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Once apon a time in a land far away there was an enormous fountain in the most gruesome of places that flowed blood of villagers that had angered New Bloods of all sorts. The fountain dripped and spat out the blood as the villagers bodies were ground up and used as mulch to satisfy the hungry bone flowers that circled the fountain. The flowers sang their bewitching song, and the villagers followed the dreary notes to their death beds. The bone flowers would slice open their necks with a marrow of a leaf and empty their crimson nectar into the fountain. Then they would sing their bewithing song again and again and so on and so forth until all of the villagers had spilt their disobediant blood into the fountain of their doom.