The Lore of Archmagus Eden of the Moors:

"Damnit." The vial toppled from the shelf and exploded into a mix of wizard-security glass and very valuable and glistening potion upon the floor. SCHLOOOP- it was encased in the emerald but clear gel of a slime, the very villain who caused the thump and who was now both digesting and clearly fiending for the meal.

"Bad Lorb, BAD." He shooed the slime, now content and perhaps a little out-of-it, back to a corner and shut the door on the potion room.

He had been working on the border of The Fey for many moons now, in a monastic state of study on botanical substances. Lorb, the slime, was incredibly useful in the research, serving as a wizarding kind of truffle pig for rare herbal compounds, but the utility was also a curse. He would need to strengthen the shelf and order sturdier bottles from the workshop.

He missed the days of journey, and his scholarly season was coming to an end. In Spring he would set off to trace the path of the budding leaves.

Entered by: 0x10DC…1855 and preserved on chain (see transaction)