-The Vomammoth-
Lurking in the endless caves of Narshe is the fearsome Vomammoth, sometimes called the Megalodoth by the scientific community, due to its gigas-sized frame and power. With icy blue tusks and claws that seem to glow in the dimly lit caverns, it can rend its prey to shreds and does not hesitate to do so if given the opportunity. The lumbering brute has the appearance of a bear-sized mammoth, and the heated rage of a rutting boar. How often have slumbering Narshe inhabitants been awakened by this great beast's bellows during mating season? How often have careless miners been gored and gashed by the unexpected encounter with a sleeping Vomammoth? Too often, it would seem, for the poor creature has been hunted nearly to extinction in recent years.
The story of the mighty King of the North, as the brute is sometimes called, is a sad one, with no happy ending in sight. Having a bullish propensity for lashing out against any creature that disturbs it, and having the unlucky fate of being in the way of modern attempts to mine for mythril ore and coal, it would seem the Vomammoth was always destined to clash with humans. And so it finally has in this age of progress. When left alone on the wild snowy slopes beyond Narshe's northernmost limits, it is a sight to behold, a rare beauty of the northern clime. In olden days before the industrial age made Narshe an economic center, wild Vomammoths could be seen racing across the glaciers in vast herds, their prized blue tusks glinting in the sunlight. I have heard reports of Vomammoth herds stretching as far as the northern plains of the Kohlingen region. With the coming of machines to the north, however, came cold and hungry men. The meat and fur of the Vomammoth was almost as prized as their exotic tusks and claws, and within a few decades the roaming herds were no more. The King of the North had been dethroned.
Forced to retreat into the caves they normally only used for hibernation and mating, they became highly protective of their territory and their brood. The early years of Narshe coal mining saw a huge number of injuries and even deaths caused by pushing these animals literally against the wall, and given them no recourse but to attack, and attack ferociously for their right to exist. The machines would not be stopped however, and soon the Vomammoth was forced ever deeper into the mines, to eke out a subterranean living as best they could. Their numbers have dwindled as the upper mines have been thoroughly cleared of all major threats, but hordes of the beasts still live tucked away in the deeper parts, waiting for an unwary miner and wanting nothing but to be left alone.
Strangely, the Vomammoth is a popular guard beast for the Narshe City Guard, second only the faithful Silver Lobo. Despite its nasty demeanor, if properly cared for and not abused, a Vomammoth raised in captivity makes a very tractable bodyguard, and even a popular sparring partner for the more adventurous, and I would say foolish, guards. The great size and resources demanded by the creature limits how many the city can keep and raise, but as threats of the Empire's encroachment rise, so too do the number of tamed Vomammoths. I am not sure just how useful a flesh and bone beast, no matter how mighty, would be against the devilish machines that are pouring out of the Empire, but even a Magitek Armor rider would have cause to at least hesitate before the lowered head of an angry Vomammoth.
As a scholar of magic, I have noticed one oddity of the beast that I feel I must mention here. The Vomammoth is capable of conjuring a deadly blizzard from thin air if it is unduly threatened. Now, I am aware the outside world does not put any stock in magic, but I assure any foreign readers that may stumble across this account that this blizzard is not some simple trick of cold breath. It is a magical conjuring, no doubt, and taxes the creature to the extreme if it is summoned. I have known tame Vomammoths, which are weaker than their feral counterparts, to actually die of exhaustion after one casting of the spell. Even so, the magical blizzard is as fierce as a real blizzard, if not more localized, and humans caught in the blast risk being frozen to death in minutes or gashed with razor-sharp ice shards. I have even heard reports from some old Narshe mountain climbers of gruesome discoveries where both the Vomammoth and the target of its blizzard have been found dead, together in the snowy fields.
The question I ask from my unique vantage point as a scholar of magic is how exactly this beast came about its rare magical gifts. It is certainly not the only living creature capable of naturally using magical abilities, but it is one of a select few to be sure. The usual method I have found is by absorbing the ambient magical energies of its environment through various means, and then passing that magical mutation onto offspring. As a student of Blue Magic, this is a process I am quite familiar with. I theorize that eating a purely magical creature such as a Vaporite might cause such a transformation in the species, but there may be deeper connections beyond my limited understanding. Modern spell-oriented magic still stems from a very man-made source - the original Magi from a thousand years ago. Unless these creatures, too, have the source of the magical powers in some meddling Magi, I cannot see how such a pronounced magical ability as conjuring a blizzard could possibly have developed naturally simply by the meager magical potential of the humble Vaporite.
The actual channeling of their ice-based magic is focused in the Vomammoth's glowing blue claws and tusks. Autopsies have revealed the claws and tusks are laced with mythril, thus the glowing blue hue. Mythril, besides being highly valued for its hardness and otherworldly beauty, has always been a popular ore for magecraft since bygone days. Even to this day, the mythril claws of these beasts are popular among martial artists for their durability and beauty, with many fighters claiming the claws give them supernatural abilities. How mythril has seeped into the very bodies of living creatures, though, I truly cannot say, but how convenient for magic use! The mythril allows a clean, almost unhindered flow of magical power from the surrounding ambient energies into the creature's body, and then back out in a vicious explosion.
As any reader may see, the Vomammoth may be deadly, but it is full of interesting and valuable resources. Meat that is a delicacy when cooked, tusks and claws made of precious mythril, strength perfect for defending a city, and a thick pelt used for clothing since the dawn of time all combine to spell the doom of this majestic giant of the North. What human could possibly ignore such riches? I fear that within one generation this animal will be extinct, and all the mysteries surrounding it shall fall into oblivion alongside it.
(Like the Leafer, I left this pre-Collapse description I made of the Vomammoth intact for posterity. My prediction turned out all too true, and with the Collapse came the true, final end of the reign of the King of the North. I can't help but think that, if it were not for us humans already pushing the beast to the brink, this mammoth might not have gone the way of the Leafer and so many other, weaker creatures. With its enduring tenacity to survive against any foe and the rare gifts granted to it, it very well might have been able to fend off the nightmares that came after the Collapse. But we shall never know the truth of that hypothesis. The Collapse may have killed off the Vomammoth, but it was we humans who pushed it off its throne and sent it tumbling down its inevitable path to annihilation. My only hope is that somewhere, deeper than the deepest abandoned mine of Narshe, there still roams a Vomammoth or two, wild and free.)