Description:
Grims Briar is a thorn-laced bush of the open steppe, known for its silence and spite. It grows low and wide where winds never rest, its thorny arms creeping outward like the fingers of some half-buried wight. Farmers loathe its spread, but wandering folk and spirit-workers revere it, believing its thorns can bind fate or sever falsehood. It is a plant of harsh truths and old curses—ever watching, ever waiting. To bleed on a Gríms Briar branch is to swear a vow before unseen things.
Structure & Growth:
- Forms dense, coiled thickets with charcoal-dark stems and hooked thorns
- Common in high plains, old battlegrounds, and windswept burial fields
- Branches twist around each other, forming natural snares and shelters for small beasts
- Blooms only in lightning season—brief red flowers that vanish by dawn
Color & Seeds:
- Thorns are black at the base, fading to rust-red at the tip
- Leaves are waxy and narrow, often rimmed with silver when young
- Seed pods are dry, papery spheres with hair-thin cracks—split open by wind alone
- Seeds are needle-like, said to only take root where lies were spoken in anger
Scent & Reaction:
- Has a dry, bitter scent like old leather and storm-wet stone
- Thorns cause a sharp sting followed by fevered dreams, often of wolves or broken oaths
- Burned in rites of reckoning, divorce, or the unmaking of kin-ties
- Wreaths of Gríms Briar are left on thresholds to ward off oathbreakers and wandering spirits
Folklore:
"Gríms Briar grows where promises rot. Tales tell of a nameless wanderer—Grímr—who sowed his regrets across the plains, and from each broken vow, a briar took root. Some say its thorns remember every oath whispered through clenched teeth. Seers harvest its petals before a storm to read fate in the way they fall. If you find a ring of Gríms Briar with no root in sight, leave it. It’s already listening."
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