Ravaged Plains

- Items found in the Ravaged Plains -

- Creatures found in the Ravaged Plains -

Shoefang

Balaeniceps Venandi

The Shoefang are strictly pack animals, working together to take down prey much larger than themselves. The males seem to clash almost daily within the pack. Whether this is a courtship ritual or pure boredom is hard to deduce as after each bout the two seem to just slink away to rest, no further actions or grudges are held and within the hour there’ll be another two fighting. The pack I studied had hauled up in what might have been a theatre. Like all ruins of the Ravaged Plains it is hard to deduce, but I made out rows of large rooms containing the possible remnants of chairs facing a phantom stage. In one of these rooms I spotted a few nests, each with a single, large egg. As you might imagine, these were fiercely guarded making further study quite difficult. Their cries, a haunting twist of a guttural growl and birdlike clicking can be heard throughout the old buildings, signalling the start of a new hunt.

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Chapter Two : Vine and Earth

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The horizon always tells a story, no matter how mundane. If all it has to offer is trees, you are probably in a forest, and if all you see is water you are probably on a boat. If you would call these places stories, then the horizon that lay in front of The Mercenary and The Cartographer told a lengthy novel, left behind in some forgotten library to accumulate dust. Stuck deep into the ground, a sword taller than most mountains blocked out the sun. The once vibrant metal was now dull, and trees, moss and other plants had claimed the blade as a new home, as well as a variety of bird and lizard species. Stretching outwards from the blade, deep chasm sized slashes and cracks webbed the dry earth, winding around crumbled buildings and forgotten cities. Walking along the edge of one of these canyons, between protruding spears and halberds, were the mapmaker and his guard.

The Mercenary gazed over the side of the canyon, her stomach dropping at the sheerness of the cliff. Strewn between the two walls, she could see vines scurrying with animals and dappled with brilliant flowers, their petals being blown further down the ravine by a gust of wind and falling out of sight. Every now and then she spotted an old weapon jutting from the rock like an uncovered fossil, the most notable being the head of a battle-axe that a rockpigeon had used as a perch, building a nest on the old blade. Above ground was a similar situation. Jutting from the grass were hundreds of thousands of discarded weapons. Many had been snatched by raiders, leaving only those undesirable or too rusted to make a profit alone in the fields, choked by creepvine and dandelion seeds.

“Might I inquire your theory?” Said The Cartographer.

“About what?” Said The Mercenary. The Cartographer set down his luggage on the floor and started to rummage for something to eat, sitting under an outcrop of rock that jutted from the ground and provided some shelter from the cold winds. The Mercenary joined him, pulling from her satchel a loaf of bread and some cheese.

“This!” The Cartographer gestured his hands vaguely around himself, his eyes sweeping the uprooted world the two found themselves sat in. The Mercenary paused for a moment, thinking.

“I’ve never really thought about it, just accepted the stories I’ve heard as gospel. Big monster comes out of the sea, wielding a sword fit for a god. Gets in a fight with an actual god, both destroy the land around themselves, monster is defeated, god leaves for the heavens?” She took a bite from the makeshift sandwich she had made, the cheese sharp enough to be of interest but not too overpowering, but overall quite bland. She looked around at the jutting rock they sat under, taking interest from the wild leaves that plumed from the where the stone sprouted from the ground. Shimmying over, she inspected the leaves checking for any bugs or parasites, and then picked a handful. A slight rinse with her waterskin, and the wild lettuce added a peppery kick that her sandwich was missing. As she wondered if she could find a salt deposit among the churned stone, The Cartographer spoke up and she had almost forgotten that she was mid conversation.

“Seems to be similar to what I’ve heard too. The Wretch they called it, an abysmal beast from the deepest sea, draped in kelp and flotsam. A thousand faces and writhing limbs. That all happened quite a long while ago however, I feel whatever we think is probably skewed by time, no?” The Mercenary nodded in agreement, mouth full of food. What would people think of her in a thousand years? She finished her sandwich and stood up, brushing off the collected dust on her leggings.

“Are you off to somewhere?” Asked The Cartographer.

“Just going to scout ahead. Where did you want to go to?” She responded. The Cartographer’s brow wrinkled in thought.

“North East of here – No, North West. There’s an old observatory, barely recognisable as what it once was. Apparently, the telescope is rusted and ensnared with milky white tulips yet still works perfectly. I think that would be the perfect spot, don’t you?” The Mercenary nodded, in a moment she had pulled herself up the jutting rock, sitting at its peak. Far in the distance, to the North West, she could see a rolling dust storm crackling with lightning. Each flash showed a blurred silhouette of towering four-legged beasts within the clouds, and from a clasp on her belt she removed a small, scuffed notebook. Flicking through, she found a page dedicated to Thunderwalkers (Loxodon Tonitrua), accompanied by a detailed pencil sketch. The sketch showed they were large, tusked beasts with a facial trunk and a coating of thick fur leading to a swooping, feathery tail. Her eyes flicked through the entry until they landed on all she needed to know, ‘...Avoid when possible, these creatures are docile but the lightning that laps at their feet could fry even the hardiest adventurer...’ She sighed, and swung down to the ground where The Cartographer had begun to pack his things away.

“I wouldn’t pack up just yet.” She said, The Cartographer turned his head with a ‘Hmm?’.

“There’s a pack of migrating walkers heading exactly where we need to go. Probably worth staying put until they pass.” She rooted through her bag, and retrieved a small metal tin. Opening it, she was met with an orange glow and slow chirping noises as she removed what looked to be a bright orange tadpole.

“Keep an eye on this, would you? I’m going to go find some firewood to keep it fed.” As she said this, she dropped the tadpole to the ground and watched as it swam to a dead leaf and began to gnaw at it, like a caterpillar. Every bite the tadpole grew a little fatter and a little hotter. The Cartographer warmed his hands and nodded.

“It’ll be going nowhere under my steel gaze. Will you?” He laughed, and tossed the tadpole the paper wrapping of his lunch which it caught and devoured, suddenly becoming too heavy to fly and thudding to the ground with a sizzle. The Mercenary smiled, and turned to walk away.

“Oh, and don’t get taken by any ghosts!” Called The Cartographer after her. “You never know what died in this land.” She chuckled, and continued walking. Any ghosts would have to get through her first.

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