Hercanon scanned the tapering ebony wand suspiciously. For one, it
seemed to be almost too big to be called a wand, but the invocation
magic that it held was clear. A simple wand of magic missles. And
yet, underlying the surface dweomer, a deeper more sinister spell
lurked. He had felt nothing when he had taken the wand from the
human woman, but she had suffered an immediate hurt. From what he
could determine it was a curse, one that no mortal could have
empowered. It seemed based on some sort of contingency, one that
would trigger when the owner gave it away. A curse of selfishness
then. What sort of being would have done this though, a tanaarii
perhaps...
And so to the flower. Midnight's flower, found only in the Realm of
Set in Baator. What had this group stumbled into to find themselves
there ? Let alone return ! But although they were correct, this
flower would restore all memories, it did indeed carry a risk.
Everything would be recalled, all the hidden dark memories as well
as the light. Could they cope ? They both looked strong, the human
female, still stung by the recent hurt and the elven male, whom he
had encountered before, once with more of a glint of resentment in
his eyes, softened now in ignorance. What racist hatreds will well
up in the newly remembered mind ? Enough, that is their concern.
They have paid, and the deal is fair, simply grind the flower in a
mortar and pestle until it is almost powder. Mix with dew, one part
to five and bring to heat, simmering gently until the powder is gone.
Finally drink, and be prepared. Time to let them know. They will
take the risk, 'tis sure.