From Nuishe's journal

---

Despite his size, general sharpness, and tendency to casually walk away with any objects that catch his interest, I find Agrogaster's company surprisingly pleasant. And, judging by the glowing reviews he receives from the creatures under his care, I would say I am not the only one.

He is a gentle, protective soul. He seems to have a strong parental drive, or at least something that spurs him to nurture things smaller than himself. It reminds me of the way Cyathus cares for all the other Ridgebacks as if they were his hatchlings.

While many of the animals, beasts, and other various non-dragon creatures that reside in this lair have taken roles as familiars, Agrogaster takes it upon himself to care for all of the "extras" that can't seem to find a place with the others. He has made them all a network of caverns split off from our own lair, tunneled out solely on his own.

He thinks of everything, and tries to meet all his charges' needs. There is a long loop of level tunnels for centaurs to get some exercise, there is a small hidden exit to the surface so harpies can take to the air, there is a patch of plants (not fungi, shockingly) for grazing - he even maintains a pool of relatively clear water, which he's been known to wade into for cleaning. From what I've seen, he's even resisted borrowing his charges' personal effects. He would likely make a good ambassador to the Beastclans if we ever needed one.

Agrogaster is drawn to weakened and defenseless creatures. He collects and treasures objects nobody else wants. He has a fascination with small, delicate things. He doesn't walk around looking for attention or praise for his work, but he is quite talkative once someone initiates a conversation with him. He gushes about his wards like a new parent.

I'm sure this isn't entirely wholesome. I'm sure the Blight is using him to test whether it can take control of creatures other than dragons, and if it finds it can't, I'm sure it's trying to find a way as I write.

That's a worry for another day. I'm too tired to get worked up about that right now.

---

This morning, one of Agrogaster's harpies returned from a long flight. She'd left with two others, but she came back on her own. She clearly wanted to tell Agrogaster something, but her emotional state had made her already broken Ursegal nearly incomprehensible.

Agrogaster is keeping a close eye on her. She's shed so many feathers from stress that it's a wonder she made it back at all. He's fetching food and water for her, checking in regularly, sitting by her when she requests it - generally pampering her like a parent whose hatchling had a brush with death.

To be fair, that may be exactly what's happened.

---

She's finally recovered enough to piece together the story of what happened to her and her friends. With Agrogaster at her side, she managed to tell Cyathus about her trip, and he relayed it to me when I pressed him.

It's not good. It's not good at all.

The flight was uneventful for the most part. They crossed over several territories of Sornieth, avoiding dragons and other beastclans. Everything was going well until they passed over the Sunbeam Ruins.

They heard a horrible noise. She couldn't replicate it, but she compared it to the wail of a mother whose egg fell from her nest, or the scream of a warrior who watched her best friend perish. It was like death itself was howling at the glaring sun.

The harpies went to find the source.

The source And it the source was a nightmare something terrifying incomprehensible.

---

I'm sorry. I couldn't continue. I've had some time to cool down, and I'm sure there's a rational explanation for everything. According to the harpy, the source of the noise was the kind of thing only seen in night terrors.

Three Imperial corpses, melded into one, animate and hungry.

Fire spewed from one of its three rotten heads, singeing one harpy's wings and knocking her out of the sky. The second harpy dove to catch her, but one of the nightmare's heads caught them both.

Our survivor could only watch.

It can't be real. It's not real. The harpies must have fought with three perfectly normal, ordinary Imperials who mistook them for hostile beasts. Her two friends were killed and, in her shock, her mind invented the rest.

I don't want to imagine that it could be real. I don't even want to entertain that possibility, because I know it isn't true.

I don't want to think about an indestructible amalgam of corpses feasting on the living, unstoppable by anything except its eventual decay.

I don't want to think about what might happen if my pleas are answered, and this lair - along with the four four and a half? Imperials living within it - is wiped out.

I don't want to think about how the Blight has clearly demonstrated it can use a dead dragon as an effective host.

I don't want to think at all.

---

---

I'm always looking for art of him! The two types of art I'd like the most are goofy intentionally bad art and wholesome beginner art.