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Happy Birthday, Welcome to Toxicity

Marisole felt. Yes, she felt something, what was it?
She searched her newly acquired vocabulary and found the word, tense. Yes, her muscles were tense, her legs and arms and back were all tense and sore. Sore.
The air around her was warm and thick. Humid. Even underneath the sheet she could feel it pressing down on her. And that was good. She opened her eyes slowly.

The room was darkened, a dim yellow glow coming from an overhead panel was the only thing to give light to the room. Marisole liked that, her eyes adjusted to the new experience of seeing. She was laying in a bed. There was a table to her right, a window beyond that. Slowly she sat up, bringing the sheet with her as she did so. There was a desk against the wall, a simple brown table with one drawer. A chair beside it. Against the other wall there was a chest of drawers. Everything was brown. That was good. Draped over the chair was a white thing.

Marisole stood up slowly, placing her feet gingerly on the floor, feeling the coldness of the wood paneling. She shuffled over to the white thing, examining it closely and running the soft white fabric threw her fingers. It was made up of little tiny loops. She consulted her memory for the appropriate word. "Towel". Yes, that's it. She dropped the sheet to the ground and wrapped herself in this Towel.

She noticed two doors. One, she knew led to outside of her room. That would not be good just yet, eventually maybe she'd venture out. In fact something told her that soon she'd have to go find some dirt, and that sounded excellent. But for now, that door was not going to help her. The other door was a mystery. She slowly wrapped one slender hand around the handle and pulled as hard as she could.

The door was not stuck, in fact it was quite loose, and the force with which she pulled sent Marisole stumbling backwards. That was not good. She was tempted to slam the door shut and crawl back into bed when something caught her eye. More fabric. She examined these articles just as closely as she had examined the towel. Clothes. These were clothes and she was supposed to be wearing them. She dressed herself quickly, feeling a bit silly for not realizing that she needed to be clothed sooner. There was something else in the closet, a pair of "Shoes". Marisole picked one up and looked it over, spending extra time inspecting the "laces". After careful consideration she decided that these "Shoes" were not and that she had little use for them.

Having thoroughly explored her room Marisole sat down at her desk. She opened the drawer and found a pen and a note book. Hesitantly she took the pen in her hand and opened the notebook.

Only with a eery presence tingling on the back of ones neck did The Nameless One make as he left the package behind in Marisole's room. It is left on the window, now open, wrapped in tan paper with a brown bow. The gift is rather heavy, and she will find out why once opened. Inside is a large carved wooden pot plant holder, filled with fresh rich soil. Resting inside the pot is a dozen packets of seeds of different varieties, a note that says " Druidic Life Vase" and a small book on the basics of plant growing.

This how ever is no ordinary pot plant. The worshippers of nature long ago made this device, and plants that are planted within the pot plant not only grow to their full potential, but bigger and better than normal and instantaneously.

Marisole returned to her room after a rough day. Luckily after her encounters with the weird things in the forest her day had gotten much simpler, she had relaxed under a tree then meandered back to the devolpment house where things seemed to be back to normal.

She considered her new pot for a few moments then pulled the seed packets out of her pocket. There was one labeled "Orchid". She opened the seed packet carefully extracted the small brown seeds, adding them to the soil. She left the room to go find some water.

When she returned there were three full sized, blooming Orchids sprouting out of the pot and another two about to begin growing. This seemed odd to Marisole. She consulted the book on plants and found that Orchids were notoriously difficult to grow and even more difficult to maintain. They were also supposed to take many years to grow to their full potential.

Marisole did not think on this for too long, clearly this was a magic pot. She was pleased with her conclusion and laid down in bed with the plant book, reading it carefully.