STRIGA

Depth rises immediately, heavy and deliberate, like stone doors opening onto something ancient and waiting. This scent carries the weight of legacy and dominion, rich with earth and smoke, authority pressed into every breath. It is not seductive by accident. It commands by presence alone.

Red Wine: Dark and fermented, steeped in richness and ironed depth. Power aged through centuries, indulgence sharpened into ritual rather than excess.

Dragon’s Blood: Resinous and smoldering, dense with heat and myth. Sovereignty bound to fire and blood, strength drawn from forces older than mercy.

Blue Ash: Cool, smoky, and mineral-toned. Destruction rendered calm, the remains of burning held in quiet control.

Soil: Damp, dark, and grounding. Dominion rooted in the land itself, death and life entwined beneath unyielding will.

She is rule made eternal, hunger disciplined into law. The scent lingers like smoke in a crypt after the flame has gone out, deep, earthen, and absolute, leaving no doubt that something ancient still reigns here.