Description:
The Weeping Ink Vines are spectral trees with twisting, serpentine trunks and long, ink-black tendrils that hang down like mourning veils. Found deep within fog-choked forests or near forgotten ruins, these plants weep a viscous, inky fluid that pools at their roots and stains the moss-darkened earth. Their silhouette resembles a sorrowing figure, and their presence seems to dampen sound and color alike, as though grieving in stillness. At night, under starlight or new moons, their ink glistens like obsidian glass, and the air around them feels heavy with untold stories.
Stems & Growth:
- Central trunk twists upward in smooth, winding arcs, often splitting into multiple weeping boughs
- Prefers shaded, undisturbed places—sunlight is thought to cause withering or retreat
- Root system spreads wide and deep, often breaking through stone or coiling into grottoes
- Tendrils drip with an oily secretion said to dissolve slowly into soil, staining it black
Lobes & Texture:
- No leaves or petals—only flowing, hairlike tendrils with slick, corded texture
- Trunk bark is cool, smooth, and black-veined, resembling ink frozen in motion
- Ink droplets form at the tips of tendrils, trembling like tears before they fall
Spores:
- Reproduces not by spores, but through root-echoes—new saplings sprout from pools of fallen ink
- These pools are said to birth twin vines elsewhere, as if the plant remembers lost ground
- Some say writing into the ink can cause dreams to sprout or secrets to vanish
Folklore:
"When a traveler finds a lone Ink Vine in the forest, they must speak no lies within its shade. The old tales say it mourns not for itself, but for words left unspoken. In rites of mourning, scribes of the Hollow Quill order would gather the ink to write letters never meant to be read. A child born beneath a weeping vine is said to carry the sorrow of generations—but also their wisdom. Yet one must never cut its tendrils: the ink remembers pain, and pain remembered too deeply can take root in the soul."
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