Kindlewastes

Sand fills my throat... my lungs grow heavy with dust. The storm still rages outside, whipping drifts to dunes, and dunes to dust devils. Oh, how I yearn to feel the cold again... The sapphire coast, windswept waves glistening in the sun... Children sharing sun-seared yucca in silk hammocks... torturous memories, too bright to hold close... my throat aches.

Why did the Ancients forsake us after all...?

Field Notes — Day 19 of Yearwake, 507 D.A.

Believe it or not, water used to be plentiful in the Kindlewastes. Most of the residents are gone; they turned their backs on these lands when they became harsh and unyielding. Only a few remain. I sought them out, hoping for records of what had happened, but all I was given were parables.
One woman told me that the sun god had grown jealous and had drawn all the water skyward. An old man insisted that the lakebed had cracked open overnight and drained dry. Another one spoke of destiny — a long-promised reckoning finally come due. Not one account aligned with another, except in this aspect: they all believed it was an act of divine will. A punishment. A trial they are meant to endure.

What surprises me is their refusal to see what stands plainly before them. The Shroud has been spreading for years, bringing a host of abnormalities with it. They call it destiny, I call it correlation.

— Loraine Crim

The Kindlewastes hide many secrets — none more mysterious than the massive fossils of creatures long extinct. I have pondered the origin of their species, but this wasteland of a desert holds no answers. If you ask the local tribesmen, they will tell you the bones are of the gods, but I know this to be false.

I have theories, but need to do some more careful digging. I have a promising site in mind already.

—Loraine Crim

I met a shaman while investigating the bone graveyard. Quiet, unwilling to speak or answer my many questions. Atypical for a Kindlewastes dweller. An oath of silence, maybe?

Perhaps he lives amongst the fossils, as he seemed to revere them in a way I did not understand. When I uttered another question his way, he simply drew a rune in the sand... old hieroglyphics. I became intrigued.

I returned to East Lapis where the archive held a dusty codex for the runes the shaman wrote. I recognized the one he drew immediately, and its translation shocked me:

DRAGONS

An exciting journey begins! I am setting out from Brittlebush where I bargained hard for this map. I wonder if this mysterious Oasis is really as lush as that seller promised?

Regardless, I sold all my worldly possessions and purchased enough rations and water to get me there and back again! I almost didn't have enough, but selling my trusty Glider filled my pockets with plenty of coin!

Lucky me! I plan to camp by the ancient bones due east.

A blinding sandstorm struck my camp yesterday and buried my supplies!! Such horrific winds... unprecedented! I'm still coughing up sand, and I'm not sure where I've landed... everything was swept away! It's all gone, but I can't turn back already! I sold everything I had to find that Oasis!

What’s this…? There seems to be a shimmering in the distance. I could turn back, but I might be closer to my goal than I thought! Did the winds bring me near here...? A blessing in disguise?

I'm unafraid! I will investigate what will either be my salvation or my demise!

The forsaken mirage led me further astray!! I CURSE the man who sold me this map! Water! I need water!

My brain has rotted! I see visions!! I spot another oasis, real or imagined, just over the ridge! If I hadn't sold my precious Glider, I could reach it!!

Shadows overhead, spinning. A spiral, like an unwinding thread. I keep seeing a figure in the corner of my eye — some phantom, a ghost. Mocking me and my rotted brain!! CURSES! This cannot be my last written word! I must be remembered! Please, remember the name "Costner Meyers"! I don't want to fade away!

East Lapis is quickly becoming a ruined city... Famine and drought plague us. Thankfully, Uncle Dreadbane, as Sadie calls him, has taken us in for the time being... although this blessing may be a curse in disguise.

He carries that hammer everywhere he goes, hunched from the weight. I always hear him in the hallways, dragging it around, huffing. "It's for protection," he says. "They crawl below. I hear them. From the hollow core..." It's downright creepy. We need hope, not horror stories!

