Terrors and Tinctures

The third hint something's wrong in a town where secrets are steeped stronger than the tea?

A knock on the door after dark. Especially if it's a delivery of potion ingredients you didn't order.

When a shadowy stranger drops off an unlabeled tincture kit at the apothecary—along with a cryptic note—I try to tell myself it's just another odd Tuesday in Willowbark. Then people start falling into enchanted sleep. One by one. All dreaming the same chilling vision.

A corpse hanging from a tree in the Glimmerfen Forest. Creepy, sure, but dreams are just dreams, right? Until the same stranger who dropped off that tincture kit is found strung up from an oak tree. With a cult tattoo on their wrist.

Now the herbs are reacting to moonlight, the coven's on edge, and the magical boundaries around town are cracking like overcooked toffee.

I didn't sign up for magical plagues or town-wide terror. I just wanted to restock the chamomile and keep my cat-dragon from setting the curtains on fire.

But Willowbark has other plans. And this time, no tincture in the world can keep the nightmares at bay.

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