TheHoverpope/Hrotsvitha

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Hrotsvitha, the Golden Wood

There is a part of Szoreny, visible from everywhere in his boundaries, that beckons and draws in those who seek joy. A golden wood stands where the roots stretching upwards sprout fruit and broad, golden leaves, where the boughs are bent low by the weight of golden pomegranates and grapes; it is a rare place in the demon world where joy seems present. The fruit bends the trees low, and they collapse under their own golden weight, but they are joyful and sing, beautiful dancing tones that flow as the trees collapse onto each other and the boughs and roots resonate with golden sound. Her fruits are delicious, but they are golden and weigh down those who eat them; the scents of the air are sweet as fresh water and rose petals, but soporific.
Hrotsvitha's ringing tones tell legends and stories, and those who have heard the song will gladly sell their souls and their lives to eat the fruit of Hrotsvitha and rest under her singing boughs. She can take the form of a woman in a black mantle and a white stole, her face obscured by a veil woven of gold with embroideries of dancing gods in porcelain. She walks with a cane of baked, cracked hawthorn, and her perfect voice sings prayers of no effect to nobody in particular.
Hrotsvitha is the sole part of Szoreny that still is beautiful, still changes and flows, and she does so because she cannot bear her own weight as she reaches upwards; and so she treasures weakness and beauty above all else. She will gladly aid any being that seeks to trade the first for the second.
Any being who requests it of her may be transmuted so that they are lesser, but more beautiful and harmonious; and even those who do not wish it find the world more beautiful and perfect than it should be in her presence. Many find that in her presence, anger turns to lust and hate to desire, but she is not what she once was and so those things, and even true friendship and love, become a desire to possess. She can make it so those things are obtained as there is nothing as beautiful as the moment of a desire's fulfillment, but there is always some sacrifice of strength involved, whether the strength be physical, mental, or spiritual.