Indeed, the forest was the source of many strange stories. In other lands, they might have been dismissed as tall tales meant to frighten children away from the mundane dangers that abounded in any forest. But in Irrisen... well, Irrisen belonged to the witches. In the Land of Eternal it was often difficult to where truth ended and superstition began.<br/><br/>Anyone who had ventured beyond the borders of Orvinsby had their own strange tale to tell. There were stories of ethereal riders, doomed to wander the woods forever on an impossible hunt; stories of lone maidens whose weeping foretold doom; stories of wolves whose fangs left no mark upon the flesh, but could rend the very soul from a man... Such was not beyond the realm of possibility, where witches ruled.<br/><br/>As for the task at hand, it would be quite a challenge in itself. The endless winter of Irrisen killed off much of the plant life, leaving mostly pines and the strange winteryews or "Witch Trees". However, Zeldana had learned over the years where to find much of what she needed.<br/><br/>Garlic would be the easiest. Most people kept a few cloves, just in case they needed to ward themselves against a supernatural horror. It would simply be a matter of finding a friendly neighbour to ask. Of course, not all her neighbours were friendly. Fruit was an expensive luxury, but the Dahl family might have some on hand. The Dahls were the wealthiest family in the village, which is to say that they could afford a slice of fruit after meals from time to time.<br/><br/>Sven the Merchant would also carry much of what she needed. He would certainly have basil and cilantro in his spice racks. If she was lucky, he might even carry some of the more exotic herbs from farther south, like Aloe Vera and Eucalyptus.  The village would simply have to endure their warts and upset stomachs for a couple days longer until Sven's next visit.<br/><br/>It was the Dandelion and Lavender that Zeldana needed to venture out for. Lavender, Zeldana knew, grew by the edge of some hot springs a little way from the village. Dandelions were hard to come by, but there was a rare strain that had survived the perpetual frosts and still grew in patches slightly deeper into the Hoarwood.