An illustration beneath the text shows a skeletal figure in a cloak with a halo around its head holding the hands of two Pixies in each of its phalanges. The Pixies appear to be identical, save for the fact that one has sunken eyes and a slack jaw, while the other has no feet, the universal symbolism of a ghoul and a spirit.
Bradyn was the sort who managed to keep his true emotions hidden under a mask of apathy but he is not able to hide his curiosity when Kanna informs him that he should be careful with these seeds around mortals while they are glowing. Was he going to ask what might happen? No. Finding out first hand seemed much more amusing to him. He would not outright say this to Kanna, she’d have nothing but his expression to judge his thoughts on. Except she goes on to show him another project that she is working on, a book that Bradyn does not reach out to claim from her. It’s not due to a lack of interest, but because it is clearly an old object that should be handled carefully and by as minimal number of people as possible. At least in his view, but he had an intense love for books. He would instead look with his eyes, admiring the parts that Kanna deemed worth showing him. The Maharan could not identify the materials of the book, nor was he familiar with the elven language. Maybe one day he would take that up. Either way, it was still of interest to him. “Both are worthy projects and I would be curious to see the end results of both. Especially the book, once you have finished the transcription.” With so little to say in response, it might be natural to assume that Bradyn was not interested or impressed at all. Yet despite that obnoxious yellow outfit, it seemed Kanna has managed to impress the Maharan enough for him to make the following assertion. “You have been with the guild a considerable amount of time and have clearly accomplished much with your studies. Plus you have demonstrated that you can also use your abilities in combat as well, winning numerous duels very recently. In my personal opinion, testing you for a promotion based on what I have seen and what I have heard seems superfluous, but for the sake for fairness and formality...I believe it is high time that we conduct this test. Unless you would refuse.” Unwise. Bradyn would surely judge.
Kanna :: Bradyn’s minimal comments regarding the book seem to ruffle the undead woman as she tries to elaborate further. “This is a reference to Vakmatharas being present outside the Realm of Gods to influence the lives of mortals.” Only after gauging his expression again does she realize that the language is unfamiliar to him as well. There is a pause and a change in expression as the Mahran’s proposition is put forth. Kanna locks her eyes onto his, considering the offer for a test. “Before my answer, entertain me on this just a bit longer. The way this bit of lore was explained to me was that a dark knight that sought to aid Vakmatharas in his harvest of souls killed a pixie priestess that was also his worshipper. Her lover was so distraught at her death that she interfered with her ceremonial burning to attempt to revive her corpse using the magic of a mysterious being who claimed to do what Vakmatharas could not. This was one of the earliest records of necromancy in pixie culture.” Kanna tucks a lock of her behind her ear before she turns the page to show another illustration of an empty village square with dark stains. “The corpse rose, but devoured her lover and those who attended her passing as if possessed; much like the creatures in Cenril today. Vakmatharas himself was so enraged by the treatment of the priestess at the end of her life and by the improper use of necromancy on her corpse that he descended from the Realm of Gods and brought the priestess back to life to complete her tenure, then left in search of the being that had corrupted her lover.” Satisfied with her re-telling of the story, the weathered book is carefully closed again. “If I were to become a Scleratus, then I would be allowed to access the non-public section of the Library without needing another member’s supervision, correct?” A smile graces the undead woman’s lips. “I do think that would help with transcribing and determining whether this legend is based in reality or not, so I see no reason to refuse your test. Ultimately, I want to know if there is any chance of creating a ritual more powerful than re-animation, one that could not only put a soul into a vessel, but... to make that vessel alive again.”
Bradyn :: The fact that he has managed to ruffle Kanna in the slightest is lost to Bradyn. He is quite emotionally stunted and his lack of realization is made worse because it was unintentional. This time. The fact that she wants to continue to speak of the book serves him just well for two reasons. The first, if Kanna were to take any sort of test some slight preparations would need to be made and hearing her out gave the needed time to make them. Obviously, they were not being made by him and he has not been seen conversing with anyone but the Maharan has his ways. Ther second being that he does have a genuine interest in this topic, even if he is and will continue to fail to make this obvious. Kanna will clearly have every ounce of Bradyn’s attention at the moment, even if his face is stuck with a permanent look of apathy. “I was not sure how much of this book you understood as of yet.” Kanna is correct in assuming that Bradyn can read none of it. “But your explanation only reaffirms my stance that this is a very worthwhile project. I would still be interested to be updated as you transcribe the book…” It is not really clear if Bradyn believes that there is any truth to the ritual, yet he was not about to stop Kanna from this research topic. There might be more to her than her yellow dress initially led the jerk-Bradyn to believe. “When you pass your test and reach the rank of Scleratus,” yes, when, not if, “You will indeed have more access to the books within the Black Library. However, if there is anything that I come across that you may not have access to that I think may serve your research endeavors well, then I take no issue with sharing it.” Nor would he if Quintessa saw fit to do the same. “The idea is less that we are trying to deny knowledge and more that we are trying to prevent reckless practice.” Necromancy is a dangerous art. “And if there are expenses incurred during your research, I can say with certainty that the guild would be willing to cover them.” There need to be some perks that are associated with being in the Necromancer’s Guild, yes? Bradyn takes a moment to consider, trying really hard to actually consider manners and the social graces that most people wish he would display on a more regular basis. Was he missing anything? The Maharan finally gives in to decency and just asks, “Is there anything else that you wish to speak of before we begin?”
