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I am a survivor. The only survivor. I stand before you now to warn of the incomprehensible horrors beyond our home. In all the centuries I have walked these halls I have never encountered a force as strange and lethal as the Frontroom. How many of us have fallen victim before I got lucky? I can only postulate. But now I work to keep you from certain oblivion.

Survival Class: Eldritch

>All Prey Is Dangerous, Armed, and Organized

>Incomprehensible Hostile Euclidian Terrain

>Every Inch Is Covered In Hostile Life. Absolute Infestation.

DescriptionThe Frontroom is incredibly hard to describe. Our home is orderly and consistent. If the level has walls, you will find walls everywhere. If our level has streets, you will find streets no matter where you go. In The Frontroom it is chaos incarnate. Towns share space with parks. Forests are populated with boulder fields, rivers, lakes, and mountains. Structures rarely if ever repeat adding a maddening uniqueness to everything in sight. Going in a straight line means that you go in a straight line. You cannot turn a corner 5 times to get to your destination, you just end up walking into the same room over and over making escape a predictable confusing nightmare. Every inch of the place is covered by some sort of entity, even in the ground. I once studied a small hill I saw small creatures coming out of and started dissecting it out of curiosity, only to recoil in horror as the small creatures started fearlessly and relentlessly attacking, swarming all over my body and biting me with no regard for their own lives. To attack something hundreds of times their size! Rapid! Insane! Normally I would escape by phasing through something, but it doesn’t work. I can’t explain it. It’s like reality is just… Wrong. The Frontroom prevent you from willingly clipping.

Weather exists too, but it is also random. One moment it snows, then it rains, then it hails, and not in the steady repeating patterns such skyfall is known for. The quantity of stuff ranges constantly scattering randomized particles across the randomized landscape. The wind picks up and slows down on a whim. And that’s not to mention the celestial objects hovering above. One sun, one moon. At first I took comfort in the steady day-night cycle, but as time passed I realized I was gravely mistaken. The moon would show in the sky in the day, and the sun would slightly shift orientation every rise. I managed to survive long enough to realize that the days were even getting shorter. I shudder to think of the implications of such a function.

There is no almond water. Just… Water. They call it water. It’s a strange clear substance that irritates my skin and falls from the sky in the pre-mentioned rainfall. It’s highly toxic, but everything in The Frontroom is able to drink it without repercussion. A truly cursed existence. If that wasn’t bad enough half of us fell to the very air itself. It’s all poison, and within a day that half fell dead from sickness. You understand? There is a 50% chance you just die outright. This, however, is just the landscape. I haven’t even started with the inhabitants.

Entities

There are too many to count, but I will tell you about the humans.

Humans, our prey: In our home the occasional stray or group appears. They are sometimes dangerous, but such is the way for one desiring food, skin, whatever have you. The Frontroom is their home. There are untold thousands of them, millions perhaps. I daresay their numbers may be limitless, but that isn’t a good thing. Every human is armed and dangerous. With a few isolated exceptions they are all organized and can summon each other from vast distances. They live in houses, but not just that. They change them with custom decorations and scatter refuse everywhere as if to spit in the face of our existence. Even the appliances inside are powered and utilized. I remember attacking one such house and being tripped up by the confusing terrain, and within minutes dozens of armed humans were at the door coming to kill me. I would run and hide, but this my friends is their natural habitat. They tracked me with unparalleled precision, even after I realized that the sky was watching me for them. In our initial attack on one of their settlements they brought in devastating machines of war. Iron cages that threw explosions. Flying contraptions that carried a vast array of projectiles. It was impossible to fight. If you find yourselves in The Frontroom for any reason, do not engage the humans, no matter how hungry you are.

Entrances and Exits

Entrance: The entrance lies at the bottom, hidden behind layers and layers of comforting and defined non-euclidian geometry. We happened upon it by chance, but now I stand guard to dissuade any who dare to enter. For now it lays unknown to the humans in The Frontroom, but if the worse should come to pass and they find it, we will have to rally in defense of our home. It will be a conflict like no other. I implore you, spread the word: Prepare.

Exit: The exit is not defined. As easy as it is to walk through the door leading to The Frontroom, it is hell to get back. Somehow, after being driven to near death by the humans, I clipped through the ground right before my demise. I do not know how I did it, or perhaps what did it to me, but I count myself expended of luck for the rest of my life.

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