Forsaken: The Edge of Everything
Water falling over the rocks of Robinson Creek
Robinson Creek runs east to west across the Mendocino Valley, its waters washing smooth ancient, broken limestones from a mountain long-ago crushed by an earthquake.
Burbles are the spirits of the water as it crests these jagged rocks, slowly wearing them smooth over time, listening to their slow stories of when they were part of a mountain.
A burble appears as a gleam on the water just as it crests a rock. If you listen to them, they repeat the rocks’ stories back in a breathless, silvery whisper. They have taken it as a mark of honor to memorize these stories, and act as the unofficial scribes of the fallen mountain.
Little Red Gasp
Sparks that cause forest fires
A Little Red Gasp is just a step above the least fire mote, a tiny blazing comet of a spark that rushes toward the driest, most flammable surface it can find in hopes of starting a fire. The vast, vast majority of Little Red Gasps never catch, but for its seconds of life, it will try its hardest.
Little Red Gasps are the spirits of the sparks that start forest fires. They blaze to life, rush toward a flammable surface, and are gone, usually to no avail. Each Little Red Gasp remembers the name of all the Gasps who have caught light, for these become the Blazes of Renewal, the forest fire spirits to which all Gasps aspire.
These little spirits want nothing more than to cause fires, for to do so is to win everlasting glory among their kind. They are vain and short-sighted in pursuit of this goal.
West Wind Hound
Wind that finds its way through the mountains
The winds come sharp and fierce from the cold pacific, wrapping around the cliffs and bounding over the mountains. Their spirits are lusty, aggressive, tenacious, and cold, clear-eyed hounds of swirling wind howling their way through the canyons.
West Wind Hounds are common in Ukiah on windy days, but difficult to see, being made of wind and all. Your best is to look for a pair of flesh-and-blood canine eyes staring out of the vague shape of a great hound’s body, though the hound itself has too many teeth, and its bite is sharp and cold.
West Wind Hounds treat werewolves as a wild dog would, standoffish and territorial. But like any wind, they know very well how to get through the tightest cracks, and have seen much. They can teach werewolves who ask, but prefer they ask in Urshul.
Earth along the San Andreas Faultline
The San Andreas Fault is world-famous, one of the only tectonic faultlines that most people know by name. That mankind would build two great cities right on one of the most ferocious faultlines in the world stands as evidence of human hubris. Californians all take pride in their blasé attitude toward relatively intense earthquakes, and share a running joke that one day, the outraged fault will drop their whole state into the Pacific.
The spirits of the San Andreas Fault do not like being laughed at. These Upraised Spears are all proud, stubborn, and far more short-tempered than other spirits of solid earth. They consider themselves the vanguard of the great tectonic shelf, and expect respect, deference, and fear everywhere they go. Given that Upraised Spears are about as powerful as Lesser Gafflings get, and only the lowest-ranking spirits of the faultline, they tend to get quite a bit of deference indeed.
Upraised Spears mostly remain underground, communicating en masse through deep rumbles of the earth. When they manifest, they punch up as living, faceless stone formations, moving and attacking with upward thrusts of stone spikes.
When travelling in groups, Upraised Spears announce themselves by listing the great earthquakes they have helped cause. If they’re feeling polite, they will not list more than a few millennia back. The Fort Tejon, San Francisco 1906, and Loma Prieta quakes are always named, yet the never the Parkfield quake of 2004.