In the wastelands of the gloomy south, arises high the strongest breed. When the sun loomed again, radiation modified the seed. The seeds they seemed to proliferate with deadly solar flares, multiplying cells at near light speed. The growth atones for the years of darkness and the sun appears. So arise, apocalyptic weed. Along comes a man with his meaningless spans, not sure whats lying ahead. Discovers the weed and his pipe he will feed. Figures, might as well smoke himself dead. Unlike anything that he's torched before. More smoke is drawn past his throat, the ultimate stone. The adventurers own harvested into his tote as he picks his finals gem, comes creeping from the leaves. Stems restrains his jugular, brings him to his knees. Blood turns blue, he needs to breath. Restricted by the noose, one last try to reach his sword. Succeeds, beheads, set free.

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