The Lore of Alchemist Gary of the Bibliotheca

Mandragora Officinarum

"The mandrake is a fascinating object. Many years ago, when some early farmers first unearthed it, they feared that the souls of men had been entombed in its roots due to the anthropomorphic appearance of the taproot. I have dedicated my life to the pursuit of unlocking the mysteries of this extraordinary herb, as I believe it to be the key to achieving the highest level of consciousness. In my own experimentation, I have enhanced my awareness of the physical and mystical beyond the reaches of ANY wizard I have ever encountered. I have absolute certainty that in short time, I will perfect my recipe to deliver permanent ascension to a higher state of being. The Council of Thirteen may scoff at me all they like, and call me a madman; they lack the intellect and the inspiration to comprehend the import of my work! In due time, they will see that they were the ones who have 'lost their grip on reality'. Although, when I think back on the rudimentary minds of those farmers who saw a doomed soul within a simple root, I often wonder if perhaps, they were right…”

The alchemist placed his quill upon the table and gazed into the fire. The orange flames reflecting in his eyes accentuated the orange flecks in his irises that had been slowly growing in size and quantity over the last year. As his studies had progressed into more and more aggressive experimentation on himself and his familiar Freya, their skin and fur had begun to take on a distinctly orange hue. His clothes, once impeccably white, were thoroughly stained orange from his work grinding mandrakes each day to further his research. He had grown more and more distant recently and more prone to fits of hallucination or outright rage. Despite his physical dissent, his mind continued to race at night, fueled by the Mandrake Potions he created each day, with ever increasing potency.

As he sat there, in a brief moments respite before heading back to his workbench, Alchemist Gary of the Bibliotecha fought off a wave of nausea and took a draught of the mandrake potion by his side. With increasing energy coursing through his veins as the hallucinagenic effects of the potion began to take hold, he stood.

"Come Freya, we have much work to do, and little time to do it."

Entered by: 0x4E2c…E0a2 and preserved on chain (see transaction)