Negotiations

In the southeast of the East Coast, Black Wizards controlled vast stretches of land. This was Dollhouse territory!

At the heart of that land lay a forest no mortal dared approach. A massive Wizard Tower rose from its center: the headquarters of the Dollhouse.

Thick storm clouds hung over the forest day and night. Negative Energy churned within them, and black lightning struck from time to time.

The Rotten Forest was the first layer of defense around the Wizard Tower, as well as a barrier that kept mortals out.

The trees were a sickly gray-green, their bark riddled with cracks that occasionally dripped dark green liquid.

Leaves were sparse in their crowns. Only a few still clung on.

When a breeze carrying Negative Energy passed through, the trees, seemingly on the verge of death, sometimes gave off a faint Black Light—a quiet warning of their danger to anyone nearby.

The ground was carpeted with rotting leaves and reeked of decay. No one knew what dangers lurked beneath them. Here and there, gaudy mushrooms grew beside the trees, their dingy hues making it plain that eating them would be fatal.

The closer one came to the center, the more enormous the trees grew. Their dense branches alone blocked out the light. Deeper in, the light dwindled until day was no different from night.

And it was in this harsh, hostile place that the Black Wizard Organization known as the Dollhouse trained its apprentices.

This place, once utterly silent, now bustled with activity.

Creaking carriages filled the forest.

"Quick, quick! Get this shipment inside, then hurry and take the next assignment! Easy escort jobs like this don't come along every day!" A Wizard Apprentice in a black robe, with a scar running down his right eye and a left eye like a