Vukah and Wildlife

Fenny, I've just about had it. For WEEKS now I've been complaining about the wolves. They're getting braver by the day, prowling 'round the house at night!

I promise by everything holy and good that I will leave you in the dust, with nothing but rye and bean soup! Grab the axe and drive these wolves away at once!

This arena belongs to a warrior clan defined by violent conquest. They gather on this hillside to wage gladiator battles where the lone survivor is crowned — what I've come to call The Brawler.

Despite sharing voracity, these Vukah conduct different rites from the ones who've overtaken Fort Kelvin. While their rituals of sacrifice may diverge, blood spilled is blood gained in the eyes of their deities:
Proto-beasts that reign over earth and sky, born of flesh and made eternal through totems — able to bless, and to damn.

Vukah... do your immolations seek to impress, or to appease? When you left your homes to haunt mine, was it to conquer, or to flee? What force of nature, what damnation, what faceless god brought you here?

I have to uncover your secrets, but inching closer would be certain death. Perhaps, when the Brawler lay sleeping... I could spy further.

Marianne Reed, 498 D.A.

"Morwenna" would be as quiet and peaceful as my late aunt, I imagine... if it weren't for those pests!

They gnaw at everything I build! From barn to edifice, monument to manor... ripped to shreds by wild beasts! It's as if they're laughing at my artistry!

They weren't always so ferocious. Forced to leave their natural habitats, maybe? Is it this spreading blight people whisper about? Aunt Irvetta says they seem "scared" more than anything. Back then, I couldn't see her point... which she blamed on my one remaining eye. I did not find this jest to be funny.

I planned to name a town after you, too, dear Irvetta. Once. Now, perhaps I'd consider a village. Maybe a hamlet. Or a hovel.
You're my least favorite aunt for a reason, Irvetta!

Cade Hawthorn, 500 D.A.

Weary Traveler — Fort Kelvin is the last stronghold of peace and a place for all survivors. We welcome refugees of the Elixir Wars with open arms!

Please find me, "Jakes", in the market for a ration of nourishing stew as well as a warm, dry cot where you can rest.

Let's build a home that can outlast the Shroud, together!

First, it was a rumor. Then, a dark premonition. Now, we cannot deny reality any longer: Reports from beneath Fort Kelvin are true!
Creatures unseen burrow here and threaten our survival! They dig upwards, shaking the ground... Do we abandon our post for the shrouded wilds outside our walls — or stand and fight the beasts coming from below?

We must keep this place safe! After all, Fort Kelvin is our last retreat!

If any soul finds this, take heed: Fort Kelvin has fallen. The Vukah have bested us. Though we fought bravely, the beasts proved too powerful — they have an aura of unearthly might.

Their wretched gods bestow them with the power and valor to rise above man... for the price of spilled blood. Seek their idols, and claim their might should you want to put an end to this tyranny... Whether it will be enough to turn the tide, I cannot say...

- Jakes

You've always been my favorite nephew — young and spry! Otto, my old bones rattle. I can hardly care for the Lush Pasture anymore... a shame! Such sprawling fields, ripe and bountiful! Perfect for a young lad like yourself.

I will leave this peaceful homestead in your caring hands!

These creeping sprouts have entirely wrecked my yard!!

They burst through the soil faster than I can cut them down! Vile things, spitting bile and brine! All the fields rot, and the decay spreads ever deeper... There's no saving this pasture!

Blast it all! I'll pass this problem on to Otto, that foolish fledgling, and start anew elsewhere. Never liked him much anyway... snotty brat.

We need to speed it up. Sameth wants us to join him in the mine — Mark of Sameth — as soon as possible! Take the shortcut if necessary — he doesn't accept any latecomers! How much harm can a few measly vines really cause?

The horror! Caught in a rainstorm, we were searching for a place to stay dry and rest... We heard them scratching and growling... they must have smelled us because they attacked unprovoked. One of them ripped Christophe's head clean off! His body dropped to the ground like a wet grain sack, and his club slipped out of his hands before he could use it.

The beast was covered in thick, matted fur, with huge tusks jutting from its mouth. And when it roared, the sound was so strange and ear-shattering. VUKARRRRRR!!! I will be haunted by it for the rest of my days.

Aster, you wimp! If you really want to prove yourself to Myrtle, invite her out to the edge of the farm — where those odd rock formations can be found. Then try to cross them, leaping from rock to rock. See how brave she thinks you are once you reach the other side! Yes, I think this will endear her to you for the rest of time, my friend!

— Jax

Aster! I found Jax's note to you. Heed my warning — you are brave enough in my heart without attempting such foolish feats!

I know you only just moved here from the Springlands and have much to learn about our home. First and foremost: never ever play amongst the rocks on the farm! For they are not rocks at all, but the protective plates of the Dune Armadillo! They'll snatch you up and pull you underground right quick! And who will take me to The Harvest Festival then?

— Myrtle

In a realm of tales untold,
Where shadows dance, mysteries unfold.
Flying creatures, strike from the sky,
Their warning shadows, swift and high.

Beware the darkened winged sprite,
Their presence brings a chilling fright.
Listen close to whispers old,
Secrets shared, their stories unfold.

Children, learn from ancient lore,
Guard your steps, forevermore.
In the land of dreams and wonder,
Heed the shadows, never blunder.

The foul creature took poor Galen — right from in front of us! We stopped to rest, quench our thirst, and have a good conversation on our way to market when the skies blackened with soaring beasts! Everyone says to take cover when you see a shadow swooping overhead, but there was nowhere to hide! Galen whipped out his bow, ready to hunt the things down — but they attacked from the direction of the rising sun! He was blinded, surprised, vulnerable — and then, he was gone.

The attack came so quickly... but I saw where the creatures took Galen. Their nest is not far.

I've returned from the other side of the basin empty-handed.

The farmhouse there has got creepy crawly spiders all over! You can't take a single step without walking into a web! I don't care about the rations or the loot in the attic... I'm not setting foot near those spiders again! No matter how low our supplies are, they can't force me to go back there.

Can't I join the Cyclops Scouting Team instead?