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Description

Well, I do have one, one that I think sums it all up pretty well. Have you ever heard of the city of Videreen? That's alright, most people nowadays don't recall that name either. And when you go back before all this happened, people still didn't know it. What was it before? A village, some little town no one ever visited? Honestly, people couldn't tell you. When you live a normal life, you don't pay much attention to things that don't involve you. Most folk only care about the town they live in and those immediately around them, everything past that might as well be the edge of the world. So when word of Videreen started going around, most people were clueless to what that was or where it was. There would be talk of the place growing, of it becoming more popular, but most people dismissed such gossip. It wasn't until the city's prized wine started showing up in bars and restaurants that people started to take interest. One sip and you would be like "this is the finest wine I have ever tasted!" Get that going around, and suddenly folks want to know where it is coming from. Well, lo and behold, it turns out one of the finest vineyards in all the land is practically in your backyard, and no one had ever given it thought! Follow that road and you suddenly find yourself at the gates of Videreen, and you will wonder why you never visited such a grand place.

It was quite the sight, I tell you. A city that felt like a kingdom. Grand gates that belonged to paradise, walls that were both works of art and flawless defense. The ornate architecture of the buildings and homes, practically pulled from a painting. The cobblestone streets were filled with market stalls and music, as people bustled through the winding corridors. I remember being absolutely stunned when we first visited it. I never thought such a place could exist in this part of the world. It was so beautiful, so lively. It was no surprise that this place had grown in popularity so fast, as whoever built or remodeled that town had really done a flawless job. People were coming there in droves, especially when they learned that there were vacancies. Folk practically cut and run from their old lives and homes to get a chance to become a resident in that wonderful place. What a perfect city to live in, to raise a family in. There was always so much going on, and yet it was perfectly safe. There were no incidents or trouble that occurred within those walls, thanks to their valiant knights. They kept the peace and they did so impeccably. Of all the people I've talked to who have visited that city, none ever had anything short of an incredible time there. Its massive growth and popularity made it the place to be, and the lord of the land welcomed everyone within his walls. Obviously all this love and tourism was doing wonders for him and his vaults. The gold that flowed into that city only fueled its growth and fame more, but the real selling point was that wine. The lord made sure to spread it far and wide, so that everyone who tasted it would be drawn to this magical city. So that they could stroll down those roads and see the endless fields of grapes that were destined for greatness, and then follow the vineyards to the grand city itself. No matter the time of day or where you stood, every glimpse you got of the place belonged in an art museum. I remember staring out at those vineyards and seeing the spires of the city rising from the horizon. Absolutely majestic. But funny enough, it was those vineyards that really started it all.

We visited that city a couple of times, either to track down certain clients or just because we were passing through. When work took us in that direction, why not stop by the famed city? We did try to find some work within those walls, but mercenaries were not really a thing in that place. Compared to those shining knights, "mercenary" was a dirty word. Just some thugs who work for money, not romantic or beautiful at all. We got to visit some folk and talk to higher ups, but they all declined our services and advised us to just enjoy ourselves. There were no beasts to slay or bounties to hunt here, as the knights did all the protecting. You could see that easily whenever they hauled the carcass of some great dragon through the streets, showing it off like a trophy. Those who tried to burn their precious fields or break into their golden vaults paid the ultimate price, as the knights dealt swift justice. I remember seeing a trophy hall filled with their heads, it was a popular place for wine tasting. Anyways, we went into those walls a couple of times, and every time we did, my one coworker would always be wondering about those vineyards. She would always go on about how they pulled off such a feat, how they got the grapes to grow so well throughout the season. It baffled her, but I didn't pay it much mind. Before she joined up with us, she did some work in vineyards from time to time, so I figured it was just professional curiosity. But after a while, her musings turned more towards suspicion, and she let us know what she was thinking.