He went to fetch water from the well nearby, but it's been hours, and I'm worried. I'd go and check, but I think... I hate to admit it, but I think I hear it too. The crawl below...

The waters have receded and our ships are no longer worth the rivets that hold them together. I remember the days when I could fish for hours with father. How we bonded, how we laughed. The world was plentiful and kept us alive. Now we will surely tear one another to shreds.

When will this wasteland cease its cruelty against us?

Our previous expedition to the old Boneyard was a major success. I'll always be indebted to that stranger. Our fateful encounter revealed more than I could've hoped for, although I wonder how he knew those old inscriptions...

I'm beyond inspired. The library's runes showed similarities to ancient writing, so I've begun to analyze the Ancient Obelisks to verify my theory!

There's just one issue. I might have left my Scientific Instruments behind at Eldermere Dam when the Draconian Vultures came soaring — one shadow and I dropped them in a panic! Well, for now, my trusty glossary will have to do. It cannot be too hard, can it?

— Loraine Crim

Remember that woman, Kaori Conway? Remember how I told you not to entrust our shipment to her?

Well, she sent a messenger today — yes, her office is close by, but she wouldn't dare to show her face — and the messenger told me that our clothing shipment was "lost somehow". So that order of hats is gone. We better prepare a new batch... and next time, you listen to me and spend REAL MONEY on a REAL COURIER!
I hope that woman gets eaten by rats.

1... 2... 3... 4...
It's not working! Counting does not calm me down. I'm furious.
I am the Scholar of this village. It's my duty to collect the letters, the books, any offerings people wish to leave in the Night Sanctums. But Garrick... every single time I come by he hands me a stack of letters. I know he is a true believer—desperate for the goodwill of the Ancients.
I also know it's strictly forbidden to open the letters entrusted to me.
But I'm only human — and today I gave in.
And guess what I found?
Garrick has been spilling everything to the Ancients! Every little whisper he hears, every private moment he's not supposed to witness. And now comes the best part: he wrote that I have been cheating on my wife.

Yes, it's true.
I know it's wrong, but HOW DARE HE write it down? What if that letter had fallen into the wrong hands?
Unbelievable. I need to take care of this...

• Old Fen stole back his own offering. He's growing greedy.
• I saw the Scholar leave town again. He was not alone—and he was not with his wife.
• Eldon doesn't pray anymore. Only pretends when others are watching.
• Mira no longer—

(The entry ends abruptly. There are blood spatters on the page.)

Aunt Gertrude won't budge. She wants to stay at the home where she and my mother grew up. It doesn't matter that the town's dead, that everyone's gone, that she's all alone... She wants to live and die there. What a sad, old woman... she'd rather be with her bundle of strays than with the rest of her family!

I can't stand those dogs she lets into her house. They're always pregnant and full of fleas, like that "Pompom" she loves. I'm giving up. Tell your children not to wander to Shorewatch, or they might catch rabies! Or worse, fleas!

I knew something was up when I picked her up last! My little girl, Pompom, is pregnant!

I've set up a small, cozy space in my basement for her. She looks tired, but I trust everything will go well. I still remember when I took care of her mother, picking scrap metal from her spotted fur. Her family is hardy, and they've survived worse! With some luck, they'll even outlive little old me!

I'll have to set out many more doggy bowls. I want them to be safe and sound long after I'm gone!

Can you believe it? I wanted to chomp down on my roasted meat when suddenly, out of nowhere, this cat appeared and snatched my food!

I swear, it attacked me with the viciousness of a sabertooth! I ran after it for some time, but that damn thing was way too quick. Plus, I'm not running after a cat all the way to Sapphire Strand! I'm not THAT hungry!
So basically, I'm asking: Can I get another ration...?

I know we can't afford new clothes for the Harvest Festival, so I improvised... but I need your help!

