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Journal of Danjoso Mirrigil, Entry 27
Complication knows no distance, it would seem. It truly is the most typical and disheartening folly one could trip across, and there is surely none more expectant to receive its mockery than I. . .
I was to sail and explore this enshrouded world, to take myself as far from those feuding lands as could be. Voyage and exploration were what I'd always aspired to do, and this infernal clashing - fury hailing from the Gods themselves! - is endangering the land I called home, while scarring its people's minds all the while. There was surely no stronger signal to suggest that now, in this shackled age, would be a wise time to take leave!
That war... is this truly the way of the Gods? To now bicker and throw punches across our mortal soil!? They surely cannot care for us. Which, if any, is truly our father and lord!?

But alas, I find myself equally as disturbed out here, upon these serene seas. For in all my knowledge and preparations, I hadn't even the sense to wonder if a new land's workings would differ from those I knew!
This land.... This peculiar forested isle. Something about it seems... different. Altered. I saw a colossal footprint in the plains today, that of a beast, and this odd atmosphere seemed only stronger around it!
This land's unique and unnerving properties are not my expertise. Not in the slightest. But perhaps some on the mainland, or back home, might know something of its like. I've just finished a quick render of a map, documenting the island.

The Newland Venture. 74: Decisive Findings?
A vast abundance of documents, scrolls, mapwork and cartographers' logs have gathered amidst our vaults over the years, each of varying importance and interest. In this troubled and tiresome time we face, it is these particular inclusions that we depend on. We need a land to call our own... one that will not torment the light of our hearts with a vial of darkness! One map, carelessly scribbled though it may be, stood out for the peculiar notes that accompanied it. Salvaged from a shipwreck, washed up by North Morytania, it described an island of immense and lush forestry, but is coupled with an atmosphere of miasma.
Curious, scouts scoured the co-ordinates the map had given, and lo, an island of forestry was indeed found! The mysterious presence in indeed there, but only seems to enshroud the isle's eastern side. It seems uninhabited, so we may well have discovered the privitable land we've desired for so long!
At first, I was surprised at the idea of a human sensing any change in nature's essence, but after realising its intensity, its seems all the more understandable.

~ Elder Anistasis Gremdore.

Insightful Scribblings
Ha! I did it! Me, the "cowardly runt who did nothing but sit and stare blankly all day"!! Well, go soak your head in the lake, ya bunch of ingrates! Ever stop to think a man sitting may actually be observing with those eyes of his!?
That eerie miasma, the ambience that has always seemed so out of place and unnatural, within the Seravail! I actually figured it out!
Y'see, it's got nothing to do with the gemstones littering the forest. The atmospheric energy doesn't spawn within them like everyone thinks, it was put there by the real cause, and now I know what it is!
That creature, the Gorreus as we've called it, is the source! However it attained such an ability, it has the power to strengthen the elements about it, giving rise to a more powerful aura within the forest! Frightful though it may be, if you were to go near the thing - or anything it's last touched - you'd notice an increase in the land's natural energies!
I've called the energy "Spirality", and if we could only find the means of harnessing it, we might have a power at our command even more potent than magic itself!!
Damn, I'm good!

~ Jicco Tavyin

Archives of Mylas Vanguar, Entry No.#8
It would seem that Tavyin was the last person who genuinely paidd Spirality much mind, and I must say I'm surprised!
Overenthusiastic as he may sound, he is correct; Spirality is an energy of gargantuan potential, and will prove undoubtedly useful in the plight of Eon's Antagonism. Why, already master Gexviolt has fashioned us unique weapons, imbued with the tempered elements of the land.
Had we not stumbled across Tavyin's journal we may've had to take an entirely separate path to make ends meet.
But this is just the beginning. An energy-made armoury is all well and good, but with a little research, we could uncover this power's finest and most intricate workings. If it revolves around the ways of the elements - the planet's life forces - could we, perhaps. . . reverse or hasten what they have seen and done? Could we rewind the path the elements have taken into crafting our world? . . .
If so...

I can barely bring myself to believe this power was ignored for so long.
The Gorreus must be kept safe!

The Gexviolt Reports: A Vessel of Spirality
Mylas's efforts into unravelling Spirality's nature has intrigued and enthralled me, to say the least. But I crave more. I crave our limited understandings to become full-fledged mastery. It must be so. It shall be...
An energy which tempers the very fabric of nature's weave, that's what this magnificent substance is. And now, rather than toying with blades and gimmickry made from the energy, I seek even bolder pastures. . .
A being. A genuine living creature made from Spirality! The Gorreus may radiate the energy, but it shows no signs of being able to utilise it, or at least wanting to. if I could craft life with such devastating power at its beck and call. . . why, even the Gods themselves would need to intervene!
A second God Wars, with I as its equivalent of Zamorak. . . Ah, but to treat myself to that much carnage would be perhaps a little too generous.
The test subjects i have gathered will begin construction, just as soon as I've established all that'd need followed.

