Darkwing Duck Bushroot Novels & Stories

Cassian’s. Finally, in a grove split by lightning, they found it, pale stalks curling like fingers, blossoms white as bone. Widow’s bane. The root gleamed faintly under the storm, as if it knew lives clung to its harvest. They tore it from the soil with bloodied hands, stuffed it into pouches, and fled the grove as serpents pursued, arrows hissing through rain. Only half the riders returned. But their fists were clenched around the roots.

The Black Hawk said slowly, “I’ve read about a type of vine in ancient texts called the ‘Dousing Vine’. It can sleep deep underground for hundreds or even thousands of years. However, it wakes up from its slumber when it encounters fire. “Due to its long dormancy of hundreds or even thousands of years, its growth is extremely terrifying. Even a single tendril possesses tremendous power, making it incredibly challenging for even high-level martial experts to deal with it.” Sure enough, as the former leader of the Hawkeye Group, the Black Hawk was a walking encyclopedia. “Fuck! Are the Kleins sick in the head?” “First, it was Sanguis bats, then it was Dousing Vines. They must be insane.” “Godd

The plant in the enclosed glass was light purple, flooded with dimly lit light, embedded in the enclosed space. Cole recognised the plant. It was Monkshood also known as Wolfsbane, originated in England. It was a very poisonous plan used as a poison for arrowheads when hunting wolves and its effect was instant and deadly. It is said that the neurotoxins, aconitine and mesaconitine can be absorbed through the skin and cause severe respiratory and cardiac problems which would lead to death. Cole knew it was an effective poison for both humans and Werewolves. The smallest dose used on Isabelle had knocked her out. He grew angry all over again, recalling how that bastard could have caused Isabel

he reminded me. I nodded, that was out of the question. "Plus the people who did this also used xink," My head snapped towards him as I heard this revelation. Xink was the only dragon plant poison known. It was very rare and only grew in small proportions, it took 100 of this flowers to create a a pinch of xink. It had to be grounded into fine dark powder, as light as grains of wheat. It would be hard for any dragon to manage to even touch them, which brings me back to the thought that these new 'enemies' could not have been dragons.

she adds, shaking her head, “the effects wear off. So I don’t believe this was used on you. Your suppression’s been too consistent.” Staring at it, my stomach turns a little and I make a mental note to avoid anything that even vaguely resembles a sweet potato for the rest of my life. Her fingers move to the next. Our next possible culprit is a deep purple, almost black, shape resembling a small eggplant but sprouting thin, with hairy roots emanating from one end. “Wildroot. This one’s permanent. It disables the beast for life. You lose your scent, shifting takes longer than usual, and you don’t hear a voice in your head.”

Shelves lined the walls, packed tight with vials, herb bundles, and handwritten labels that curled at the corners like they were tired of keeping secrets. I’d been here before. Once. But not like this. This time, I wasn’t looking for herbs. I was looking for proof. I moved shelf to shelf, fingers brushing glass and parchment. Bitterroot. Silverroot. Ghost thistle. Sleepberry. Burnt sage. Bone salt. Most were standard. Harmless, in the right hands. But some? Some were only used for wolves who needed to be silenced. I paused at a jar of Wormroot—crushed, sealed tight with a wax-stamped lid.

All was not lost. Abertha stopped trying to teach me prognostication and spellcraft, and we focused on growing shit and foraging for the big three. Basically, there are tons of useful plants, but there are three that are worth their weight in gold—dragon tongue, wolf’s bane, and ashbalm. Dragon tongue is like a drug, similar to steroids, and it grows under very specific conditions—like when the moon is in the seventh house and there’s a red sky in morning. It’s a hassle to harvest, but it funds Abertha’s extravagant and mysterious lifestyle.

"Someone trained her to survive this." The implications settled like stones in my gut. "How long till she wakes?" Maelin busied himself with unpacking vials of murky liquids, their colors unnatural in the candlelight. "The toxin's a hybrid. Mostly diluted neurotoxin - lethal in pure form. But there's something else mixed in." He crushed dried leaves between his palms, the powder glowing faintly blue as it hit the air. "Dragonroot, if I had to guess." "Daggermouth root only grows in the Wastes."

Hmm. Currently, we are at the riverbed, Jax and I, but far from the usual crowded or overpopulated areas of the pack. The thick trees around us would even conceal us from nearby eyes even if we were spotted. And the plants surrounding us are Akon- Greek and when translated means dart. The dart plant or monkshood, name comes from the sepal, the outer part of the flower, that covers the bud as it develops and supports the petals. The sepal resembles the cowl that monks used to wear. But it is more commonly known by most as 'wolfsbane'.

The vanilla and cream coated my senses, almost cloying in its sweetness. But underneath, something else entirely. Something that made every hair on my body stand at attention. Bitter. Earthy. Almost medicinal beneath the sweetness. A scent I'd learned to recognize years ago during my training. This wasn't normal food. Shadowroot. The name surfaced from memory of lessons learned decades ago. A mystical herb that grew only in the deepest parts of ancient forests, far from civilization where magic still pooled in the soil. It was used to put pregnant women to sleep before their delivery, to ease their pain and make the birthing process safer for both mother and child.