Wretchen The Forest Dragon of The Bileroot Bog Art Print (Autographed)
Wretchen The Forest Dragon of The Bileroot Bog
by Isabella Bunny Bennett
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The Forest Dragon of the Bileroot Bog
Oh the dangers of the Bileroot Bog and its resident dragon. Forget about arcane fire and smoke. Wretchen is a terrible beast of ancient magicks. Nature magicks. Tethered to the elements and the life of the land, what was once a bountiful stretch of forest home to all manner of fae creatures has become perpetually stuck in autumn. A rot. A diseased swamp of decay wrecked by war and Raviknah’s shadowy tendrils.
But did the inhabitants take their corruption on the nose? No. Bileroot, as it is now called, has become a twisting maze of angry thorns and black bogs, sprung to living torture and terror by an angry spirit we call Wretchen.
I’m sure I don’t recall her original name. And even if I did, it was not meant for a mortal tongue. Wretchen is fae. Nature incarnate. The element of life. Growth. Renewal. And now It it only fitting that since the devastation and corruption of her lands the fae creatures and herself regrew and warped into a nightmare of nature.
Wretchen is the diseased forest herself. Toxic sap oozes from her bark-like scales. Rotting moss and fungi hangs from her skeletal form. And her hollow eyes burn with raw, archaic energy. Angry eyes that could level the mountains if they wished.
Yet Wretchen and her kin are not necessarily our enemies...though they can barely be called allies. We share a mutual enemy in Raviknah and her servants. As long as we don’t get in the way, perhaps this ancient force of nature will keep us around.
There’s life in the Bileroot. It’s a decaying life, but life all the same. As the thorns twist and the vines bind, the old spirits of the forest begin to take on new forms. Satyrs, Faeries, Imps, and trolls reborn in the dark image of the forest. From the bogs they rise to serve their Queen.
Already they have amassed an impenetrable tangle of otherworldly vegetation in the dripping forest, and have even dug up the tomb of an old legend to help us in defeating Raviknah…
To the north Vexthra’s holy-infused severed head has been reclaimed and resurrected in the blood of fallen angels, once more rising as Andronell The White Wyrm.
Demons, dragons, faeries, and angels. It’s hard to imagine these things as anything but bedtime stories and fables.
Yet here they are. Real as anything in these forsaken lands. And much more horrible than we could possibly imagine.