The Lore of Alchemist Epher of the Wood

Old woodcutters in the frontier village of Westerhaven tell a tale of an otherworldly flower that only blooms beneath the darkness of a new moon. The Duskdew Orchid grows deep in the Thorn, and its petals, blacker than the Quantum Shadow, are imbued with a potent healing magic, but its magic comes at a price. Touching the flower obscures all memory of how and where the flower was found. Eating it makes one forget much more.

Epher was an alchemist like his father, and his father’s father before him. He was regarded as a bit of a curiosity by the good folk of Westerhaven—a strong, practical, and industrious young man with a peculiar pet rat named Poppy that accompanied him on his daily trips to gather herbs for the village. He was not particularly superstitious, but anyone who knew the Thorn and its strangeness never tarried on a black moon’s eve, and this young man knew it better than most.

On one such trip Epher returned early to the village to find all of Westerhaven fast asleep. Despite his efforts, he could not wake a single person. Fearing a curse or a sickness had been placed upon his beloved home, he recalled the tale of the Duskdew Orchid and made for the Thorn.

Epher ran through the trees for what felt like hours, stopping only to gather a flask of water from a swift stream, and at long last he found what he had been searching for—a flower so black it looked as if it were shaped from elemental shadow. He seized the flower, packed it into his flask, and turned towards home. Then, as if by magic, he promptly found himself at the forest’s edge. Epher sat down for a moment to catch his breath.

“Come on, Epher, we must hurry if we’re to save the villagers!”, a small voice said.

“Poppy? You can talk?”

“I have always been able to talk, Epher. You just didn’t have ears to hear me. I will explain later, now let’s hurry on to the village.”

Epher and his companion arrived in Westerhaven and found all the villagers just as they had left them. They stopped at each slumbering villager, and gave them a sip from the flask. Each time, the result was the same. All awoke from their sleep, and screamed in horror.

“It’s me, Epher! Why don’t you recognize me?”

“I do not know an Epher, and I pray you leave our village in peace, monster!”

Bewildered by the villagers’ reactions, Epher ran to a fountain to grab a few handfuls of water, and caught a glimpse of his reflection. He saw what the villagers saw.

“Your time spent in the Thorn during those strangest of hours left an impression of the forest upon you, Epher.”

He was perhaps a length larger than before, with the head of a stag.

Westerhaven was saved, but it was lost to Epher. With no more village to call home, and no living soul that remembered him except his pet rat Poppy, he set out to begin life anew as Epher of the Wood.

Entered by: 0xe2D5…3Bd5 and preserved on chain (see transaction)