What the Tarn Gives Up

Since the gate opened, things climb out of the mere at dusk — bloated, pale, finned where hands ought to be. Glimmermere Waders, the old rubbings name them. They drag anything living back down with them. Cull ten before they thin my watch to nothing.

Experience

3400

Currency reward

16s 0c

Repeatable

No

Sigil

Star and rift