A man died, though the rust his body left upon the ground was unlike anyone had seen. Was the blood seeping upward? No, it wasn't blood at all. Thin edges ruffled as they grew, lichen of the same sanguine shade soon blanketed the spot, an eerie pool of ridged flora marking his demise.

Another death, another pool, barbed with sharp protrusions. As more patches of red and sharp shoots grew in the wake of their conflict, the peoples of Sapience became more alert to the strange phenomenon. The flora was further fed with the massive deaths accrued in ley conflicts and foul corridors, tangling in long vines that became increasingly more aggressive the stronger they became.

Curiosity inspired some to repeatedly feed the plants and see just what they would blossom into, which swiftly grew out of control. Others sought out aide, Nalin Talasi of the Siroccian Geological Society soon escorted through the perils of Tiyen Esityi to collect samples of a specimen that thrilled the Tsol'aa beyond what was societally appropriate, tickling their botanist's fancy.

Through their research, the SGS found that the plants were utterly warped and veined with ylem, the more mature plants making this evident in the way they pulsed with the same energy. The question remained as to if it were a natural mutation, or something designed. By this time, some of the plants had begun producing seed pods, though they were thick and macabre, like some cartilege calcified over time. Another foray was made to collect a sample, defenders emerging from across Sapience to keep the Director safe as they retrieved something to work with.

In the greenhouse, the plant reminded Nalin of something they had seen in their youth, during their initial education in the field of botany. The Grand Library lended some of their staff to pull potential volumes from their archives, citizens of each city assisting in sorting through the tomes in hopes of finding the works of Payat Nassaeg, a noted botanisted from the turn of the Epoch. Not too late, one in particular was uncovered that connected the dots, the vines a mutation of an Ashtani utricularia.

It was there, in the shadow of the Needle of Balance, that the heart of the vines would be found. Calling forth for the Dark Mother to accept his gift, Dhuazh, a devout worshiper of Chakrasul and self-titled Doomsayer, took claim of his creation before the world. Towering easily two-Ogres high, the monstrosity was rooted within part of one of the stable leylines, mutating and feeding with abandon. In an effort to protect his gift, Dhuazh was consumed by it as he threw his body between plant and amassing peoples, their weapons drawn and intent clear.

Chaos ensued. Vines lashed, pods burst, a poisonous fog descended. The ragged dead, slaves sacrificed to spur the utricularia's growth crawled in, in a blood-crazed frenzy, attacking anything and everything in their wake. Adventurers were sucked into the emptied pods, their very lifesource siphoned away to heal the plant's wounds.

A wave of power rippled across Sapience as the great stalk was finally hacked in twain, releasing its final vengeance upon the world. Pods broke open across the continent, shambling dead bearing the faces of the prominant fallen carrying the potential of the plants' survival sprawling over the land, seeking out new blood, new reserves, new flesh to claim as nutrients to begin again. It was only as the final zombie was felled that the collective peoples of Sapience could breath easier once more.

Penned by my hand on Gosday, the 11th of Midsummer, in the year 469 MA.