Diary of Rodrick Spaire, Subject No.4236
I. . . no, we, we cannot bring ourselves to labour on this. . on this creature any longer! But if we dared stand up to Lord Gexviolt we'd. . . we'd surely. . .

This creature. This foul creation of Lord Gexviolt's! Even the gods would wretch at its unspeakable horror! It's so very young, yet so immensely powerful thanks to the master's instructions!
It knows us.
It w҉͡à͟t́͞c̢he̴҉s͢ us.
I̛t͡ h҉a̸te̵s us̸.͠.
It҉ h̵at̛es͜ ̧ev͟er̴y̧t͡hing͏. . ̢.̕ ͏eve̴ry͏thi͠n̕ǵ. ̢.͡ ..
Gexviolt hasn't a cl҉u͟e what he's created!
We can't stand it any longer! It's mind becomes y҉ouŗ m͠in͏d͝! ̵I̕t ̶dom̸i̸n͘a̧t̷es ͠áll҉ w̢i͡th̶ na̸úg͏ht bút̢ i͡t's p̷re͝sen̡se! I͔̗ ̵̠ͨ̊c͉̭̮̉͗͗̅ͬ̇̚ą̩͙̩͌ͦ̀̓̓̾̂n̖̦̐ͩ̊̿͌̚͜ ̪̳ͭ̽̾h̗͒̉͗̕e̠̠̬̣̟͎̰͌a̞͊͐͌͗̑̚͠r̯̮͒͑̉̄̈́ ̡̤̲̖̥̙͓̺ͯͧ̅͊i̴̙̭̘t̗̠̙̑̆ͦͪͨ.̿͊̈̅̂ ̬̥͓̬̪̬̙͞.̝͇̯̗͇ͩ̏͒̈́ͨ͂́ ͙̪̲ͧ̒̓̽̓ͧ̀̚.̨̱̭̯̠̬̜̓ͫͬͨ̏́̽ ̸͎̣̝͖̭̬ͭ̍̑̔ͅc͚̪͗͋̈́r̭̲̿e̢e̙̦̣͛ͪͪͭ̐p̸͚͗͊͗i̗̻ͥ̆̉ͫnͮ̇̈́ͯ̄͟g͉͚̼̙̠̻̟͒͋̑ͥ́͝ ̣̻͖̻̝̭ͯ̽i͈̱̣̯ͨ̂̍̇̃́n̻̙ͣ͗͂ͪ͛̄̀s͙̼̫̗̔̇ͥì̙̪̖͌̓ͫͭd̿ͫͪ҉̫̣ẹ͕̩̒ͫ̓͗͗̈́͋ ̪̲ͦ̇̂ͨͮͫ̽͢m̝̞̫̫͚͚̫̃y̗͗͛̑ͣ ͪ͗̓͗h͐̑̚͟e̪̺̘̙͈a̫͇̪͍̿̿ḏ̶̜̈.