"This species of grapes doesn't thrive here," she would always point out. "The temperatures fluctuate too much and its gets too cold. These are for warmer places." We would always ask if it was impossible to grow that species here, and she would say "no, but it is really difficult." So it wasn't impossible, just improbable. Not really a suspicious thing. But it was clear our words weren't going to change her mind. So finally I just asked her what she was thinking, of what she thought was wrong. All she really said was that things were "off," that something about these vineyards didn't seem right. At that point, she got another of our coworkers thinking. She wasn't one for wine making and plants, she was more versed in stone and sculpture. The doubts of her friend were getting her to take a closer look at stuff, and she started to raise her own concerns. Turns out the fantastic statues that fill the city are made from a particular kind of stone, one not really found around here. Not the craziest thing, as people buy fancy rocks all the time for grand projects. Her question came from the sheer amount of it found in the city: how did they import all that? Where did it come from? And how did word of that not spread around? A purchase and shipment like that meant a whole lot of gold changing hands, and that wasn't really a silent transaction. Now everyone on the team was starting to second guess stuff and point out things they thought odd, and at that point I figured we had to do something to satiate this curiosity. If the vineyards were so suspicious, then we would finally just visit one and see what was up.

The first curious sign was the fact that no one was allowed into the vineyards, at least not where the grapes grew. There were places to taste wine or buy it, but you weren't allowed into the fields or cellars. The folks said it was to protect the crop and also keep the techniques and recipe of their wine a secret. Understandable, but not the answer we wanted to hear. So we instead stuck with staking out the place, watching one of the vineyards from afar. We hid away so we wouldn't be suspicious, but at the time I thought to stay out of sight because we looked crazy. A band of mercenaries like us, just staring at grape vines and workers. It seemed really stupid, but I kept with it because it was really bugging her. I figured this little vigil would give her time to think and to confirm that nothing suspicious or nefarious was going on. Funny enough, I turned out to be the one who spotted the first anomaly.

We spent a few days staring at those fields through binoculars, and I hadn't noticed anything bizarre or strange. Just workers going to the vines and filling buckets with mounds of juicy grapes. Just back and forth, back and forth. Pick the grapes, bring them inside and then go out and get more grapes. It was just getting me itching for some of that wine, watching all that happen. Just the dozens and dozens of buckets and bins filled with that delectable fruit. And all those workers did was go back and forth picking it and moving it. I was thinking about that mundane task of theirs when it suddenly hit me. The people I had been watching all this time were going to the same spots again and again. They had a whole field of grape vines to choose from, but they kept hitting the same few spots over and over. There were entire rows being ignored, while they continued to haul overflowing buckets of grapes from areas they have visited a dozen times. I was never a farmer, but I knew that couldn't be right. All of us confirmed my observation, and we knew we had to take a closer look. It was finally time to do some breaking and entering. Once night fell, she and I slipped into the vineyard while the others acted as a distraction. Since she was knowledgeable in this area, I figured getting her up close to the crop would finally give us some answers. We only inspected two rows before she started pointing things out. There were no pests, not a single bug or blight to be found. All the fruit on the vine was flawless, so much so that we never even saw a single unripe grape. As we dug through the vines, I even noticed that they were impossibly full. It was a practical wall of fruit, so thick that you wouldn't think they could properly grow with such pressure. Not to mention that there was no sign of picking despite workers going at it from sunrise to sunset. How could the fields be so busy and bountiful, and yet be untouched? At one point we plucked off some grapes and gave them a try. We both spat them out in an instant: they were completely flavorless. Just bland mush to be found within those perfectly juicy looking things. So how the hell were they making wine?

We still had that question once we broke into the cellars, as we couldn't find any evidence that work had been done down there. Yes, the barrels, tools and casks were there, but there was no sign of use. No stains, no wear, not a single thing out of place. We eventually found the wine bottles, filled and stacked by the hundreds. It didn't seem off at the moment, until I realized that there were no empties. We could only find filled and sealed wine bottles, the finished product with none of the initial components in sight. If they were making this much, where were the empty bottles waiting to filled? They should have hundreds of them, but yet we couldn't find any. At this point, it was obvious that her suspicions were well founded. Something didn't add up. We got out of there, met up with the others and began to dive deeper into this investigation.

It didn't take long into our closer look to notice the anomalies. We were just tugging at the seams and the whole tapestry was coming loose. Our stealthier pal decided to follow the carts full of wine that left to city to be sold elsewhere, and wound up coming back to us completely mystified. Once those laden carts entered the forest, they just vanished. He scoured the whole woods and couldn't find a single track or print. Then when he waited for another to enter so he could follow, the first one suddenly reappeared with its coffers filled with gold. It simply exited the same way it entered, yet the wine had somehow been completely sold in mere hours. I went to the outside places that sold the wine and pried into how they purchased it. A few questions deep into the secret interrogation and you realized that the owners had no real clue. Records didn't match, money wasn't spent and they couldn't tell you who specifically dropped off the goods. It was like the stuff just appeared there on its own. We even cracked open a bottle of the wine and had everyone give it a try. The room was suddenly filled with the unanimous "that is the finest wine I have ever tasted!" But after that strange outburst, we tried to actually describe the flavor and came up empty. Though you couldn't stop yourself from thinking how fine it was, you couldn't actually say what it tasted like. The whole thing was a sham, but it turned out the wine wasn't the only issue.

