Once loathed and feared, the mandrake turned souls cold. Legends told a sinister tale of its birth, arising from the soil of the hanged. Its twisted roots resembled a human form, for it fed on their life essence.
Everyone felt weary of its haunting screams, for it brought madness or death. Sought by sorcerers and witches, the mandrake was their tool for potions and dark magic.
Though tamed by the great witch—Mandragora, whispers of its dreadful past still echo in the shadows.
Momentarily, a dreadful omen descended over every single being in the colosseum, except Thragrak, for only he exuded enough greatness to withstand the mandrake's hold.
Suddenly, a hush fell over the crowd and a chill ran down their spines. An eerie silence enveloped the air. The lights dim, plunging the colossal space into darkness.