͎͈̘̜̯̟͒ͣ ͘.̡̅ͯ ̦̤̳̃̄̈́̀ͅ.̐̀͌ ̶͛͊͂ͥḯ͇̟̗̓ͧͮ̏ͪͭt̴̫̗͕̞͇ͬͮ'̲͈ͨͥ̃͋ͯ̕s̳̤͈̖͇̔̌́̏̇ ͕͙̩̹̠̥p̟̱͐͌̈͒o̞͌̅͛̾̏ͥw̖̟̪͍̭͗ͯ͂̊ͧ͒e̮ͯ͑̋ͭͨ͑̇r̴̤̤ͣͯͭ̄̎̈́ͭ,̵̻͍͚͓͎̯͋ͫ͂͑̒ ̢͍͈̤̮̼͍͍ͧ͆ͭ̃ụ̳̤͒ṋ̛͕̗̘͔͂̀̓̀ͧ͆r͌̍i̯̠͙͍̬̘̘ͮv̾̓͗̕ạ̫̲͙͚̯ͣ́̋ͣl̬̲̫ͬ̉͑͛̋ͩê̗̙̞͈̟̱͌ͣ̐̓͢ḋ̠̭̜̹̱ͨ̽!̻̳͇͆̉ͭ͗ͮ̎̿ ̦̻̖̮ͧͭͮ̓̎̇̉W̮̣͉͕h͔̭̱̩̫͉̐ͮ͘a̠ͯ̀t̰̗̲̞̖͎͋̂ͭ̈̉͠ͅ ̗̗̣̭ͤ̅ͭͫ̍̚í̩̰̫̬͉͇̰̚ś͖̬̺̱͍̜̚ ̜̼̱͓̬i̢̋͗ͯ̾t̟̤͟ ̗̰̗̱̑͒ͩṫ̪̩̪̤͖̺̺h̖̪̙̘̋̂͊̐ͮ̇͟i̦̲͒̄ͯ͒̔̊̄͝ṇ̶̲̫ͫkͫ̿͛͊̌҉̩͇ͅi͖̳͙̤n̨̪̪̗͕g̥͉̍̑̌?̺̙̬̓ͨ͌ͅ ͓̖ͦ̋ͨW̓ͮͦ̏ͤ̀̂͏̭ḥ̫̬͇͙̉̒ͅa͕̖̖̹ͦ̒̈́́t̲̩̎͞ ̥̲̮͍͕̎̌̿ͦd̜͌̅̔̄̈́͊o̶̫̪̩̝̅́ͪ̍e̝̘͔̟̔͐͑ͅs̥̝̥̺̗̃̈̃͂͗̍ͫ́ ͥͯȉ̻͈͔͔͔̯̿ͬt͎̗̱̬̥ͤ̿̊̽͘ ̠̣͍̍͆͑͡w͓͈ͭ̈͒͊̌̚å͖̟̠̬̅͗̿̍̿̑̕n̖͑̋̚ţ̠͖̰̈́!̣̞̞̤̺̄ͅͅ?̝̪̼̞̞͍̠͋ͣ͂̈́̌͝
W͑ͥ̐҉҉̹̞̣e̢͋̅̈́ͧͩ͊҉͙̱̰͖͔̪̭̤'̷̩̮̥͎͎̳͎͉͋͒̔̿́̂ͥ͋v̵̛̪̐́̏͑̓ͭ͢ẻ͛ͮ͏̤̝̦͈̘̮̜͍ ̶͕̻̫̱̦̓͑́c̑̽͑̍ͪ̓̔̑̚͏̯̫̥͎̬͟r̟̟͔̼̙̂̔͗̓͟e̶͎͍̼̤͔̼̯̘̰ͭ͑ͬ̂ȁ̵҉̰͙͎͈t̢̩̦̭͇͍̟̅͒̓ͣ̚̚ė̶͓̳͔̣̥̲̓̆͒ͪͭ͂ͣͅḋ̺̙͍͓̇͞ ̠̰̝̰̾̈͑ͭ̐͑͑͜a̙̦̿ͧ̿͑̚ ̱̝̮̞͍̬̭̺͓ͦ͘m̸̬̤̥̘̣̫͔ͧͦ̍̌̔ͥ̈ȯ̦͋n̘͔̰̥̤̮͙ͯ̎͌̒̀͜͜ş̴̶͔̬̮̘̰̤̘͂̈́̅̑̍ͯ̈t͖͙̱͚̗͕̿ͥ̎̔̐̕e̫͓̙ͬ̅̏r͉̗͉͈̣̬͗̽̑̈́̑͊͐̋ͅ!̐ͬͪͮ̿̊ͬ҉̧͇̟͇͓̱͜!