This is being written under extreme protest.

My name is Zahra. I am being held against my will by a guild calling themselves the “Stormbloods”. Their representative is Gwynn, a half-elven mongrel whose presence fills me with stark loathing. He’s told me that he will be translating this script after I’m done writing it.

My life before finding my new family was a torrent of torment. Just like this room I am being kept in. Barely above a dungeon, and I would like to leave now please.

They’re calling me, from beyond that ugly thing! It hurts just to look at that brazen abomination! TEAR IT DOWN, FATHER! SEND

I digress.

I used to live in a small fishing town near Balmora. The living was good, and I even had a family. Three sons, one of them old enough to swing a blade. I was so proud of him.

I barely remember their names now. I only know that I loved them, still do. I will see them again, and find their names on my tongue.

My life in that town came to an abrupt stop when the vikings came. They pillaged and raped, as they do. My eldest son tried to defend me and his brothers. The copper-haired giant laughed as he ripped him to pieces.

It’s strange. Whenever I mention that particular monster, Gwynn gets this odd look on his face. I wonder if he knows of whom I speak?

So, the vikings took me. My remaining sons were gathered with the rest of the town’s children, shepherded into a house which was then lit on fire with them still inside. I was catatonic by that point, and the following voyage is a blur of painful numbness.

I’m sure the vikings did things to me. I am beautiful, and they were a bunch of unwashed northern dogs, spawned from Tiamat’s armpits. It hardly matters now.

Eventually, the voyage became a battle. I don’t remember the exact details, but the longship I was on came under attack by...something. The next thing I remember is being washed ashore in a place Gwynn calls the “Harpoon”. North of a thing called the “Brazen Bulwark”

DON’T LOOK AT IT, THE BRASS PROMISES PAIN NEVERENDING! Fear will strike you like HIS lightning.

Once I came too, I was greeted by a friend. The father I never had, harbinger of my new family..

A black goat, of a species I’d never seen before. It nudged me, headbutted me towards a forest. Still in shock at the time, I obeyed. When I got closer, the trees in this forest were different.

I recognise their beauty now, but oh how past me became afraid. Imagine a tree-like thing whose bark looks and feels like black scabs on a wound does. I touched one of them, an impulse I now recognize as yearning.

GO BACK! Belong to the pool, NEED

When I did touch some of them, they reacted. Then more than reacted. To my then horror, the scab-like surface on the base of one of these tree-things began to bulge out like a pregnant belly. The black goat nuzzled its nose against it, kind of like my husband when I was pregnant with

Which one?

The tree’s bulging continued, the bark splitting, revealing a thin fleshy film beneath...

What burst out of that tree made me scream in abject terror...I will never do so again. You Stormbloods think them a blight? How can it be?

An Orkh is nothing more than nature’s finest gift. The horns on their head, goat like and pristine. The tusks coming out of their caprine jaws make me feel so safe. Their eyes, glowing white with intent. Their bodies, slick with their loving excretions. Their hands, firm of grip and equipped with two thumbs on either side of their palms.

Their hooved legs, letting them run at exhilarating speeds.

One of them picked me up, carrying me towards our goal. The black goat ran next to us, in perfect unison.

I admit it. Back then, I was terrified. Frozen in fear. I knew not what they had in store for me. That all changed when they brought me to the pool. A briny, filthy thing filled with mother’s milk.

I can see taste her in the milky darkness. Hold me close, mother of endless

The orkh put me down gently, and offered me a palm filled with her milk. When I refused, like a fuzzy child, he insisted. No, he did not pry my jaw open! My memories may fail me sometimes, but that did not happen!

I drank willing and able. Once I did, all fear left. I could see the light of her endless everything, and knew then...that more is more.

more

more

more

The pool was made for me. They put me in it, attached the tendrils to everywhere they could. All those loving veins, pumping mother’s milk through the patron paths. All the trees in that Harpoon would be fed, thanks to me! ME!

Until they showed up.

Cursed knights of Talos. Brazen Bulls. They hacked and slashed the trees, killing my darling family. Taking me away from my boys once more, like the vikings did!

Gwynn says they rescued me. They didn’t.

He says that I need to be strong, that the milk isn’t out of my body.

What body? This severed flesh, vile husk that has been seperated from its destiny!

I’ve had enough! Mother calls me back to do my part!

C’yuth agakh za

C’yuth agakh za

C’yuth agakh za

C’yuth agakh za

C’yuth agakh za

C’yuth agakh za

C’yuth agakh za

C’yuth agakh za

C’yuth agakh za

You’re a fool Gwynn! You’re all fools, vile Stormbloods! YOu can’t stop him, Brazen bulls!

Take me back, C’yuth agakh zaC’yuth agakh zaC’yuth agakh zaC’yuth agakh zaC’yuth agakh zaC’yuth agakh zaC’yuth agakh zaC’yuth agakh za

They need me! I can’t bare to be without them anymore! I can hear them calling me from beyond the