The blowgun needle gleams with a sickly sheen, its barbed tip etched in faint, crumbling runes that flake like decayed bone. Coated in a viscous, greenish sap that hardens into brittle thorns upon drying, it pierces flesh with a whisper-soft hiss. Wounds from its strike bloom with ashen veins, skin shriveling inward as vitality drains like sand through clenched fingers.
These sliders set site audio only, so you can mix against Discord and other apps (phone volume still caps everything).