Yellow Snough Weed
The terrible yellow plant that carpets The Dark Peak every Newshoot, and gets called rape by anyone who still remembers the off-world crop it descends from. Half of Hellsborough smokes what's harvested and dried from it -- snoughweed, the cured leaf gets called -- and none of them, so far as I can tell, connect the smoke in their lungs to the field they walked through on the way home.
A field of it looks exactly like you'd expect: waist height, relentlessly yellow, smelling faintly of something between mustard and diesel. Walk the tramlines between the rows and you're fine. Step off them and the stalks close in behind you at a rate that has nothing to do with wind.
It doesn't eat you, not in any sense I've confirmed. What it does is hold. The root mass under a mature patch is a single continuous tangle, acres wide, and once your boot has found its way into that tangle the plant simply doesn't let go while the roots work out, slowly, whether you're worth the trouble of composting. I pulled one man free after four hours with both boots gone and both ankles the colour of the flowers.
What it wants with the time is anyone's guess. The molon-tor runs through every root in the field the same as it runs through everything else here, so perhaps it isn't wanting anything at all. Just processing, the way any patch of ground processes what falls on it, only slower, and with opinions.
Field note: never leave the tramlines in a snough-weed field, whatever the shortcut promises. If you must cross open ground, keep moving. It only closes on stillness.
| Type | Lurker |
| HP | 1 |
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