The beauty of Blademoon Bloom was not lost on the half-elf priest cautiously navigating along the streams and down the flowery paths into the heart of the growth. The dangers inherent were not to be ignored, either.
Rhiswyn had already been warned about the large pink flowers that would emit a noxious gas to put someone to sleep, to await pick up by the botani. Fireflies moved in languid arcs through the air, focused around short pillars lining the pathways. In the shadows off the trail, mandragora hissed and splashed in the water. The air was thick and heady with floral smells and spore bursts, and the loamy scent of fertile earth.
Moons and planets glowed overhead, making the smooth road as brightly lit as any day. Rhiswyn lounged in the back of the trader’s wagon, enjoying the ride as she watched the sky. She had been wanting to see the Draakorium and its fey drakes for weeks now, and this time while her darling was off in Auchindoun seemed perfect for such distractions.
The wagon pulled up short, the talbuks suddenly snorting and pawing as the old trader tried to calm them. Rhiswyn sat up and looked at the road ahead. A barricade and guard in leather armor stood in the way, an apologetic look on his broad blue face. “Sorry, friends. I cannot allow you into the Draakorium. There is a sickness here.”