One coworker was looking into the dragon issue, trying to see why the dragons despised this city so. When she got talking to the local population, though, none of them admitted to attacking the place. In fact, not a single dragon could name those that were slain by the city's knights. With a trophy room filled with dozens of mounted heads, there had to be someone who knew the fallen. Yet, no one came forth, and no one could even recall a battle taking place between dragon and Videreen knight. She would later go on to take a closer look at the stonework of the city, and found it to be impossibly made. No sign of chiseling, carving or scraping. There wasn't even wear or dirt to be found on a single brick, despite the time and traffic the city saw. We even attempted to figure out the economy of the city, on how it thrived on fake wine. In the end, we didn't even bother with the wine, as we quickly noticed that the city didn't have a single import. They sent out an ocean's worth of wine every week, but nothing but gold ever went into the city. No butter or flour for the bakers, no meat for the butchers, not a single material or ingredient brought in from somewhere else. And yet the marketplace was full, the store shelves were overflowing. They had a surplus of goods but not trail to explain how they even got there. Questioning the residents was useless, as they seemed to find excuses every time one of these discrepancies was brought up. Not only did we not know how this city functioned, the people running it themselves were completely clueless. Videreen had a beautiful veil for sure, but pulling it back showed nothing but a void.

Our deep investigation did not go unnoticed, as we started getting harassed whenever we entered the city. The guards and knights were quick to shoo us out of certain places, and the lord even called for us to be barred from entering. At this point, we had formed a theory of what was happening and it didn't take long to confirm it. Things were more serious than just fake wine. We chose to storm the city in broad daylight, as the place was heavily guarded at night and on high alert. No one would think of a foe brazen enough to charge in when everyone was awake and watching. We barreled through the guards at the gate and wrecked havoc as we plowed through the busy streets. Thankfully one of us is well equipped for clearing the way, as she pretty much bashed a hole through every stall, wall and platoon that was in our way. We finally fought our way to the lord's chamber and made our intentions clear to him. We knew what he was and what he was doing, he couldn't hide behind the facade anymore. At first, he denied it and accused us of being mindless thugs. He called for his knights to dispose of us with haste. But as we beat back his hordes, we yelled out every flaw and paradox that we found in his beloved city. We told him of his fake and flavorless wine, of the imaginary dragons that never plagued his lands. Of how his kingdom had no rhyme or reason, that it was nothing but a pathetic sham built only by the desperate and vain. Despite his efforts, he couldn't contain his rage any longer. Those entities can never let their ego be bruised, they throw a fit once someone denounces their "art." What folks had once thought was flesh and blood crumbled away into page and ink: the Uri-Kaa finally showed itself. A false king living in a fake world, one borne from fairy tales and romantic stories. It had written this city into existence, and was now fighting to the death to protect its illusion.

It was quite the battle, I will tell you that. It threw everything it had at us, even its own citizens. When it ran out of knights, it would send its pages out to cocoon some poor soul and morph them into another wave of crazed warriors. As we clashed, the whole facade started to flutter and tear. The stone walls of the chamber peeled away into crumbling scraps of paper, the wooden beams melting into lines of ink. The story was coming undone around us, as the writer grew more violent and desperate. Who knows how long we fought, but we finally struck the killing blow. An inky heart was pierced and the false lord was no more, melting away into soggy parchment. Our victory did not last long, as the death of the author meant the end of the story. The moment it perished, a terrible gale ripped through the room. We knew what it meant and ran as fast as we could. When we emerged onto the city streets, we could see it all coming apart. The wind that tore through the city was ripping it apart piece by piece. Every surface and shop was being torn away into sheets of scribbled paper, leaving only a yawning void behind it all. We rushed through the streets, desperate to get to the exit as the illusion collapsed. It was in our desperate escape when I saw them. It is an image I will never forget. The people of the city coming out of their homes, crowding the streets as their world faded. The looks in their eyes as the streets peeled away into nothingness and their livelihoods sloshed into rivers of useless ink. When they looked down at their own bodies and watched as their skin flaked away and their blood turned to black. Those haunting faces of people who never knew, who had no idea what had been done to them. Some of those folk were paper puppets from the very beginning, written into life to fill this false city. But many others had been people who came to this city in hopes of finding peace and prosperity, not knowing that it was feeding on them. That each day they spent within those walls caused them to be absorbed even more into this fake world, until they were nothing more than characters in another person's story. We couldn't save them, not matter how much we wanted to. They now belonged to another tale, one that was drawing to a violent close.

