Licorictus' Clan

On the edge of the Rotrock Rim, miles from any uncontaminated life, a Wildclaw happens upon an unusual sight. It appears to be the entrance to a lair, but it is engulfed by pale, fleshy fungal growths. For the environment they call home, the growths look abnormally healthy (if "healthy" can be used to describe something so foul), and the Wildclaw is compelled to take a closer look.

The ground grows softer as she draws nearer to the lair, and by the time she is close enough to see inside, the terrain squishes underfoot with an uncomfortable noise.

Up close, the fungus seems to be moving. The air is heavy, and reeks of mold and decay. There is a soft hiss of breath, and the Wildclaw jumps back in surprise as a dragon's head emerges from the blackness of the lair. It is a Ridgeback, and his face and neck are overrun by small, twisted mushrooms. He blinks in the sunlight and stares straight through her. His face is completely expressionless.

This lasts an uncomfortably long time. The Wildclaw is about to turn and leave when the Ridgeback's face contorts into an oddly wide smile and his eyes fix themselves on her.


He talks through his teeth. His face is still stuck in a frightening grin.


His teeth are sharp and his eyes are dull. She politely declines.

Something changes in his eyes.


His jaws open wide, and he exhales a cloud of choking, sickly sweet air. The Wildclaw is overtaken by a coughing fit, and in that instant, she has had enough. She quickly, gingerly, makes her way away from the unnatural lair, trying not to think about the nauseating smell, the squishy texture of the ground, and the tickling in her throat.

The Wildclaw finds the road again and moves briskly back the way she came, but at the back of her mind she knows she will return to the fungal lair.

Something has taken root.

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