Whispers of the Vale

By Anonymous

(for now)

"Meowster, are you ready to go now? Do you have everything you need?"

Slinging a rugged satchel that was provided to you by the Third over your shoulder, you give one last cursory inspection over your gear.
Satisfied, you turn around and kneel down in front of Scuffles, your faithful Palico, giving him a quick ruffle behind the head, much to his delight.

"As ready as I'll ever be. This should be no more than a quick trip in and out..."

Withdrawing your hand, you ponder your own thoughts for a moment before standing up and adding:

"You know the routine. If I'm not back within two hours, return home and get some help. You're in charge of things up here."

"OK Meowster! I'll be waiting for you!"

Smiling at the cute little salute that Scuffles offered to you as he spoke, you wasted no further time in setting out on a trail you had grown accustomed to using.

"Be safe!"

Looking over your shoulder, you give the Palico a thumbs up before disappearing around an outcropping of rock.
You wish your trusty companion could be by your side, but this sort of expedition was one of the few times that required leaving him behind.
The reason of which was all too familiar to you as you paused at an overlook, gazing out at the surrounding landscape in search of any obvious threats.
The Rotten Vale.
You despise this place.

Even from this high point, where the air is at its purest, the abhorrent, unmistakable stench of death and decay assaults your nostrils without mercy.
Wrinkling your nose out of reflex, a heavy sigh escapes your mouth, knowing full well that it only gets worse from here on out.
The scent alone isn't why you choose to leave Scuffles behind to watch over the Mernos that you flew in on. No, it's the deadly Effluvium gas filling the depths below.
It's bad enough for a human to breathe it in, yet it's substantially worse for something as small as a Felyne to do so, even with protective equipment.
While the researchers and craftsmen have devised various masks and head gear that lessen the effects of the toxic substance, they've been far from perfect.

For what you come here to do, you've never found reason to justify jeopardizing your furry friends health by bringing him along to the lower levels of the Vale.
Still, even though you are confident in your abilities, you wish you could be anywhere but this horrid place as you begin your first descent.
After all, it's the third time in just this month that you've been sent out here! It's always you! Why can't it be anyone else's job?
Though as you protest such thoughts in your mind, deep down, you already knew why things turned out this way for you...

Just over three years ago, Astera had been a bustling hive of activity, with several major events all happening in relatively quick succession.
Your arrival in the New World with the rest of the Fifth.
The tracking and eventual routing of Zorah Magdaros.
And the disturbance of several mighty Elder Dragons, caused by Nergigante running amok in the aftermath of your victory over Zorah.
During this time, a Kushala Daora, Teostra, and even Nergigante fell at the hands of the Commission's elite.
However, there was a fourth Elder involved, the deathly dragon that made its home in the deepest recesses of the Vale: Vaal Hazak.
While you personally had no part in any of those hunts, the firsthand accounts from those who did spread like an inferno, and rightfully so.
But that report from those who had been tasked to hunt down Vaal Hazak, told a very different story from the rest.
Something unexpected and inexplicable had occurred.

You even heard it straight from one of the hunters involved, who you had ended up sitting next to one day while enjoying a hot meal and a mug of the Canteen's finest.
He told you how they had located it, yet almost as soon as their struggle began and blows were exchanged, the dragon abruptly fled from them.
The hunter went on to talk about how there was no good explanation for the abnormal behavior.
Vaal Hazak appeared to be full of vigor, terrifying in power and eager to fight.
Regardless of that fact, the Elder Dragon had crept away into deeper, darker, yet unknown depths of the Rotten Vale.
It was deemed too dangerous to try and follow in pursuit, and as such, the hunt for Vaal Hazak was postponed until further notice.

The hunters brief encounter was not without its fruitage, however.
A few scales that were broken loose, a small chunk of wing membrane, and some other miscellaneous bits and pieces.
Meager rewards for the effort, yet it was all priceless to the researchers nonetheless, offering valuable insight on the Elder Dragon.
Days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, all without any new signs of Vaal Hazak's whereabouts.
In the end, the dragon was no longer considered to be a threat, and the hunt was formally abandoned.
The events surrounding it began to wane from the forefront of memory as time progressed.
Especially so once the Hinterlands were discovered, and the subsequent exodus of practically half the Commission that ensued to rush out, establish Seliana, and explore.

Those were exciting days! Though, you personally chose to stay behind in Astera, for two main reasons.
First, nearly all of the finest hunters went to operate out of Seliana. A perfectly understandable decision; that's where they were needed the most.
But their absence meant that there was a real need for the more middle class hunters among those available, such as yourself, to step up and handle more back at home, so to speak
As for the second reason... Well, you hated being cold.