We got out of there in the nick of time, as the vortex of wind and parchment reduced the city to scraps. The fields and vineyards were sucked into the storm, leaving nothing but barren grass behind. There was a ceaseless fluttering sound, like the flowing pages of a never ending book roaring through the air. We looked back in our retreat one last time, to see the earth itself fold upward and slam shut on itself. The tome had come to a close, and the story was over. What was left was just a grassy field, as that was all that had been there before. No town, no village, just an empty stretch of land. All returned to what it once was, before the city of Videreen was written into existence.

So I think that story sums up why I hate the Uri-Kaa, why all of us hate them. What it did to those poor people, dooming them to nonexistence just so it could enjoy its little fantasy world. They don't care about people, they don't care who gets hurt. They are parasites, desperate for praise, love and fame. They will feed on whoever they can and enslave any soul they come across. It's disgusting. So that is why we hunt them. It isn't for fame or fortune, it is so that they never prey on another poor soul again. Speaking of the hunt, have you heard of that one famous cathedral down the way? The one with that incredible mural on the ceiling? Yeah, we have been having some suspicions about that one...

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It's the scariest thing of all! Pointlessly long stories about nothing! Ooooooooo! Spooky! But anyways, here is one of my Uri-Kaas being a wretched parasite like they do. This story is essentially what I think an RPG campaign with one of these as the baddies would be like, descending into false worlds and illusions to deal with the living art monster in the center of it all. Probably would get very meta too.

Description

Well, I do have one, one that I think sums it all up pretty well. Have you ever heard of the city of Videreen? That's alright, most people nowadays don't recall that name either. And when you go back before all this happened, people still didn't know it. What was it before? A village, some little town no one ever visited? Honestly, people couldn't tell you. When you live a normal life, you don't pay much attention to things that don't involve you. Most folk only care about the town they live in and those immediately around them, everything past that might as well be the edge of the world. So when word of Videreen started going around, most people were clueless to what that was or where it was. There would be talk of the place growing, of it becoming more popular, but most people dismissed such gossip. It wasn't until the city's prized wine started showing up in bars and restaurants that people started to take interest. One sip and you would be like "this is the finest wine I have ever tasted!" Get that going around, and suddenly folks want to know where it is coming from. Well, lo and behold, it turns out one of the finest vineyards in all the land is practically in your backyard, and no one had ever given it thought! Follow that road and you suddenly find yourself at the gates of Videreen, and you will wonder why you never visited such a grand place.

It was quite the sight, I tell you. A city that felt like a kingdom. Grand gates that belonged to paradise, walls that were both works of art and flawless defense. The ornate architecture of the buildings and homes, practically pulled from a painting. The cobblestone streets were filled with market stalls and music, as people bustled through the winding corridors. I remember being absolutely stunned when we first visited it. I never thought such a place could exist in this part of the world. It was so beautiful, so lively. It was no surprise that this place had grown in popularity so fast, as whoever built or remodeled that town had really done a flawless job. People were coming there in droves, especially when they learned that there were vacancies. Folk practically cut and run from their old lives and homes to get a chance to become a resident in that wonderful place. What a perfect city to live in, to raise a family in. There was always so much going on, and yet it was perfectly safe. There were no incidents or trouble that occurred within those walls, thanks to their valiant knights. They kept the peace and they did so impeccably. Of all the people I've talked to who have visited that city, none ever had anything short of an incredible time there. Its massive growth and popularity made it the place to be, and the lord of the land welcomed everyone within his walls. Obviously all this love and tourism was doing wonders for him and his vaults. The gold that flowed into that city only fueled its growth and fame more, but the real selling point was that wine. The lord made sure to spread it far and wide, so that everyone who tasted it would be drawn to this magical city. So that they could stroll down those roads and see the endless fields of grapes that were destined for greatness, and then follow the vineyards to the grand city itself. No matter the time of day or where you stood, every glimpse you got of the place belonged in an art museum. I remember staring out at those vineyards and seeing the spires of the city rising from the horizon. Absolutely majestic. But funny enough, it was those vineyards that really started it all.