Kanna’s shoulders seem to drop in a show of relaxation, or perhaps relief. Whereas the guild’s leader could hold the ultimate poker face, Kanna wore her emotions as brightly as a faceless shapeshifter trying on a recently stolen expression. “I’m glad you think this is a worthwhile research project. I need little projects like this for the dead of night when all my mortal friends are dreaming.” She says as she carefully fits the relic back into a pocket. “Of course, you are more than welcome to come by the Black Fortress to check on the progress, or if you would like a change of scenery over a cup of blood wine.” This is not said in her usual teasing manner, but with a grateful smile. “Now then, where are we going for this exam?”
Bradyn :: It is unclear how Bradyn feels about the invitation to visit Quintessa’s fortress; the man attempts to keep his expression devoid of emotion. The offer is met with a stern nod, though it is unclear if Bradyn actually means to take her up on the invitation or if he is just mustering up some amount of politeness for the sake of the social situation. However, he has never been to the fortress and the research does intrigue him, so the chances of him making a visit are likely. For now, the Maharan male focuses on the test. “We’re not leaving, the test will be coming to us.” As if in cue, a woman enters Bradyn’s office space. She is pushing a cart that is laden with a variety of glass jars that are filled with a variety of plant specimens along with three that remain potted and living, in case Kanna prefers a fresh cutting. The Mahran female takes her leave immediately after the delivery. None of the current samples that are being presented to Kanna are labeled, she will have to demonstrate her knowledge of them by making the proper selections. “Given your participation in the Titans of Winter earlier this year, I am not interested in testing you in combat. My understanding is that you have been excelling in the area of Potions and Poisons and have taken a liking to the title of Necrobotanist. So, demonstrate your knowledge to me. Create something out of the samples that I have provided to you. There is no right answer to this test, the wrong answer would be a failed creation...or a creation that has no connection to necromancy.” A pause. “Damaging my office or the books in the library in any way will result in an automatic failure.” Even if the concoction is a work of brilliance. “So if we will need to step outside of a demonstration once you have finished, then we will need to step outside.”
Kanna :: The woman pushing the cart is given a polite nod in greeting and departure by the testee. “Let’s take a looksie…” She murmurs to herself as one by one, the jars of preserved specimens are reviewed. Some were more obvious than others. “Digitaria, paspalum, mmm…” These jars are dismissively pushed into the top right corner of the sample tray. The next few are given a tentative sniff and either placed with the rejected samples, or put aside on the upper left-hand corner of the tray. “Fragaria moschata, pandan root, dragonheart, all too finicky outside of culinary use… oh, the baker might like these, though!” These are set aside on Bradyn’s desk. A spray bottle containing a clear substance is given a tentative dip of the pinky and dab of the tongue. The result is nearly instantaneous as the spot on her tongue turns black and sinks down, releasing a thin contrail of smoke along with it. With the powers of her patron coursing through her, the injury quickly heals itself. An amused smile graces her features for a moment as she sets it aside. Perhaps a trap set aside in case she was careless and decided to spray a concoction with what she assumed to be water? Kanna doubted that a test like this would have pitfalls in it designed to make her fail, but the idea of it being possible was entertaining nonetheless. Once every jar and potted plant is examined, two plant samples, a fungus sample, and a potted sapling are selected for her creation. As one hand lays the contents of the jar on the sample tray, her other hand’s fingers curl in and on themselves repeatedly, as if testing some sort of motion. “Hm. Actually.” Looking at one of the saplings set aside on Bradyn’s desk, she picks one of the budding fruits and puts it with her collection.
