Welcome to the 'Wild

The badlands called the Riftwild earned the name from the spontaneously opening portals throughout the region, giving way to hundreds (possibly thousands) of undiscovered extraplanar entities. The land that was already inhospitable and sparse became even more so as the rifts continued opening and closing of their own accord.

But for those with a career in hunting monsters, business booms like the traps they set under these ever-yellow skies.

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A postcard and letter found on a courier in the Riftwild. It’s addressed to someone named Reyna in the Morryn township.

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Hey Ma,

Sorry I ain’t written you in a while. Farm was overrun with grizzle-birds for a couple weeks so we were busy boardin’ up and hunkerin’ down, like Pa would always say. It was quiet here for a long time. Shoulda known somethin’ was comin’. Turned out the town was overrun too, so no wonder help came slow.

Long story short, some rifters helped us out. It was that bunch that people been talkin’ about lately, if you heard of 'em. I could tell when I saw their goat.

Adelaide started talkin’ ‘em up, of course, askin’ more about ‘em than she’s ever asked about the farm. But I could see 'er light up with every word they told ‘er, and she asked if I’d tell you ‘bout ‘em next time I wrote you. So here goes.

Hatti was the first of ‘em to go lookin’ for others. Was a local of a livestock village a couple days north that ain’t there anymore. Rift opened right in the middle of town, she said, and she and her goat, Dr. Nomples, are all that’s left. So they started walkin’.

They ran in with Ol’ Mack, dwarf feller, when he was sellin’ gadgets somewhere. “Testin’ the mettle of his metal,” he kept jokin’. And Ma, the fella smoked his pipe the whole time they got at those grizzle-birds. I think he’s the one that made all the gizmos they were fightin with, too. Weird fella.

I’d say the same about Rowen, the mask-wearin’ one, but they’re the most respectful one o’ the bunch. Kept the mask on the entire time, only words they said were thanks for hostin’ ‘em and compliments to Alina’s stew. They ate that with the mask on too. I don’t know why they thanked us when they were the one doin’ the most critter-killin’, but I didn’t ask. Hatti said Rowen’s killed more than the rest of ‘em combined. They met Rowen when they saved the bunch from a bind with some kinda…what was it? A “rift patron” they called it, but I asked to skip that story. For Adelaide’s sake, I mean.

There was the little loud one, too. “Burns,” they called ‘im. He kept jawin’ off about all manner o’ things, dwellin’ a bit on how Rowen’s only killed more critters ‘cause they got better gadgets from Ol’ Mack and how he can’t do as much without his old patron. Rowen told ‘im they could sort it out like they did last time, and that got some chuckles from the others, and finally some quiet from ‘im.

I let the bunch stay in the barn loft that night. Least we could offer for savin’ us was supper an’ a roof.

They left early this mornin’, ‘fore I was even up. Loft was plenty cleaned up too, ‘cept for the bot they left behind for Adelaide. I showed it to ‘er after she and she loves it. I hear ‘er showin’ it around the house still. I hope it’s good for helpin’ with somethin’ 'round here.

Anyway, I know this letter’s been longer than usual, Ma. I just wanted to tell you how excited Adelaide’s been. You know how bad she wanted to meet a rifter. I’m glad it was this bunch. Rifters are a mixed bag. I hope she doesn’t get any ideas though.

Say hi to Pa,

Cleon

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Click here to visit the Wonderfullest Archive, or download any of the files above!

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Looking for a little preview of Riftwild? Check out the Whistlebolt, sent along with every Treasured Realm in July, and Imbue Trap, featured in every Fabled Foliage. Click the file below to download!