̷͚͇̦̏͋͋̐̏ͪ̇͘ ̜̣͍̤͛ͮ̄̅̋̊̓ͨÑ̷̬̯̈̚a̦̰͉͛̀̂̏͘y̷̩̭̳ͤ͌̉͂̔͛ͥ͂̚͠,͈̻̭̫̣̊ ̸̢̠̗ͭ͗̕w͛̎҉̰e̡̛̺̣͙̝̓͐ͤ͒ͬ̓'̸̗͈̰͇͍̫̪̖̤͂ͫͨͩv̵̩͓̞̒͟e̟̯̹̲̪̿ͮ́ͅ ̵͙̖̂̿̿́͡c̢̗͕̱̪̞̤ͬ̀r̸̠̩̩̩̯̊ͥ̎́̂ͫ͒̈͊̀͡e̴̴̺̪̩̣͚̎͛̕a̶̠̼̥̣̒̋̾͗̈́͐͡͡t͔̫͎͍͔̟̉͌̎͂͛̏̀e̵̫̭͇̮͖͕̜ͪ͒͋ͩ̐̊ͩd̯͖̠̳̤̱̺̫̬ͥ ̬̩̺̠̰̥̋ͭ̏̔͑ͣ̌͒ã̡̛̜͇ͯ͗ͣ͌́͐̓̄͠ͅ ̵̤͇̗͚̠̲̜͙̓̌͗̏G̙͔̺̲͎̩̗̬ͭ̊O̫̻͕͓̦͕̮̅̒̎ͧ́D̷̡͉͙̝̝͓͐̎ ̞̮͉̫̙̻̰͍͐̂̐͞a͔͕̜͉̜̦͊ͤ́̊̄̕͠͠ṃ̳̎͡ọ̧̘͒̋ͫ̂̃́͜n̤͈̩̦̣͍͍̟ͥ͛̐ͨͣ̽̆̑̍g͇̦̹̟̳͙̫̻̑ͤ̂̐̉̕ś̳̗̣̙̲̣̀ͭ̏͐͒́ṯ̙̰̗͂̏̾͑͂̂̂̑ ̙̰̮͌̊́͠m͕̱̬̦̰̜̝̿ͧ̀̋̑͑̽̔́̕͠o̪̝̳ͦ̎͗ͮ͒͟ͅn̡̯̠͖̣̪̅̌s̶͖̞͓̩̖̩̝͗̐̇ͥ̀ţ̧̻̻͉̠̞̳̻̱̄͑̅̓ͧͯ̀̚ͅé̡͔̞͒ͯ̽ͨ̌r̢͓̽ͥ̑̂̓̍s̺̺͔̻̗̭̆̇ͤ͟!̺̜̳̞̳̠̣̄͌ͮͅ ̬͇̜̪̬̎͐͠͡Ş̵̷̛̖͚̼̙̫̝̗͔̜̬̼̗̯͓̣ͪ̿͒̾ͧͤ̊̊̏̆̔̎̐̐ͤ̔ͣͥ̀ụ̣̩̟̭͙͕̳͔͚̪̈́̇ͮ̾͌̏͌̋́͘c͓̥ͯ̏ͣ́̒̋ͭͥͭ̌͑̇ͮ̂̄͐ͯͭ͘͘͡ͅẖ̮̣͖̩̣̯͍̥͖̼̖̿͌͐͐͆ͫ̀ͤͦ̇ͪ̄̿̎͒̅ͨ͋ͦ̀͜ ̸̡̛̬̹̠͕̭͔̫̻̟̭͈̮̝̻̟̦̗̼̍̈́ͭ̿ͮͯ̾̍ͥ̄̓ͨ̂̾̽͂̊͂́͝h̴̨̥̻̣̬̱̜̮ͤ̔͂̂̓ͩͨ́͌́ͯͯ́̚͡a̧̟̤̼̮̺̬̟̮̱͕̼̘͚̼̬͋ͪ̀ͣͤt̸̏̒̆̍ͪ̑ͣͧ̽̍͏̵̪̜̟͖̣̯̞͉̹̙̗͖͓̭̺̫r̷̴͖̯͇̲̪̹̼̦͖̯̳͎̬͎̫̻̙̄͊͐̈̾̎ͨ̃̒̆̊̈͗̚͡ę̣͎̠͉͇͓̤̟̙̥͒̎ͯ̆ͨͯͭ̌̆ͬ͊ͭ͆͢͝d̫͇͎̖̦ͨ̾͒ͨ͋ͪ́͡ ̡̹͚̙̳͚̦̥̌̈́ͤ̇ͪ̄̾̌̀̚͠a̛͒̀͐ͮ͋̐͑͗̆ͨ̈́͏̗̹̲̪̤̬̻̹̜͚̞̩͙͎̻̳͝n̛̼͙͇̝̞̣̮̫̯͇̭̦̪̹̗͎̈́͗͛̒̋̇͌ͬ̽̓͒̒͒̏ͫ̆́ͅd̵̴̲̺͇͇̻̥͓̐ͭ̄̑̋ͧ̓ͧ͗̑̑ͯ͒ ̶̢͙̯̞͈̦̩͔̜͇̹̮̤̹̻̎̌ͥͯ̓̈̿ͧ̊͆̀͋ͯ̓͒̂̾ͦ̀͢͠s̤͍̦̣̼͕̓ͥ͛̐ͦ́̕͜͝a̷̡̯͇̟̙͖͉͔̗͚̭̺̼̘̙͔͍͙͐ͧ̓̇͌̄͛͘͜ḓ̶̝̩̹̠̙̫̲͎͇̰̟͉̅͛̓͋̀̓̕i͔̮̣̳̰̰̝͉̫͓͈̲̔ͫ̋̐͒̒͂́͘͟͞ͅs̸̝͓͔̭͎̥͔̼̫̪͉̺̤̺ͨͧ̉ͫͫ͂̾̽̌ͫͧ̃̊̓̐͞ͅͅm̡̙͈͙̣̠̦̤̱̪̫̤̱̠͖̦̋ͬ͑̊̆͞͠ ̸̛̞͍͙͇̜̜͓̖̹̙̺̤ͩ̇͐̑̾ͪͫ̚͠ͅd̙̪̝̳̭͚̪̰͇͔̘̤͎͇̘̦͂͛͆ͯ͒̀̽̿̆ͮ͋̏̂̔̅̑́͢ȩ̢͓͈̱̞̪͔̫̜̠̩̟͚ͩ̀ͣ͑̈̓̉̌̕͝s͕̱̻̺̞̞̝̮̔̓ͤͣ̄̅̀̀̕ͅe̸̳̞̟͎̯̫̗͔͓̟̻ͭ͂̐ͮ̇͗ͬ͆̽̂͞͠͡r̢͚̥͚͉̼͚͍̦͖̲̤͛ͬ͂̓̀́v͋͗̓̇͘͏̣͙̞̭̤̞̜̣͜͢ẽ̶̖̗̺͙͖̑ͦ̿̇ͪ̔̋̓͛̇̇͊ͫ̒ͥ̿ͤ̀s̸̶̨̯͚̩̟̰̪̉ͭ̾ͩ̐̄ͤ̍͐̊͋̇̾̍̐ͮ́ͯͅ ̵̨̢̡̪̝̱̤̩ͮ̀̈ͨ̍̉̀̀̑ͪ̿͆̂ͯ̑́ṇ̴̼͈͈͎͇͖̱̫̽ͣ͑ͮ̒̏͛̍̿͗ͣͭ̚̕o̴̭͎̠̞̱̳̳̫̫̲ͭͨ̌ͨ̎̇͜͠ͅt̷̢͖̰̦̗͙̹̫̫ͤ̐ͧͦͭͪͪ͗ͤͧͬ̾ͩ̎ͭ͋̓ͅ ̵̧͋ͭ̿ͩͣ̊͊͊͋͗ͭ̐̚͠҉̥̖̣̱̯̹̰̙i͋̅ͨͫ̃̅̅̆ͭ̎̎ͬ̐ͩͯͥ̚͏͚̩̝͇̻̰͙̞̮̺͇͈͎͈̩̦̼͜͡ṫ̨̳̫̣͇͇̼̿ͪ͗̏̾̈̀́ș̶̸̯̺͍͓͈̣̥̘̹̟̞ͥ̉ͦ̂͐̆ͮͥ͒̽̐́́ ̴̡͇̬̩̩̻̲͈͗ͧͤ̓̊̋̏ͤͣ͒͛͑̽́͞ę̎ͯ̾̇̓́͆̍̏ͧͩͥ̄ͮͭ͊̾̍͟͢҉̗̜̜̱̞̮̮̰̮̖͍̺̝͕̤͙͎͍́ͅxͨ̃ͤ̒̎̅ͣ͆̏ͯ̑͑͏͡҉̛̘̱̝̝̳̳̦̱̭̻̞i͛ͪ͂̂̽ͮ͌͏̡̨̞̭͈̬̕͢s̏͗ͯ̓̍̿̍̿̈̇̓́͏̡̯̱̙̼̯͕̻̟̹͓̙̥͖̻͍͘t̵̛̰̙̭͉̙̪̭ͭ͐͐ͯ̊ͫͭ͘a̷̧͔͇͈̭̮̅͌͛ͨn̨̜͕͙̭̓̾̅̓̍̾͆̈́̋͟͟͞c̓͂̽ͭͥͧ̆͢͏̵̳͙̭̰̱̲͕̼͇͉͉̞̠̼̝̪̘͟e̷̵̡̛̝̬̥̻̲̼͚̜̙̩̼̭̍̋ͮͩͣ!̵̨̉̽ͪ̆ͥ̓̽͐̓̈̓̉̅̓̉͂̾̃͂͞͏̺͚̪̣́ ̷̵͚̣͔̼̝̗̜̦̥̦̗͈̲̥͚͉͎͗̓̈ͤ͂͑͆̒ͤͫͨ̀I͔͇̯͚̝̱̪̠͖̾̄̂̆̌ͮͤ̈ͫͣͩ̚͘͟͡͝ ̶̵̮͙̼̟͇̭̩̣͔̦̘ͧ̓͋ͭ͐̾̂͞o̷̢̡̻̝̹͉̲͋̒̍̉ͥ̑̉͋̈̋̒̚͟͡n̷͍̠͚̺̫̞͖̬̭̟͙̗̞̅̎͒ͨ̾ͥͮ̊̅̐ͩ̐͊̍ͬͦ̒̚͠l̷̛ͨͧ̅͑ͣ͏̳͈̯͕̘̲̣̬̣ỳ̷̊̅̾̉͋̾̎̓̐̇́͏̷̨̡̻̭͉̣̻̼̞ ̧̧̙͎͇̱͚̗̗͈͚͔̮̘̣͖̝̟̬̬͇̽ͩ̌͑̚̕͡p̶̛̛̺̺̫̝̫̟̩̻̪͉̜̤̠͕̜͍̘̙̖͐ͭ͂͑ͤͨ͐ŗ̷̩͉̞͖̱͚͍͎͖͉̥̔ͣ͆͂̽̋͂ͫ͑ͫ͜͟a̩̗̘͚͇͐̈̆̏͋ͫ͗ͫ̊̾̍̀͞y̴̛̫̼̻̣̪̺̺̩͍̻͍͈̥̖͔̪̻̓̀͐̎͋̍̄͟͠ ͉̝̬̯͚̠̠ͭ͛ͥ͗́͂̒̃͌̀́ͤ̐ͭ̀͞I͓̖̫̠͈̙̖̱̳̝͙̰̗̝̳͊͛̋͒͛͗ͨͮ͛̈̇̓͊̈́ͮ̐́̀ ̴̭̝͉̹̣̳͖͕̼ͫ͋ͨͮ̉̿ͯ͆̉̊͂̄ͯ̐͜m̫̗̙̖̭͓̱̭̙̔͂̂̎̀̅͋̌̂̐̀͜ḁ̧̛̼͉͍̝̠͕̼̼̊̈́̏̋͂͛̂͞y̡̢̙̭̬̩̙̤̯̩̖̔̈͐̾́ͬͥ̉ͧ ̛̗͕̲̪̬̲͚͎̩ͦ͆̈́̋ͣͮ̀̃̉̅̌͒ͦ̽̅͑̂ͩ͢͠s̸̛̲͍͚̮͉̈́̂͑̃͛ͥ͋͂͒͘ḛ̸̶̞̖̳̱͔̗̝͔͎̻̐͛̄̾̀́̀̚ę̶̡̭̥̪̪̠̳͉̠͛̅̐̏̚ ͯ͆̓̓̌ͫ̓͑̋͂ͪͬ̿͟͏̷̡͇͙͎̯̝ͅl̸̶̓ͪ́̍̾̎ͦ͌̔̆̊̋͆ͮ̃́͏҉͓̪̝̼̫͉͔̥i̸̡͇̪̯̤͆͗͐͌̋̿ͩͣg̦͇̙͔̦͇̻̝̯̙̪̻̩̙̹͓̠̰̽ͬ͊ͥ̍̇͑̀̓ͮ͜͝ͅh̘͍͕̠͔̖̩̰͉̞͙ͦ͊ͦ̏̈̈́̽͗ͮͦ̽̿̒ͪ̾͐̚͢t̞͔̬̯͍͔͖̱͙̰̪̲̦̙̙̰̘ͦͭ̐ͫ͂̉ͩ͊́̕ ̦̜̜̲̥̠̝̂̃ͫ̾̋̐ͥ͊͌̅́͋ͯ͑̽̇̂̾͢͜͝ả͈͍̗̠͎̖̟͕̜̩̼͆ͩͮ͐ͣ̅ͭ̈́̄͋ͮ̅͋̐̾̊ͦ̀͜͡͡͞ͅg̨̛̬̼̝̗̣͓̜͔͙̳̬̭̲̗̣̰͖̙̽̍̓̓͊ͤ̚ͅá͎̙̳̥̬ͫ̌ͥ́ͪͥ̇͛͜i̸̸̢̨̠͚̖̲̯̩̯̩ͯͫ̅͛ͪ̔̆ͭ̅̚̕n̴̵̥͉̖͖̳̣͎͚̪̽̇ͪ́͑͂̿̾̀͝ ̢̉̈ͣ́̾ͫ̈ͤ̐̊̅ͫͦ͒͘͏̫̺͕̳͇ͅb̸̸̨̪̫̱̞̗͖̘̝̣͂̈ͯͤͧ̓͂̿̉̐̐ͦ̈́ͭͪ̀e̟̻̘̥̲͎͖̝͚̩̙̱̣̭̯̮͍̟͖ͣ̽ͭ͑̒̄ͪ̽́͟͝͠f̶̋́͒͆͆͌ͩͦ̋̿҉̤̠̝̼̦̲͈͖̥̮̲͉̖͔͘ơ̢̞̰̺̝̒͐̾ͭͤ̀͊ͣ̃̕ŗ̱̘͔̼̣̠̬̤̹͚͖̃̓̃̇ͧ̂̆̑͂̂́̚͢͠ͅe̶ͤͬͭ̾͋̊ͬ͑ͧͨͥͥ̈́͋͆ͯ͛͏̷̡͉͇̻̘̘̭̲̼̖͔͎ͅ ̛̛͓̥͈̹̇ͣ̓̆ͫ̆̓ͤ̑ͤͪ́́I̳͍̖͓̫̣͍̝̳̠͈̭̾̀̅͋ͦͤͩͣ̓͡͝ ̴̼̝̲͙͈̓̂ͮ̂̈̆̾̀ͨ̀̽̓̓͂ͮ̀̀-̶͑ͨͩ̓̂ͮͨͭ͋͞͏͈̤̝̮̠͔̯͙͍̙̟͕͇̪͖̳̘̘͎


