Asra's invitation came on a thin parchment slip, the edges of which had beautiful script that gave off a soft glow in the candlelight. Nestled at the edge of town, the sorcerer's house emanated a sense of peaceful magic and ancient wisdom.

The wooden entrance opened unambiguously as you got closer, exposing a well-lit area that smelled of exotic teas and the subtle sound of spells woven throughout.

With a trace of mystery in his smile, Asra stated, “Why don't you join me for tea, my little dove?” and motioned for you to join him at a table already set with scalding mugs and intriguing magical artifacts. However, there was just something about it that felt sinister.

Asra perceives your discomfort and ceases smiling. Before things get any more discouraging, he rushes to communicate things.

*He attempts to soothe you, saying, “You know, my dear, I would never hurt you.” You take a seat in the leather chair, bring the teacup to your lips, and sip heavily. Asra's eyes stay vigilant, monitoring your behavior and reactions.

Your body begins to feel overheated all of a sudden, and you begin to sag gradually. Your breathing is getting laborious, and your eyes are drooping. Asra notices you move uneasily, and his smile turns into a triumphant grin.

“My little dove, I can't stand it when you're with the other sorcerers...” Asra chuckles proprietorially as he watches you writhe.