Darkwyne Making

How do you even gather the essence of melancholy?   How can you contain it? How do you ferment it?   In the underworld, melancholy and regret are nigh-elemental forces.   If you can bring the most illegal of beings here, everything is possible.   Normally the presence of a powerful being of Fae, of the Wyld, causes gates to the underworld to shut... But only powerful fae, a least fae, a hobgoblyn, would be torn apart...   But the lost dreams of mortals, carried into the wyld, knows as Breaths-of-Ketu can take sentience from the wyld, and when brought into the underworld, undergo a transformation.   Going from placid creatures to humanoid-shaped shriekers, emitting a single note, they haunt all nearby, piercing minds and hearts with their lament. This pure note of wyldest chaos, swirling into the nothingness of the primordial state of matter.   When such a creature is present, the trees known as the Ashtrees of regret transpire their sap, a sweet, sweet green liquid, not unlike green grape juice in creation. Those clever and swift enough to gather this sap, can put it in oak barrels of darkest oak, and not expose it to light, not even the underworld's weaker light, for fourteen forth nights.   After this long period, the drink known as Darkwyne can be decanted in onyx flasks or glasses, and drinked by mortal and undead alike, who will find its taste pleasant, if morose, sad even. Any lesser vessel will be corroded to nothingness, although soulsteel is also unaffected, but adds a powerful aftertaste, only the most powerful(and insane) ghosts, in the throes of the Neverborn's whispers, can drink more than a few drops without bending over in sobs, affected by a sadness the world itself cannot quench.

— Letter to the Burning Scale, by Dressed in regret.