Editing Rooftop Growth/Table

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|Value 2: 'Dawn-Yodeller' Mandrakes = The mandrakes wriggle and writhe as you pull them from the earth. Their colouration has deepened to the jaundiced yellow that signifies full maturity. As soon as they are free from their shallow cradle of dirt, they do what they do best, and ululate. {{...}}
 
|Value 2: 'Dawn-Yodeller' Mandrakes = The mandrakes wriggle and writhe as you pull them from the earth. Their colouration has deepened to the jaundiced yellow that signifies full maturity. As soon as they are free from their shallow cradle of dirt, they do what they do best, and ululate. {{...}}
 
|Value 3: Prize-Winning Peppercaps = The peppercaps are perfectly round and wine-purple, adorned with a lurid dappling of yellow spots. {{...}} mature enough that they absolutely should not be handled without gloves. {{...}} Not necessarily a ''good'' flavour, mind, but sometimes one takes what one can get.
 
|Value 3: Prize-Winning Peppercaps = The peppercaps are perfectly round and wine-purple, adorned with a lurid dappling of yellow spots. {{...}} mature enough that they absolutely should not be handled without gloves. {{...}} Not necessarily a ''good'' flavour, mind, but sometimes one takes what one can get.
|Value 4: Recusant Marigolds = {{...}} regimented rows, vivid and many-petalled and glorious, the rosy orange of a sky in mid-surrender to the dawn. Here in grime-shadowed London, they look out of place – {{...}} even the whitest stucco in Elderwick cannot compare to the very walls of Hell.
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|Value 4: Recusant Marigolds =
 
|Value 5: False-Cantigaster Hybrids = Your hybrids are stunted and ailing, even grown under ideal conditions. The bleak, fleshy colouration inspires little confidence. Irregular pulses of foul ichors seep from beneath the caps, oozing between frills {{...}} These are not happy things.
 
|Value 5: False-Cantigaster Hybrids = Your hybrids are stunted and ailing, even grown under ideal conditions. The bleak, fleshy colouration inspires little confidence. Irregular pulses of foul ichors seep from beneath the caps, oozing between frills {{...}} These are not happy things.
 
|Value 6: Millennium Roses = [...] They are the ideal of roses: red as want, each petal [...] a waiting lip [...]. The Fifth City appears bleached in comparison to their bright perfection. On the Continent, they say these flower for a thousand years – how long will London's soil sustain them?
 
|Value 6: Millennium Roses = [...] They are the ideal of roses: red as want, each petal [...] a waiting lip [...]. The Fifth City appears bleached in comparison to their bright perfection. On the Continent, they say these flower for a thousand years – how long will London's soil sustain them?

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