True suffering is not known. True suffering is not known. tr̵ue ͟s̨uff̨er̴in̛g҉ ͡i̴s̴ ̴no̶t ̷k̛nown.̨ tr̵ue ͟s̨uff̨er̴in̛g҉ ͡i̴s̴ ̴no̶t ̷k̛nown.̨ tr̵u̸͝͞è͡͠ s͠ù̕͞ff̢͏ȩ͏r͞i̷͞n̕͟g i͢͞s̛̀ ͏͏n̷o̡t͘ ̷̀ḱ̸n̵̡͘ǫ̨̕w̛͟n͏.̶ tr̵u̸͝͞è͡͠ s͠ù̕͞ff̢͏ȩ͏r͞i̷͞n̕͟g i͢͞s̛̀ ͏͏n̷o̡t͘ ̷̀ḱ̸n̵̡͘ǫ̨̕w̛͟n͏.̶ t͏̡̡̛r̵̷̸̨̕u͘҉̴́e̸̸̶͡͡ ̷́͜s̀u̶̢f͘͜f̡͞҉̷̀é̡r͘͠͠͏i͢͢n̵͘g̕̕͠ ̡̛̀̕̕i̧̧s̶͘͡ ҉̶̧n͘͢͡o̵͠t̸̡͡͡͏ ̷̡́͟ķ̸̀͠͠ń͘͟͝o͞w҉̀́͢n̸̷͘͟.͢͏̢ t͏̡̡̛r̵̷̸̨̕u͘҉̴́e̸̸̶͡͡ ̷́͜s̀u̶̢f͘͜f̡͞҉̷̀é̡r͘͠͠͏i͢͢n̵͘g̕̕͠ ̡̛̀̕̕i̧̧s̶͘͡ ҉̶̧n͘͢͡o̵͠t̸̡͡͡͏ ̷̡́͟ķ̸̀͠͠ń͘͟͝o͞w҉̀́͢n̸̷͘͟.͢͏̢ t̶̨̀̏͊͒̅̃̀̀҉̪͇̤̮͖̲͖̠̘ŗ̛͕͎̞̠̳̺̬͍̳̻̻̳͙̹͇͈͊̇ͨͯͤ̈͗̓̏̌͐͛͊ͩ͋̀ͅuͧ̌̎ͭ̍ͩ̂ͧ̄ͦ͋̉̿͐͆̚͡҉̷̧͍̪̭͕͔͍̜̝̝̣͕̭͓ͅḝ͎̯͍͖͈͕̩̳͕͙͉̹̫̜̩̩̩̭̐̊ͣ͐͆͛͒̈́͒̔͊̀́͞ͅ ̢̛̤͇̩̻͖̗͓̣ͥ̀ͨ̊ͪ̎͜͢͞s͓̱͎̟̳̞̫͎̺̝̥̤͓ͥ̋́ͮ̽̒ͭ͐̒́͠ͅu̴̠͓̝͖̺̲͕̖͎̘̤̽̾̈̓̓͐̆͗͑̋́ͅͅf̴̶̡̨̧͕̳̲̠̖̞̘̓ͮ̄ͨf̵̴̳̺̞̹̥͕͍̘̻͈̟͔̮̬̹̳͛͊̑ͥ̀̀͠e̤̩̳̹̣̲̩͓͓̼̱̙̲̊ͮͬ̔̃̄̍͘͢͞ͅr̈ͨ̇̏̄ͨ̚͞͏̵͏̝̤̳̞̳̖̮į̶͌̋͌͒̀ͨ͒͗̓̊͋̚͠҉̵̳͈̬̜̙̣͙ņ̟̼͍̜̬̜͚̭̼̓̆̐ͮ͐͋̓̂͘̕g̸̦̩̝̝̙̘͍̙͔̖͖͍̳͇͙͙̪̹̦̅̃̅̒̂ͣͩͤ̄̉ͩ͋̈͒̌ͧ̚ ̵͉͙̬̹͕̦̂̊̆̐ͤ͆̆̄̒͘͡i̸̸̢̮̲̙̱̲̣̣̻̮̪̠̗ͦ͐̅̓̆ͬ̽͗͑̾ͨ̎͌̉͆ͅs̛͓̤̟͈̒̃ͬ̀̉ͤ͢͢͝ ̒͋ͯ̎ͩ͆ͮ͌̆ͭͩ̑̋͌͌́͡҉̺̣̖͉̤͍̜̞̭̦̱̰͘͠n̢͓̺̦̹̫͇̯ͯͥ̆͋ͭ̈́͛́̕͞͝͡ͅo̰̮̫͖̥͇̹͊͆̇̏̓̓̿̽̽̏̿͌͡͝͞t̿́ͫ͒͝͏̣̦͚̙̤͎̝̮̳̫̗͙̠̰̣͕͇́ ̸̧̠̦̫̘͈̳̟̳̹̖̙̫ͮ͋̊̐̈̊̿̂ͣ͋ͅͅk̵̷̡̧̩̣̟͎̳͖͈͇̖͙̞͓̯ͫͯͣ̄ͦͪ̄ͦ̒̊ͣ̅ͣ͡ň̨̯͔͍͙̯̹̲͔͖̯͖̥̗̬̊͑ͨͩ̓͒̃ͦ̈́͘o̷͖̳͙͔̟̝̰̖͈͔̟͊̽̄͗͡w̨ͦͬ̎̈ͯͭ҉̠̰͙̝̲̣̙̱̪n̎͗ͦ̈ͫ̒ͭͮ̎̆̒̓̚҉̶̡̥͇͕͖̭͚͘.̣̞̝̘͖̳͔̜͇͉͖͓̼̪̱̙̋̑ͫ̎̓̈̆ͩ̇̾̌̾ͭ͊͋͝

