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  Kobold Barista Perfume Oil

  Dungeoneering is exhausting, and sometimes the watered-down ale at the local tavern just slows you down. Before you head out on your next adventure, slather yourself in this fiery brew: freshly brewed coffee with ginger, nutmeg, cardamom, black pepper, cloves, cinnamon, and cream.

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  Troubled by Revenants Perfume Oil

  “How came the village to be deserted?” asked the General.

  “It was troubled by revenants, sir; several were tracked to their graves, there detected by the usual tests, and extinguished in the usual way, by decapitation, by the stake, and by burning; but not until many of the villagers were killed.

   

  “But after all these proceedings according to law,” he continued — “so many graves opened, and so many vampires deprived of their horrible animation — the village was not relieved. But a Moravian nobleman, who happened to be traveling this way, heard how matters were, and being skilled—as many people are in his country—in such affairs, he offered to deliver the village from its tormentor. He did so thus: There being a bright moon that night, he ascended, shortly after sunset, the towers of the chapel here, from whence he could distinctly see the churchyard beneath him; you can see it from that window. From this point he watched until he saw the vampire come out of his grave, and place near it the linen clothes in which he had been folded, and then glide away towards the village to plague its inhabitants.
  
  A paean to ancient malevolence and the unseen forces that grasp and scratch at the living like gnarled roots clawing through blood-stained soil in midnight forests: patchouli, mandrake root, black pepper, and fossilized amber.

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  Wrath Perfume Oil

  A scent aflame with rage, swirling in the red haze of hatred: dragon’s blood spiked with black pepper, clove, and cinnamon.

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  Mr. Vandemar Perfume Oil

  The second of the visitors, a tall man, the one he had thought of as a wolf, his gray and black hair cut bristle-short, stood a little behind his friend, holding a stack of photocopies to his chest. He had said nothing until this moment—just waited, huge and impassive. Now he laughed, once, low and dirtily. There was something unhealthy about that laugh.

  Dark and gangly, with a glint of razor-sharp stainless steel behind it: opopponax, costus, black pepper, black sandalwood, and polished metal.

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