Explorers in the Agrilla Pass are often beset by a strange creature of palpable self-loathing. The oral tradition of Agrillan survivor descendants mentions a creature composed of the negative energies the civil war and slaughter left deep-rooted in the land. A creature of anger was born as spirits who could not find a host, and were bound eternal to that cursed place, coalesced at one point. At first it was furious that it could not leave the Pass to fulfill its desires. Then, the contrasting points of sorrow of the many that made the whole caused self-doubt withi the creature. The more it tried to leave, the more impotent it felt. It felt more and more helpless, more and more anguish. Years of isolation made it a wreck of pure emotion. An empath feeding of the negativity of others, welcoming all pain they bring. It is irreproachably twisted into feeling pathetic and it is cursed to remain that way forever. Even though it accepts defeat, the pull of the land is too strong – it comes back. But the words is speaks… are these its own or is it reflecting your innermost sorrow and fear? Is it merely giving your most crushing emotions form?

Forged in the antediluvian womb, born of the Earth and borne on its cascading soil. The seed, the source, the timeless sentinel that bore the rest of its kind. The leavening agent of the plant kingdom. Promoting growth, permitting their spread. Yet long years separate the wizened from the progeny of their progeny. The primeval becomes weary, but the vigilance never fades.

How carelessly refuse is discarded and forgotten in the dark crevasses of the urban wilderness. The tainted overspill of human laziness given shape, given life, given new purpose. Reveling in the filth of the world, gathering it up and making it its own. Serenading the Earth with garbage. And we revile it, a superficial damnation of a creature we see as garbage. Or perhaps it is reviled because it is a reflection of our own waste. But it has adapted, it is alive, and it will inherit the trash of humanity.