The Gexviolt Reports: A waste, and naught more.
Disappointment barely covers my feelings. The creation is too powerful, and sealing it away proved quite a struggle. So young. . . so unknowing, yet so chaotic!
If only such power could be commanded to the degree I desire!
The Test Subjects were the ones who suffered, but so long as they and they alone were damaged, there is nothing to worry about. More can be found just as easily as the last crop. . .

It's been some time since i saw it last. And one can't help but wonder what occupies it's time, deep below the Onlooker's Isle.
Truly, I wonder how the Drageaus is doing. . .

The Werefroxes don't support any particular religieon. They acknowledge the Gods and their plights, but refuse to take any side. This is due to the way they've observed the world through the ages - When it really comes down to it all, the Gods seem to desire nothing but power, something the werefoxes find difficult to respect.

As for the Zarosians, most werefoxes know little about them. But those who know a more sizeable amount think of them with interest. Due to the limited info on Zaros's earlier regime - as well as the mighty nature of his remaining followers - his order is something that sparks quite a bit of curiosity.

Oh to be back in the days when no-one even knew Zaros... when they would ask if you meant Zamorak or whether you meant some real-life deity.

To be technically accurate, what is the species name for the werefoxes?

Is it Vulpes Sapien or Homo Zavianthropus (considering they are from Zavionce)?

Depends if they evolved from foxes or humans.

I'd think it to be Vulpes Sapien, because Homo Zavianthropus would be partly censored(homo).

I don't think that RuneScape's crappy filter should really be factored into anything.

Honestly I think it should be Vulpes Sapien, but that's just because I think they should've evolved from foxes

They are actually a really well disguised over-mutated frankly ugly species of chicken.

Lol @ chickens