I'd like to freshen up the colors on my old dress, but I ran out of orange. Could you get more from the market and leave the dye in the bathroom for me? I'll use the tub there so I don't make a mess with the colors. Don't worry, I'll clean it after!!

Thank you!

Got caught in a bad one today. Sandstorm hit just past midday. No warning, just a wall of wind and dust. Visibility dropped to nothing in seconds. I wrapped up as tight as I could, but it didn't matter. The sand found every gap.
My eyes are in bad shape. Feels like there's grit still grinding under the lids. They're so red, swollen—I can barely keep them open now.
No more moving tonight. I need to wait for the wind to die and figure out if I can even see the next landmark.

Turquoise waters glisten, golden sands
A dreamlike oasis stretches across the lands
Endless blue with crystal-clear skies
Air rich with warmth since sunrise

Turquoise depths that sparkle and gleam,
A liquid mirror, a living dream
Waves roll gently, soft as the breeze,
An ocean of blue with perfect ease

I was going to build the finest roof in our city. Sloped tiles, strong beams, even a little overhang for extra shade. Had it all figured out.
But then Jora said flat roofs were better out here. Said sloped ones just collect sand.
So here they sit. Dragged 'em all the way out here for nothing. Figured I'd keep them — just in case she changes her mind.

I'm telling you, Will — invading Ocean's Heart will be the last mistake you'll ever make!! Even without the Queen around... and besides, the girl's known for being humble! What do you reckon you'll find? Pots and paints? Poems and seafood? Perhaps you'll nab some Highly Polished Stone Blocks, but that can hardly be worth it!!

The earth becomes drier by the day. It crumbles betwixt my fingers into sand. I wipe beads of sweat from my forehead. Pale, sorrowful droplets stain the field. I doubt they'll find their way into the depths to feed the crops.

I pray, silently, for my lips are too dry to speak... but I muster a smile when I serve the little I have. I built this tavern with my own hands... therefore, I cannot rest, nor leave. I will work this soil until the end, as my ancestors did before me.
— Emily Fray

The sun has burnt the leaves. What would have been fruit and grain last year is ash today. I'm the only person still able to cultivate the land (and barely so). I gave away the last rations, baked the last bread. No more water to make soup, or ale to serve. No more customers, only people in need... blinded and blistered by the sun.

Is this drought really an Ancient curse...? Did we fail them...? Anger them...? I can't let my faith waver... It's all I have left.
— Emily Fray

Salvation! The people of East Lapis have gathered survivors for a caravan... led by queen Jezmina herself. When I heard her speech, saw the wind in her hair... I knew I'd follow. With the flame of devotion and courage, a light shines brightly towards new beginnings.

The queen is a marvel, determined, and enduring. Radiant. Beautiful. I aspire to be like her... to inspire people and lift them like she does. It pains me to leave my tavern, but as long as my heart beats, I'll build. I'll grow.... and hold on. Especially with my queen bravely leading the way.
— Emily Fray

My family and I spent the better part of a year searching for this land. I knew when I found just the right fertile soil — but I wasn't satisfied. And then, one day, we came over this ridge, and I saw the way the saplings sprouted. I could taste the nutrients in the dirt on the tip of my finger. That first season, my father was worried I'd made the wrong choice, but when the wheat came in, and we had bread for the yearfall (and money in his pocket), he told me how proud he was.

However, I outgrew the farm. I have packed my things and plan to open my own tavern in Brittlebush, and I could not be more excited to share my talent for cooking with travelers from far and wide. Before I leave, my mother wishes to send me off with a gift. I wonder what it could be?

—Emily Fray

No Honey Rootbeer, no Glazed & Grilled Yucca or Summer Spice Tea until my Beehive Smoker and honeycomb arrive from East Lapis! Until then: Creamy Tomato Soup, Stuffed Bellpeppers AND this week only: Draconian Vulture Wing Filet with varied vegetables!

Get it while it's hot!
— Emily Fray