Kanna :: The items she has chosen only include one truly poisonous plant: a deep red puffball mushroom that looks similar to the red berry next to it. A soft green glow surrounds the mushroom as she gingerly picks it up, being careful not to trigger the spores to release inside the study. The smooth surface puckers with dark spots, and gives a soft sheen on the remaining surface, until the mushroom gains a mimicked appearance to the wildberry on the desk. “That’ll do nicely.” She smiles with a tilt of the head as she carefully places it back down. Next, a jar with the dried leaves of a carnivorous plant are removed and held up to the sapling. With a faint glow, the sapling seems to absorb the leaves, then the mock-fruit held up to it. For all intents and purposes, the willow sapling appears unchanged, save for the shimmering red buds at the tip of the leaves. “For my demonstration, I will need a volunteer, and I’d like to plant this at the edge of the graveyard where we have other willow trees.” With a smile and tone as innocent as though she were ordering coffee, Kanna asks of Bradyn, “Can you please have someone fetch the prisoner in Quintessa’s possession for execution?”
Kanna :: At the far end of the graveyard where a decorative statue perhaps once stood at Vailkrin’s peak, Kanna scoops out some of the damp earth with her bare hand. The creation is placed into the hole, and the ghoul stands and steps back. Kanna takes a breath and sings, “Creatures kissing in the rain, shapeless in the dark again. In the hanging garden please don't speak, in the hanging garden no one sleeps... In the hanging garden, in the hanging garden…” As she sings the ominous melody, the tree gives a soft glow of pale magic. Twisting and turning, the willow tree grows to the height of the pair’s knees. In the blink of an eye, it is as tall as Bradyn, then the height of the mausoleum. Footsteps approach as a Mahran servant drags a sobbing and shackled man up to the pair. “I promise, I promise I’ll never…” He chokes out as Kanna steps up to him. There is a wide smile on her face, and she gives a tilt of her head. “Why are you crying? I’m letting you go.” The prisoner stares at Kanna in disbelief, glancing at the stoic vampire behind her for confirmation. Kanna cannot see his expression, but she is sure Bradyn remains perfectly stoic. “All you have to do is eat this fruit.” The man hesitates, looking at the willow tree. The willow’s leaves brush against the ground, completely still in the moonlight. Garnet fruits blossom out from the boughs like small imitations of Ahr’Nuk above. Tentatively, the prisoner plucks a berry and holds it up to his lips. He tries to take a small bite of the fruit, but instead of sweetness, the skin gives way to a near-hollow inside that spurts spores outward. The man gives a gasp, accidentally breathing it in. The effect of the ‘berry’ is immediate, as he coughs violently, splattering blood onto the ground. “I’m impressed you were able to get a sample of Talybeckian puffball mushrooms. While inside the Jersher kingdom, these are harmless, but when they’re grown on any soil outside, the mushrooms accumulate anhydrous ammonia to the point of being near bursting. Altering them to look like wild edible willowberries, those who try to pluck them trigger the puffballs to pop due to pressure. Since the berries will usually be near the victim’s nose and mouth, the compound inside seeks out water, of which there is the most in the throat and vocal chords. Once the chemical interacts with moisture, it becomes a very potent poison. If the blood absorption of the poison does not kill them instantly, the victim will likely asphyxiate on their own blood. Calling for help is usually not a problem, as vocal chords are one of the first organs destroyed.” Kanna explains methodically as the prisoner gasps for breath. He stumbles backwards into the branches of the willow tree, triggering the second part of this living trap. The prisoner gives a hoarse scream as the willow tree reveals the underside of its branches. In place of the smooth leaves facing outwards, the underside is covered in sticky filaments that wrap around the source of their disturbance. “Catching haloes on the moon gives my hands the shapes of angels, in the heat of the night the animals scream, in the heat of the night walking into a dream.” Kanna taunts the man in his final moments by continuing the song. A deep red substance oozes from the filaments, eating away at the shackles and rags the man wears. The prisoner’s mouth remains open in an agonized scream, but now only blood and a wheeze of air comes out in place of a scream, the branches curl upwards, lifting him off the ground as the digestive poisons eat away at his skin. Kanna claps her hands together and steps forward, pointing at the leaves without touching them. “This is a willow-sundew hybrid. Because the Talybeckian mushrooms are inside the structure of the willow itself to regrow as needed, the same anhydrous ammonia compound is liquified inside the tree, mixed with sap. The sundew is a carnivorous plant, requiring no magic to be activated or imprinted to trigger its feeding mechanism. Any would-be thieves or intruders that do not take the forbidden fruit, but think they can use the leaf cover as a hiding place would become quick plant food due to the liquified poison being excreted from the filaments. If my theory is right, it will be about ten minutes before he is fully stripped of muscle and organs. The skeleton will be left near the base of the tree, where it can then be easily re-animated for later use. To retrieve the skeletons safely or stop the process…” Kanna steps around where the victim hangs to a cloaked area of the tree. With the spray bottle that had burned a hole in Kanna’s tongue, she sprays the branches generously. Leaves blacken and curl in on themselves, and the faux-berries turn brown before falling to the ground, revealing a nice entryway. “This will grow back within a day or so.” With a tilt of her head, bright eyes fixed on Bradyn, the necrobotanist clasps her hands together. “Is this a suitable application of my poisons knowledge?”
