The southwest coast of Monsun is desert streaked with meadowlands at irregular intervals, points where Ziziphus has begun to poke through the heated cast of what should be a bare and unforgiving wasteland. The swirls of buff-colored grass, green and gold stalks, and cups of brightly colored flowers are an uncertain contrast to the sweep of desert that ought to comprise most of Monsun's western half.
Nothing here, at least, mingles with any lumps of inarticulate shadow. The island merely terminates, eventually, in a jagged line of coast that hosts foam-crested waves as they slap up against the desert sands.
It's plain that the two landscapes have been overlaid atop one another, and it's probably not difficult to figure out why, considering how many of Ziziphus's creatures were preserved here in their flight from their dying island.
The downside to so much of Monsun's landscape being lost in a faded recollection of Ziziphus, of course, is just how present non-native creatures are in this landscape. An abundance of rootwyrms have taken up residence in the areas of B4 that have succumbed to the thick grasslands, and they certainly don't seem very happy to be here. Rootwyrms, by nature, prefer thick and verdant woodland - not open meadows and desert sands like these. To call this cluster of rootwyrms "displeased" would be an understatement; they're very eager to get out of this area, and they're all the more willing to lash out as a consequence.
While they can be potentially useful for resources - they leave behind a large, turtle-like shell upon death that might be helpful for building material, and there's possibly edible flesh beneath their thick, scaly hide - they are also an absolute nightmare to contend with. Between their capacity to spit corrosive acid at passersby, thick, barklike skin that's difficult to pierce, and their large and powerful jaws, the rootwyrm makes for a very dangerous opponent indeed.
And these ones happen to be really, really cranky.
MONSUN - B4 | Ⴄ PREDATOR
The southwest coast of Monsun is desert streaked with meadowlands at irregular intervals, points where Ziziphus has begun to poke through the heated cast of what should be a bare and unforgiving wasteland. The swirls of buff-colored grass, green and gold stalks, and cups of brightly colored flowers are an uncertain contrast to the sweep of desert that ought to comprise most of Monsun's western half.
Nothing here, at least, mingles with any lumps of inarticulate shadow. The island merely terminates, eventually, in a jagged line of coast that hosts foam-crested waves as they slap up against the desert sands.
It's plain that the two landscapes have been overlaid atop one another, and it's probably not difficult to figure out why, considering how many of Ziziphus's creatures were preserved here in their flight from their dying island.
The downside to so much of Monsun's landscape being lost in a faded recollection of Ziziphus, of course, is just how present non-native creatures are in this landscape. An abundance of rootwyrms have taken up residence in the areas of B4 that have succumbed to the thick grasslands, and they certainly don't seem very happy to be here. Rootwyrms, by nature, prefer thick and verdant woodland - not open meadows and desert sands like these. To call this cluster of rootwyrms "displeased" would be an understatement; they're very eager to get out of this area, and they're all the more willing to lash out as a consequence.
While they can be potentially useful for resources - they leave behind a large, turtle-like shell upon death that might be helpful for building material, and there's possibly edible flesh beneath their thick, scaly hide - they are also an absolute nightmare to contend with. Between their capacity to spit corrosive acid at passersby, thick, barklike skin that's difficult to pierce, and their large and powerful jaws, the rootwyrm makes for a very dangerous opponent indeed.
And these ones happen to be really, really cranky.