We visited that city a couple of times, either to track down certain clients or just because we were passing through. When work took us in that direction, why not stop by the famed city? We did try to find some work within those walls, but mercenaries were not really a thing in that place. Compared to those shining knights, "mercenary" was a dirty word. Just some thugs who work for money, not romantic or beautiful at all. We got to visit some folk and talk to higher ups, but they all declined our services and advised us to just enjoy ourselves. There were no beasts to slay or bounties to hunt here, as the knights did all the protecting. You could see that easily whenever they hauled the carcass of some great dragon through the streets, showing it off like a trophy. Those who tried to burn their precious fields or break into their golden vaults paid the ultimate price, as the knights dealt swift justice. I remember seeing a trophy hall filled with their heads, it was a popular place for wine tasting. Anyways, we went into those walls a couple of times, and every time we did, my one coworker would always be wondering about those vineyards. She would always go on about how they pulled off such a feat, how they got the grapes to grow so well throughout the season. It baffled her, but I didn't pay it much mind. Before she joined up with us, she did some work in vineyards from time to time, so I figured it was just professional curiosity. But after a while, her musings turned more towards suspicion, and she let us know what she was thinking.

"This species of grapes doesn't thrive here," she would always point out. "The temperatures fluctuate too much and its gets too cold. These are for warmer places." We would always ask if it was impossible to grow that species here, and she would say "no, but it is really difficult." So it wasn't impossible, just improbable. Not really a suspicious thing. But it was clear our words weren't going to change her mind. So finally I just asked her what she was thinking, of what she thought was wrong. All she really said was that things were "off," that something about these vineyards didn't seem right. At that point, she got another of our coworkers thinking. She wasn't one for wine making and plants, she was more versed in stone and sculpture. The doubts of her friend were getting her to take a closer look at stuff, and she started to raise her own concerns. Turns out the fantastic statues that fill the city are made from a particular kind of stone, one not really found around here. Not the craziest thing, as people buy fancy rocks all the time for grand projects. Her question came from the sheer amount of it found in the city: how did they import all that? Where did it come from? And how did word of that not spread around? A purchase and shipment like that meant a whole lot of gold changing hands, and that wasn't really a silent transaction. Now everyone on the team was starting to second guess stuff and point out things they thought odd, and at that point I figured we had to do something to satiate this curiosity. If the vineyards were so suspicious, then we would finally just visit one and see what was up.

The first curious sign was the fact that no one was allowed into the vineyards, at least not where the grapes grew. There were places to taste wine or buy it, but you weren't allowed into the fields or cellars. The folks said it was to protect the crop and also keep the techniques and recipe of their wine a secret. Understandable, but not the answer we wanted to hear. So we instead stuck with staking out the place, watching one of the vineyards from afar. We hid away so we wouldn't be suspicious, but at the time I thought to stay out of sight because we looked crazy. A band of mercenaries like us, just staring at grape vines and workers. It seemed really stupid, but I kept with it because it was really bugging her. I figured this little vigil would give her time to think and to confirm that nothing suspicious or nefarious was going on. Funny enough, I turned out to be the one who spotted the first anomaly.