Bradyn watches Kanna's every move, making absolutely no attempt to busy himself so that he's not making her uncomfortable by hoovering. The Maharan is hardly surprised that the necrobotanist is easily able to identify most if not all of the specimens that he has offered to her during this test. He is, however, mildly surprised at her treatment of some of of the samples, some are sniffed and then one is outright tasted. "Were it anyone else," the Maharan comments as she dabs a bit of that questionable and clear liquid sample to her tongue, "You would probably be dead." What sort of necromancer would he be if there was not some level of awareness of her ghoulish nature? Bradyn falls silent after this statement is made, leaving the bardic woman to complete her test without distraction. While the Maharan strives to remain devoid of emotion, surprise does briefly flicker through the man's stormy gray eyes at her request. She needed a volunteer? The fact that Quintessa has a prisoner for execution is less shocking to him. He always had a hunch that there was more to the changeling than she opted to let on during their conversations. "It will be done," the Maharan says in response. “Shall we then?” The question is rhetorical, the vampire does not wait for confirmation before walking with Kanna out of the Black Library and toward the graveyard.
Bradyn :: When Bradyn and Kanna arrive at the graveyard, they are not alone. Waiting for them is a party of three that is made up of the same vampiric woman that Kanna saw earlier, the one that wheeled in that cart of test samples. With her is the prisoner that Kanna had requested and also a member of Quintessa’s court. Someone had to make sure this prisoner was actually being summoned for the reasons that Kharis (vampire woman) said that he was needed for, it would be bad practice to just allow a stranger to whisk this prisoner off. When all seems to be well, the two that escorted this poor unfortunate soul to Bradyn and Kanna make their exit, leaving the prisoner to suffer whatever fate Kanna has planned for him. Bradyn watches Kanna, at first with a stoic expression held on his face...that is, until he hears her singing. Even if the necrobotanist possesses a very lovely singing voice, Bradyn cannot help the look of dismay that crosses his features. At least the song was not a particularly chipper and upbeat one. Was there anything in this world that the necromancer enjoyed outside of his books? Kanna’s song is a short-lived one and so Bradyn’s dismay is quick to fade. The Maharan is back into his silent and brooding self as he watches Kanna prove her knowledge of poisons by coaxing this prisoner to consume the fruit she has created. There is not a single amount of guilt or remorse evident as the prisoner gasps for breath only to fall back into the tree, where he ends up stuck within the second part of the trap that Kanna has invented. Bradyn was almost enjoying watching this fool meet his end, that is until Kanna taunts her victim with another few lines of a song. This time he does not allow his dismay to become evident on his facade, even if she was ruining a perfectly delectable moment for him. While the Maharan is not doing much in the way of speaking, he is certainly giving Kanna his full attention. The male takes a few steps closer to the willow-sundew hybrid so that he can better observe if her estimation was correct; he was trying to see if he could discern any noticeable decay. It did not matter to him if the process ended up taking more than ten minutes. When Bradyn finally speaks, his eyes remain on the now dead prisoner, “You are setting him free? I do not think that death is the freedom that he was hoping for...but I suppose that you did not technically lie.” Bradyn’s gray eyes transfer from the decaying man and back to Kanna for only a short second. “You have more than demonstrated sufficient knowledge of poisons. Congratulations, you have now reached the rank of Sceleratus. Please keep me apprised of your research efforts for they will surely count toward you reaching the rank of Thanadule.” There is a brief pause. “Do you have any further questions for me?” Kanna’s answer would determine how quickly Bradyn would get to return to his precious library and his beloved books.
Kanna’s smile widens at the inkling of praise from Bradyn. “I will write to you if I have any questions during my research; I think I’ve distracted you from your work long enough.” The tree’s branches unravel sooner then expected, leaving a skeleton with a faint reddish tint to its bones. The bardic necrobotanist kneels and runs a finger over the skeleton to see if the residue is a permanent mark of those who meet this tree’s fate. “I didn’t lie, no. If the experiment was a failure, I would have let him live under strict supervision.” Her smile softens, though it still remains ominous under the twin moons as she glances back up at Bradyn’s departing figure. “The world is just a slightly safer place with some people gone.”