It hits you: the stench of death and decay. The heap moves, constricting around a tiefling trapped beneath it. Crunching and snapping, dark green vines slither and twist in on themselves, forming first a pair of legs, then a torso with arms; something resembling a head—conical and faceless—tops the bizarre form. The bulky creature looms over you, showering you in rotting plant matter.



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