We spent a few days staring at those fields through binoculars, and I hadn't noticed anything bizarre or strange. Just workers going to the vines and filling buckets with mounds of juicy grapes. Just back and forth, back and forth. Pick the grapes, bring them inside and then go out and get more grapes. It was just getting me itching for some of that wine, watching all that happen. Just the dozens and dozens of buckets and bins filled with that delectable fruit. And all those workers did was go back and forth picking it and moving it. I was thinking about that mundane task of theirs when it suddenly hit me. The people I had been watching all this time were going to the same spots again and again. They had a whole field of grape vines to choose from, but they kept hitting the same few spots over and over. There were entire rows being ignored, while they continued to haul overflowing buckets of grapes from areas they have visited a dozen times. I was never a farmer, but I knew that couldn't be right. All of us confirmed my observation, and we knew we had to take a closer look. It was finally time to do some breaking and entering. Once night fell, she and I slipped into the vineyard while the others acted as a distraction. Since she was knowledgeable in this area, I figured getting her up close to the crop would finally give us some answers. We only inspected two rows before she started pointing things out. There were no pests, not a single bug or blight to be found. All the fruit on the vine was flawless, so much so that we never even saw a single unripe grape. As we dug through the vines, I even noticed that they were impossibly full. It was a practical wall of fruit, so thick that you wouldn't think they could properly grow with such pressure. Not to mention that there was no sign of picking despite workers going at it from sunrise to sunset. How could the fields be so busy and bountiful, and yet be untouched? At one point we plucked off some grapes and gave them a try. We both spat them out in an instant: they were completely flavorless. Just bland mush to be found within those perfectly juicy looking things. So how the hell were they making wine?

We still had that question once we broke into the cellars, as we couldn't find any evidence that work had been done down there. Yes, the barrels, tools and casks were there, but there was no sign of use. No stains, no wear, not a single thing out of place. We eventually found the wine bottles, filled and stacked by the hundreds. It didn't seem off at the moment, until I realized that there were no empties. We could only find filled and sealed wine bottles, the finished product with none of the initial components in sight. If they were making this much, where were the empty bottles waiting to filled? They should have hundreds of them, but yet we couldn't find any. At this point, it was obvious that her suspicions were well founded. Something didn't add up. We got out of there, met up with the others and began to dive deeper into this investigation.

It didn't take long into our closer look to notice the anomalies. We were just tugging at the seams and the whole tapestry was coming loose. Our stealthier pal decided to follow the carts full of wine that left to city to be sold elsewhere, and wound up coming back to us completely mystified. Once those laden carts entered the forest, they just vanished. He scoured the whole woods and couldn't find a single track or print. Then when he waited for another to enter so he could follow, the first one suddenly reappeared with its coffers filled with gold. It simply exited the same way it entered, yet the wine had somehow been completely sold in mere hours. I went to the outside places that sold the wine and pried into how they purchased it. A few questions deep into the secret interrogation and you realized that the owners had no real clue. Records didn't match, money wasn't spent and they couldn't tell you who specifically dropped off the goods. It was like the stuff just appeared there on its own. We even cracked open a bottle of the wine and had everyone give it a try. The room was suddenly filled with the unanimous "that is the finest wine I have ever tasted!" But after that strange outburst, we tried to actually describe the flavor and came up empty. Though you couldn't stop yourself from thinking how fine it was, you couldn't actually say what it tasted like. The whole thing was a sham, but it turned out the wine wasn't the only issue.

One coworker was looking into the dragon issue, trying to see why the dragons despised this city so. When she got talking to the local population, though, none of them admitted to attacking the place. In fact, not a single dragon could name those that were slain by the city's knights. With a trophy room filled with dozens of mounted heads, there had to be someone who knew the fallen. Yet, no one came forth, and no one could even recall a battle taking place between dragon and Videreen knight. She would later go on to take a closer look at the stonework of the city, and found it to be impossibly made. No sign of chiseling, carving or scraping. There wasn't even wear or dirt to be found on a single brick, despite the time and traffic the city saw. We even attempted to figure out the economy of the city, on how it thrived on fake wine. In the end, we didn't even bother with the wine, as we quickly noticed that the city didn't have a single import. They sent out an ocean's worth of wine every week, but nothing but gold ever went into the city. No butter or flour for the bakers, no meat for the butchers, not a single material or ingredient brought in from somewhere else. And yet the marketplace was full, the store shelves were overflowing. They had a surplus of goods but not trail to explain how they even got there. Questioning the residents was useless, as they seemed to find excuses every time one of these discrepancies was brought up. Not only did we not know how this city functioned, the people running it themselves were completely clueless. Videreen had a beautiful veil for sure, but pulling it back showed nothing but a void.

