Deep We Go
A thorny bush native to the forests at the base of the Apellian mountains, and the land est all the way to the Sporrus. One specimen can spread more than five leagues, especially in the lonelier straits where no road runs. In Crac it is studded with bright red flowers, designed to look like spots of fresh blood. This draws small, carnivorous rodents and birds down to investigate, where they are trapped by the hooked barbs that line every branch, camouflaged against the dark soil. The Spirits struggle and die, their bodies decomposing into the ground below and nourishing the roots of this voracious plant. Woodsmannish often joke that if the Embrangle bore fruit they would never go hungry again, so effective is it at proliferating itself throughout the undergrowth.
Its folk-name, wetnurse-of-the-woods, relates to the bounty that it provides to scavengers that brave its defences. Some travellers have spoken on coming an entire brotherhood of woodkids, eyes glowing in the darkness, as they feed upon the corpses festooning a particularly ancient example of this wicked flora.