Morning crept slowly through the massive darkened space, a deep burrow that had been dug in the roots of a great and ancient tree. Light glittered through small gaps in these roots, drawing random and hazy symbols upon the soft moss floor beneath. The tree itself still lived, and it's roots hung like talons over the open space, giving rise to fearsome shadows in a sharp contrast the small pinpoints of light.<br/><br/>The air was cool and moist, leaving a fine shine of dew upon the many curious objects contained into the burrow. Among these were deep set emerald jems, each laid carefully into the earthy walls of the structure, illuminating the interior with a second source of light, but fading rapidly as the sun encroached upon their territory. The spell which powered them receded in the daylight, keeping the light of the darkened tunnel at a minimal, but not bright level. Most humanoid species would have stumbled through the space, being caught unawares by the many intricate traps laid out through the interior.<br/><br/>At the far end of the burrow could be seen a small portal of light, the entryway into this place. Following portal inward, the eye would catch view of the first body, an elvish man dressed in leather garb, with short swords at his back. He lay upon the mossy ground, his eyes staring blankly upward into the ceiling, illuminated by a small shaft of life. His death had come from the thousands of small pins that now impaled his flesh, each coated with a powerful poison. His mouth was stretched back with a rictus grin, his spined arched backwards so far that it seemed clear he had broken his own spine through his thrashing.<br/><br/>Further in, a fearless individual would find the next, a human man in leather and furs, a maul held in one hand, but useless against the large bolder that now covered his upper body. Blood pooled slowly around the form, already becoming thick and viscous.<br/><br/>The last of this morbid trio was a female, a small halfling dressed hardy armor, her shield emblazoned with the symbol of a platinum dragon, her hands still gripping a shining silver maul. Her cause of death was far more apparent, with her upper half flun halfway across the great room, her lower bits missing entirely.<br/><br/>These were the poor souls who had thought to steel from Verzanth the Green, ancient among dragons, defiler of kingdoms. She had many other titles, but those were the ones she preferred. Nestled comfortably among the ivy and moss of her home, she seemed almost invisible, and might indeed have seemed so, but for the slow and regular beat of her breath. She sat calmly among the elements of nature, basking in the first warmth of daylight as her narrow golden eyes beheld the last of the adventuring party that had tried in vain to steal from her. She had stalked him for some time now, only revealing herself very recently with the death of the halfling, whose blood still dotted her emerald chin. The cleric had been little more than a snack for her, and she hungered for more. Speaking with a sibilant hiss that seemed to shake the walls around her, she spoke to the intruder, needling them as she prepared for her second meal.<br/><br/>"I smelled your scent from the first hell spawn. The taste of brimstone lays thick upon your flesh, and I shall enjoy stripping it from your form to enjoy at my leisure. So few of your kind are foolish enough to intrude upon my domain. You will be a delicious repast to see me through to my next meal."<br/><br/><strong>OOC: Heavensends, please roll for initiative and make a Wisdom Saving throw.</strong>