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A scorched letter was found wedged behind the frame of a shattered mirror in a sealed noble residence. Only the first part remains legible, but it clearly speaks of a formal disownment — a rare and damning act.

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A hastily written, anonymous letter lies on a writing desk beside an ink bottle and pen. Its contents hint at a rare opportunity—and a dangerous secret—known to only a few.

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Found half-buried beneath collapsed crates in an abandoned storage cellar, the charred document still bears the tribunal’s seal. Judging by the soot and singe marks, someone tried—but failed—to destroy the evidence completely.

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The cargo tag was found nailed to a broken crate in a flooded sub-basement beneath the old East Sector tram depot. No containers were inside — only burn marks and traces of crystallized residue.

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A diary entry written by a newly arrived Vireen experiencing human food for the first time. Found tucked between pages of an abandoned notebook near the marketplace.

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Recovered from a district filing cabinet marked “Incidents – Gruda,” this report details the unusual discovery of a dissolved Gruda form near the outer wall. The mention of possible sabotage has raised quiet concerns among local overseers.

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The notice was pinned to the outer door of Varn & Sons Metalworks, likely placed there hastily — the ink at the edges is slightly smudged by rain. Locals say it appeared just after dawn.

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This aged technical report was recovered from a disused engineering archive beneath the city’s southern tram depot. The file was loosely bound among outdated furnace schematics, its contents seemingly overlooked for decades. It documents a rare observation of Gruda reproduction — a process still poorly understood, and, until this note resurfaced, regarded as speculative by most scholars.

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A job offer for a Vireen to assist in long-term care. The work is emotionally demanding, despite short shifts and decent pay. Reflects efforts to integrate Vireen into human institutions.

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A letter written by a merchant’s daughter to her younger brother, recently taken to the Mage Academy. The paper is plain and worn, but the words carry pride, curiosity, and the warmth of a sibling left behind.

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Found discarded near a maintenance hatch in the lower industrial corridors, this document appears to have been crumpled and stepped on—likely swept aside during a shift change. It references a minor but telling incident involving cross-species misunderstanding and remains stained with machine oil.

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Official replacement request issued by a Furnari workshop for three failing Gruda units. Document shows wear from repeated handling and includes idle graphite markings likely made during idle supervision.

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Official memorandum issued by the Department of Migrant Affairs regarding the proper intake procedures for Vireen arrivals. The document outlines critical guidance on literacy, age-based housing, behavioural expectations, wing pigmentation monitoring, and legal protections. A practical attempt to bridge bureaucratic structure with the delicate reality of integrating a race driven by emotion and sensation.

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Recovered from an abandoned satchel near a dried-out stream. Judging by its condition, the letter was written days earlier, possibly intended for someone far away. The name “Lira” appears at the top — no other details.

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A hand-drawn dungeon map left on an old wooden table. No names, no markings — just walls, rooms, and cryptic symbols. Whoever made it knew the layout too well… or didn’t live to finish it.

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Excerpt from a local newspaper, date partially torn. The tone is formal, but tension bleeds through the print. Some say the rationing notice ran alongside a recipe column — irony not lost on hungry readers.

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Memo pinned in the servant corridor behind the main kitchen. Handwritten in precise ink, with the tone of someone who has had to repeat themselves too many times.