Dim’ Shatyr - Tears of Fire
The sun-scorched deserts hold many perils, but few that offer a more insidious promise than the Serpent's Root. This seemingly frail and dying tree with its skeletal branches and deceptively inviting pools surrounding it lures the desperate into a fatal embrace. Its danger lies not in its withered form or the hostile lands surrounding it - but in the liquid that fills those tempting pools: the aptly named Tears of Fire.
To a parched traveler, the clear shimmer of water the Tears of Fire promise salvation. Yet, the first sip turns out to be a cruel betrayal, a cool touch that quickly transforms into searing agony.
This viscous, corrosive fluid burns with unnatural intensity, tearing through the throat and stomach like molten metal. As the victim throws itself around in pain, snakelike roots erupt from the sand, ensnaring limbs with an unyielding grip, dragging the doomed soul towards the pool. There, submerged in the caustic embrace of the Tears of Fire, flesh, blood, and bone are dissolved, leaving behind only silence and the churning liquid as sustenance for the heartwood of the tree.
Years of perilous experimentation, marked by both discovery and devastating failure, ended with the alchemists guild coaxing forth a rare, oily elixir from the harvested tears. This liquid grace can knit compound fractures in days, where natural healing would need months, making it a prize for both nomadic healers and seasoned warriors facing the continents' brutal struggles.
More valuable than gold, this knowledge commands fortunes in trade – a vial of the elixir is worth a small herd of Camels. Yet, the line between cure and catastrophe in these elixiers is razor-thin. The raw Tears dissolve flesh in moments, leaving behind only sloughing, burning flesh.
Only those with hands steady as stone and an intimate understanding of the Root's deadly chemistry dare attempt the transmutation. A single droplet measure wrongly can spell doom for the alchemist, releasing choking fumes or leaving the alchemist as yet another victim of the very substance they sought to control. Should the transmutation fail, the resulting concoction retains the Tears' molten touch, offering not swift mending, but a screaming, painful death.
To a parched traveler, the clear shimmer of water the Tears of Fire promise salvation. Yet, the first sip turns out to be a cruel betrayal, a cool touch that quickly transforms into searing agony.
This viscous, corrosive fluid burns with unnatural intensity, tearing through the throat and stomach like molten metal. As the victim throws itself around in pain, snakelike roots erupt from the sand, ensnaring limbs with an unyielding grip, dragging the doomed soul towards the pool. There, submerged in the caustic embrace of the Tears of Fire, flesh, blood, and bone are dissolved, leaving behind only silence and the churning liquid as sustenance for the heartwood of the tree.
Years of perilous experimentation, marked by both discovery and devastating failure, ended with the alchemists guild coaxing forth a rare, oily elixir from the harvested tears. This liquid grace can knit compound fractures in days, where natural healing would need months, making it a prize for both nomadic healers and seasoned warriors facing the continents' brutal struggles.
More valuable than gold, this knowledge commands fortunes in trade – a vial of the elixir is worth a small herd of Camels. Yet, the line between cure and catastrophe in these elixiers is razor-thin. The raw Tears dissolve flesh in moments, leaving behind only sloughing, burning flesh.
Only those with hands steady as stone and an intimate understanding of the Root's deadly chemistry dare attempt the transmutation. A single droplet measure wrongly can spell doom for the alchemist, releasing choking fumes or leaving the alchemist as yet another victim of the very substance they sought to control. Should the transmutation fail, the resulting concoction retains the Tears' molten touch, offering not swift mending, but a screaming, painful death.
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