Your arrow streaks from the bowstring, a slender shaft of blackened yew fletched with shriveled raven feathers. It burrows into flesh with a dry rasp, veins pulsing green-black as rot blooms outward, skin cracking like parched earth under an unyielding sun. The target crumples, limbs withering to brittle husks, dust sifting from unraveling sinew.
| # | Type | Name |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | Ammo | Arrow of Withering |