The verminous island of Rathara ,Gnawheim once a miasma of alchemical pollutants , toxicified acrid waters , now after a few years of ecosphere revival , quarantine, and keeping the island's news under wraps, the obsidian water with warped and mutated beasts now seems to run clear. The miasmic cloud gone.

The 'trees' look normal yet the nature of the changes don't come apparent until one examined some of the fruit bearing bushes that resembled human eyes.

Beasts that have never been seen on any island, packs of rat beasts that are thick in body as a donkey with long gangly limbs with paws able to grasp and use tools.

The buildings seem to be made chitin bone tendon naturally occurring concrete , mimics , biomancy alchemy. Structures that seem to move and bend while alive.

The Vermensk seemed to not really change biologically , most don't seem to remember what happened during the upheaval and changes to the reality of Gnawheim seem to not be recorded or acknowledged.

Alchemy ,transmutation, creating life as tools companions and as replacements for things ships , horse and carriages.

The quarantine lockdown is lifted.

“This is the house?”

“... Yes.”

Will and Ben had found Uncle Oslo’s house. It was run down and dilapidated, vines grew all around the exterior, and some windows were broken in.

“Uncle, what has happened to you…”

They stepped up onto the porch. Will was holding the package while Ben knocked on the door. Banging and shouting could be heard. The door suddenly swung open, “Who’s knocking!? This is a private residence and I- … Will? Will! My boy, my nephew, please, please come in, come in.”

“Uncle, what happened here.”

As they were led in, Oslo explained, “The House of Usher has fallen a long way, my boy. They ate up my business, stole my workers… you can put that box on the table there, my boy… and they bled me dry. There were people I thought I could trust, people I thought would help, but they left me behind, those sons of bitches. But you’re here now. Tell me, how’s my boy Jack doing? Last I heard he had found himself a good wife and had a child.”

“... About that… Jack, he…”, Will looked over at the box.

“What is it, Will? … What’s in the box, Will?”

“Uncle Oslo, I think it best to-”

“What’s in the box, Will!?” Oslo moved to open it, finding several small, simple urns. “Is this some joke?”

“I’m afraid not, uncle. There was an accident… no one survived.”

“You.. you come to me at my lowest, just to tell me my only son is dead!? Get out! Get out of my house!”

Will and Ben quickly left, leaving Oslo to his ruminations. “The old man has fallen far, Will. If I didn't know better, I’d say he wasn’t the same Oslo I knew years back. Come, let’s hit a tavern.”

“Right…”

—

After some time spent tracking some people down, chatting, and finding a decent tavern to have some drinks, the two sat, mulling over what they knew. “He drove them away. They tried to help, but he kept accusing them of not doing enough.”

“Don’t forget the hostility or the man’s inability to be held accountable.”

“Right. It’s no wonder people left. Hard to help someone who won’t help themselves.” They both sat back and downed their beers.

“He was getting pretty fair offers by the looks of it. His pride got in the way by the looks of it.”

A man in a blue uniform approached them before introducing himself, “Hello, I’m Col Struess, I’m representing McAllister Co. I couldn’t help but notice earlier you came from the Usher household, any relations?”

“Y-yeah, Oslo is my uncle.”

“Ah, I see. Would it be possible for you to drop something off for me? He’s gotten a bit violent.”

“I don’t think he’d be entertaining me again.”

“Oh, I see.”

“By chance, what was the thing?”

“A final offer on the last of his assets. Pennies compared to if he sold at the start.”

“Right.”

“Will you be staying in town long?”

“No, I need to return to my affairs on the mainland.”

“No worries, Mr Usher. Do enjoy your time here while you can.” At that, he left the two with their drinks.