Our deep investigation did not go unnoticed, as we started getting harassed whenever we entered the city. The guards and knights were quick to shoo us out of certain places, and the lord even called for us to be barred from entering. At this point, we had formed a theory of what was happening and it didn't take long to confirm it. Things were more serious than just fake wine. We chose to storm the city in broad daylight, as the place was heavily guarded at night and on high alert. No one would think of a foe brazen enough to charge in when everyone was awake and watching. We barreled through the guards at the gate and wrecked havoc as we plowed through the busy streets. Thankfully one of us is well equipped for clearing the way, as she pretty much bashed a hole through every stall, wall and platoon that was in our way. We finally fought our way to the lord's chamber and made our intentions clear to him. We knew what he was and what he was doing, he couldn't hide behind the facade anymore. At first, he denied it and accused us of being mindless thugs. He called for his knights to dispose of us with haste. But as we beat back his hordes, we yelled out every flaw and paradox that we found in his beloved city. We told him of his fake and flavorless wine, of the imaginary dragons that never plagued his lands. Of how his kingdom had no rhyme or reason, that it was nothing but a pathetic sham built only by the desperate and vain. Despite his efforts, he couldn't contain his rage any longer. Those entities can never let their ego be bruised, they throw a fit once someone denounces their "art." What folks had once thought was flesh and blood crumbled away into page and ink: the Uri-Kaa finally showed itself. A false king living in a fake world, one borne from fairy tales and romantic stories. It had written this city into existence, and was now fighting to the death to protect its illusion.

It was quite the battle, I will tell you that. It threw everything it had at us, even its own citizens. When it ran out of knights, it would send its pages out to cocoon some poor soul and morph them into another wave of crazed warriors. As we clashed, the whole facade started to flutter and tear. The stone walls of the chamber peeled away into crumbling scraps of paper, the wooden beams melting into lines of ink. The story was coming undone around us, as the writer grew more violent and desperate. Who knows how long we fought, but we finally struck the killing blow. An inky heart was pierced and the false lord was no more, melting away into soggy parchment. Our victory did not last long, as the death of the author meant the end of the story. The moment it perished, a terrible gale ripped through the room. We knew what it meant and ran as fast as we could. When we emerged onto the city streets, we could see it all coming apart. The wind that tore through the city was ripping it apart piece by piece. Every surface and shop was being torn away into sheets of scribbled paper, leaving only a yawning void behind it all. We rushed through the streets, desperate to get to the exit as the illusion collapsed. It was in our desperate escape when I saw them. It is an image I will never forget. The people of the city coming out of their homes, crowding the streets as their world faded. The looks in their eyes as the streets peeled away into nothingness and their livelihoods sloshed into rivers of useless ink. When they looked down at their own bodies and watched as their skin flaked away and their blood turned to black. Those haunting faces of people who never knew, who had no idea what had been done to them. Some of those folk were paper puppets from the very beginning, written into life to fill this false city. But many others had been people who came to this city in hopes of finding peace and prosperity, not knowing that it was feeding on them. That each day they spent within those walls caused them to be absorbed even more into this fake world, until they were nothing more than characters in another person's story. We couldn't save them, not matter how much we wanted to. They now belonged to another tale, one that was drawing to a violent close.

We got out of there in the nick of time, as the vortex of wind and parchment reduced the city to scraps. The fields and vineyards were sucked into the storm, leaving nothing but barren grass behind. There was a ceaseless fluttering sound, like the flowing pages of a never ending book roaring through the air. We looked back in our retreat one last time, to see the earth itself fold upward and slam shut on itself. The tome had come to a close, and the story was over. What was left was just a grassy field, as that was all that had been there before. No town, no village, just an empty stretch of land. All returned to what it once was, before the city of Videreen was written into existence.

So I think that story sums up why I hate the Uri-Kaa, why all of us hate them. What it did to those poor people, dooming them to nonexistence just so it could enjoy its little fantasy world. They don't care about people, they don't care who gets hurt. They are parasites, desperate for praise, love and fame. They will feed on whoever they can and enslave any soul they come across. It's disgusting. So that is why we hunt them. It isn't for fame or fortune, it is so that they never prey on another poor soul again. Speaking of the hunt, have you heard of that one famous cathedral down the way? The one with that incredible mural on the ceiling? Yeah, we have been having some suspicions about that one...

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It's the scariest thing of all! Pointlessly long stories about nothing! Ooooooooo! Spooky! But anyways, here is one of my Uri-Kaas being a wretched parasite like they do. This story is essentially what I think an RPG campaign with one of these as the baddies would be like, descending into false worlds and illusions to deal with the living art monster in the center of it all. Probably would get very meta too.