491 Viscendra

[BONUS]

On the path ahead, Ren saw a small, childlike figure crafted from stone, its face and body concealed by a dark robe. As he approached, the statue began moving slowly, cupping its hands before it, it grated a whisper emanated from underneath its deep cowl:

"A price must be paid to forge ahead,

Pay too much, and you'll be dead,

After the war, it paints the lands,

Let your offering fill my hands!"

Hmm . . . If Ren was right with his guess, then he had to offer blood on its hands.

Ren would offer beast blood, but since he was in a hurry, he nicked himself with a blade, taking small damage while he offered it to the idol's cupped hands until it was filled with a pint of blood. The idol crumbled to dust, before he passed safely.

If players had proceeded past the statue without paying its toll, it would grate:

"What is not given freely is taken with force. What could have been a trickle now will pour."

The idol would then curse the players and they would suffer necrotic damage, chipping their HP for the next few hours. And since it was a curse, it couldn't be easily cured. And not even his [Monarch Sovereignty] could stop a curse.

A small clearing opened up before Ren as if the trees had bent away in reverence. In the middle of the clearing was a hut made from stones, branches, and moss; a rabbit roasts on a spit over a small campfire. A dark elf woman sat next to a fire, deftly skinning another rabbit with a small blade.

"Don't be scared now, I don't bite . . . well . . . not unless I really like you," she said in a sultry voice. "Come, take a seat, and tell me why you're here."

Ren used [Probe] on her before he even thought of coming closer.

[Viscendra the Vile is a diabolical dark elf who crafted hexes and offered dark boons at terrible costs. As devious as she was beautiful, Viscendra's greatest joy was to watch aspiring adventurers squirm and writhe as they contemplated her twisted bargains.

In the same way that she always seemed to know what a person craves, Viscendra and her hut tended to show up whenever and wherever her services were most needed. Players might stumble upon her in the depths of a dark forest, just outside a dragon's den, or in the seediest district of a large city.

Webs of lies and deceit were woven into Viscendra's life from early childhood. Born to a noble drow house in the Dark Below, she spent her first decades of training to become a priestess of the Spider Queen.

Although she often disregarded and even flouted the strict hierarchy of her goddess, Viscendra showed great aptitude, especially for the darker aspects of divine magic. Equipped with both immense talent and a ravenous appetite for power, she eventually dared to escape the stifling confined of drow society and made her way to the surface world.

Some believed Viscendra still worships the Spider Queen, playing her own role in the goddess's dark schemes by spinning an intricate web of chaos. Others speculate that she had achieved her new mystical powers through a pact with a wicked fiend. Whatever that case was, Viscendra now offered her dark services to anyone naïve and desperate enough to seek her out.

Viscendra is driven by an insatiable appetite for pleasure – and nothing pleased her more than taking advantage of other people's desperation to tempt them into accepting her wicked bargains. Equipped with a sharp tongue and an even sharper wit, Viscendra had a knack for sensing what others desire – and which offers they would find it impossible to refuse.

Viscendra hid her advanced age – several centuries by most accounts – behind a youthful smile and a spry demeanor. She had no qualms about utilizing her physical charms to tempt potential customers.

While she employed a carefree façade to divert attention from the sinister nature of her dark gifts, she never hid the fine print of her offerings. If asked about the true cost of a specific service, she usually answered truthfully or at least offered up a cryptic remark such as, "everything has a cost, my dear – and only those willing to pay it will ever achieve anything in this world." ]

That was a long description. Ren thought.

Though it him the information that she served the Mother of Spiders. The goddess and queen of the Drows.

"Oh my. You have the potential to become a hexcrafter, my dear," she said when Ren came close. "How about it? Want to buy spells specific for Hexcrafters?"

She then offered a wide range of services, from accursed magic items, hexes, and jinxes to dark companions and mounts. Overall, Viscendra was far more interested in sowing chaos than turning a profit.

She had a soft spot for handsome customers, though – of any sex or race – and detested cowardly creatures.

"I have two creatures for sale, handsome," she continued. "You might be interested in a Zemilin (25 000 gil) and a Blood Carrion, currently inhabiting a giant lizard (100 0000 gil)."

Ren shook his head. "No. I can't use them. I'm here about the curse rotting this lands," he asked first.

"Is that so?" Viscendra stood and tilted her hips, smiling charmingly.

"Do you know what curse has befallen Eldermill?" Ren questioned.

"Oh, a dark one, let there be no doubt about that. Ancient, elven magic. Like a mold that's taken hold, it'll fester and rot and continue to spread until all of Verdant Woods has succumbed to its blight."

"So you know about it? Are you the one behind the corruption?"

"Me?" Viscendra faked a surprised. "By the Dark Lady, no. Why would I ever do such a thing? Turning people into frogs, sure, that always gets a laugh, but just killing everything? That's no fun at all. No, this curse is something more ancient, mixed with a hint of fresh blood and betrayal."

"Then . . . do you know how the curse can be undone?"

Viscendra smiled darkly. "I can help you – in fact, I want to help you. But help always comes at a cost . . ."

"Cost?" Ren frowned.

"Before I will aid you, I want something which you hold dear. That pet could be one, too."

Pii!

Pii flew behind Ren while the latter's face never wavered. "Besides my pet, what else do you want?"

Viscendra sighed before her eyes darkened a little. "Then . . . how about that prized [Trinket] you have?"