Prickly

  Somewhere in a ft grassnd, an unnaturally massive heart beats. Every beat is timed with a small bit of growth by the heart. Flesh is attached to the heart, and some abomination made from the flesh emerges from a veritable wall of it. Another of the creatures drags a dead deer over, and throws it into the wall. The wall grer and faster for a moment, and a crude imitation of the deer emerges from it. This heart used to be dormant, uo find enough susteo grow, now the very air is filled with it, and meals nourish it more than ever.

  Somewhere retively close to the north of the heart is a bustlilement, unaware of the heart's growing ambitions. The people itlement are scared, they rightfully fear what is out there, as they had heard stories brought by the guards on patrol. Invisible creatures that assaulted patrols, unnatural darkness leaving cw marks on pieces of armor, men screaming as they are devoured by massive worms that stalk the nd. None of those rumors are the worst, as word has it that losses in the guard inspired the duchess to 'supplement' the security of the duchy with additional troops. Kobolds already roam the city scouting out hives of aablishment activity, and the churches are still as silent as ever.

  Far more nd-inward lies the capital of the nation this city belongs to, training drums beat as the people that fled here are being trained up to a standard that Faerune use to take back their try. It had requested troops from all its nobles, and only a few of the closest ones even bothered to respond. Only family could help family now as the thin veneer of a united civilization falls. The saving grace of the capital would be its proximity to a pary portal, a behemoth of a creatio tute travelers from [The Veil]. Today, like most other days this month the pce is flooded with adventurers seeking riches and body parts of creatures to sell to the highest bidder. Their survival ces are bleak, and the pay worse. Yet these people see not the wealth the kingdom offers, but the wealth that could be attained from the pieces of creatures or lost ruins. Some even pn to go above and beyond, trying to find [The Nightmare], and sell everything about a [Mythic] to the highest bidder. Such titles aren't handed out easily, and always indicate some urength that plenty would kill for.

  To the far west lies the Republic of Ri, beset upon by all sides. Initially it was a terrevolution, but it wasn't just the religious folk that were repulsed during the disaster. Neighb tries seeing the republic as aential threat have been pletely disjointed, and in no state to wage war. Ri is now attacked by gaunt, skinny creatures every night, and every night veteran revolutionaries repel them using a oly ied in the region. A fiend tramples this assault to pieces in exge for a part of the spoils, The Infernal Host had found its owh in the disaster through both the effective destru of the gods they fought so much, arey sending information oo Ri. They have no qualms making deals with the devil when they are already in hell, and the disposable demons that just o be re-summoned are the perfect terpart to the expensive le elites of Ri.

  Not far to the east in the mountains are the dwarves, they seem to be the least affected by the disaster, but that isn't saying much. Some dwarves of the Montagne- ride their mine carts with all haste, seeking to evade their pursuers.

  "Kill everything with more than two legs!" A dwarf yells while firing a blunderbuss behind them, the bst lights up the tunnel shortly revealing it to be crawling with massive is, the shrapnel from the shot kills a few of them, and staggers all of them as intended.

  "I think we're actually gonna make it!" The dwarf who sounds very happy at their tinued survival checks to see if their cargo is still attached to them, much to his dismay one of the bugs was attached to it as well and leaps for him, only for its head to blow and scatter blood all over the group as another blunderbuss shot saves him.

  "Those 'umies at Malencia better darn appreciate the republis! Rerouting and repairing all the broken rail ses was difficult enough already! Now we got a bug iion down 'ere as well! Couldn't this o over nd?" The dwarf grumbles as he reloads his gun, and throws a lit cigar to check if they still have pursuers. It seems the bugs have given up the chase for now.

  "Not a ce boy, surface is crawling with livin' horrors. These bugs are perhaps the tamest of the bunch. 'Eard that Ri is fag nightly raids of 'umie like beings, while in Malencia they ae walk outside in tha dark no more without being mauled by somethin'." An elder dwarf answers, no less grumpy than his fellows.

  "Forced to walk out ied sun? Gd I ain't no caravan weenie." All the dwarves nod in agreement, dying to hordes of monsters is in the job description, but no one ever says anything about long walks in the sun. It certainly doesn't help that they are short vertically challenged, and have trouble moving at the quick paces the surface dwellers are such fans of.

  "Strange fings 'ave been 'appenin in Malencia as well, 'eard that the streets are patrolled by monsters, and criminals get fed to them. Those magiuts out there probably messed up badly and are bein' ruled by creatures now." The dwarf looks around spiratorially, wary of someone unauthorized listening to his ramblings.

  "If they were bein' ruled by monsters, why would they buy gu for 'umies? Besides, tha entire world is goo the shitter, Malencia pays well, that's what matters." The dwarfs cheer at that, raising their ons as high as the cramped tunnel allows them.

  Republis to the west, moo the east, who cares? Gold is good.

  Prickly