From that point, you were able to settle in to a new comfortable routine, and you still got to vicariously enjoy the discoveries and exploits of the Hinterlands through the reports that would come back.
Time kept its unyielding march, and the months progressed. Unrest began to gnaw at you from deep within; your new routine was too... routine. Monotonous. Dull. Unexciting.
That's why one day, when one of the researchers present in Astera announced that he had a brand new invention, requiring a hunter to go out into the field and test, you leapt at the opportunity.
Little did you know, your eagerness to volunteer at that moment was going to be the worst decision you ever made in the New World.

Come to find out, research and testing on the samples retrieved from Vaal Hazak had reached a dead end relatively quickly.
Not because there wasn't anything left to try, but because those samples were too precious to subject to more destructive testing measures.
It was a very real possibility that the Elder Dragon may never be seen again for years. Decades, even.
A unanimous agreement for what should be done with the pieces could never be met, so they were simply set aside somewhere for safe keeping, where they largely became forgotten.

That is, until one particular researcher got a bright idea that the others could agree on.
There was just barely enough material to craft a face covering of sorts. It securely covered from the bridge of the nose, down to the chin, and most of the cheeks.
It was constructed in such a way that if need be, it could be carefully disassembled with minimal damage done to the original components.
The researcher you volunteered to assist explained that it was an experimental breathing mask, made to filter out the troublesome Effluvium of the Rotten Vale.
Similar to several others that had already been made and were in use, but he hypothesized that one made from the dragon so intimately connected with the Effluvium, may produce better results.

Or at least that's what he hoped for.
The idea sounded good... You never know until you try.
With the mask in your possession, you set out to the Rotten Vale, and with a bit of trepidation entered into the lightest patch of Effluvium that you could find.
The hypothesis turned out to be correct. Not only did it work, but it worked extraordinarily well.
Prior to this discovery, the best solutions that had been dreamed up allowed one to be down in the depths for about an hour at most. By that point, your lungs would be burning up.
But with the new mask? You ended up camping out in some of the thickest Effluvium you could find for nearly four hours, all without even a twinge of discomfort.
It was nearly perfect!
If only it could do something about the omnipresent aroma of rotting flesh and putrid bodies of water...

Unsurprisingly, the researcher was ecstatic with the results, as were many of his other colleagues among the Third as news spread.
Not long after, you fully realized the folly of what you had gotten yourself into.
It was as if the entirety of the Third could smell blood in the water; not blood of a monster, but yours.
You were suddenly inundated with requests of expeditions and investigations, all of which involved the lower levels of the Rotten Vale.
What was once too difficult, too impractical, or too dangerous to pursue because of the Effluvium, was now possible.
The floodgates of research long held back had opened.
Still, you obliged their desires. At first, you were just as excited as everyone else. You felt more valued and useful to the Commission than you ever had before.

You even had a set of armor specially made for your journeys into the Vale, crafted from Gajau hides and other easy to clean, liquid-resistant materials!
That happened after a particularly unfortunate accident, which involved slipping and sliding feet first into the bloated corpse of some monster, filling your normal boots to the brim with a vile brew.
You were unable to feel clean again for weeks afterwards.
As for the boots, there was no hope for them. You ended up chucking them into the ocean.
They're the fishes problem now.

Observe the behavior of a pack of Girros.
Fetch a water sample.
Harvest the mushrooms.
Catch some Effluvium-resistant bugs for the entomologist.
Fetch another water sample.
Ad nauseam.
With one thing after another, what was once exciting for you had become tedium. A routine far worse than the one you originally wanted to escape.

Months flew by, and among your peers of the Fifth, you wound up with more hours of experience in the Rotten Vale than anyone else, which only served to further solidify your role.
For what it was worth, as far as anyone was concerned, the Vaal Hazak mask belonged to you now to keep, no matter how valuable to the Third it was.
As if that was supposed to make you feel better.
Despite all of that, you doggedly trudged through everything they threw at you.

You had to, because this is what you signed up for. You didn't come to the New World with the expectation that you could pick and choose whatever you felt like doing.
The researchers depended on you. The Commission depended on you. Your hours of specialized experience meant you could get the job done faster, safer and more reliably than anyone else.
You couldn't bring yourself to let them down, or worse yet, put someone else's life on the line in your place, someone who didn't know the dangers and how to avoid them like you did.
That sense of duty and pride kept you going.

While all of these factors; the decaying bodies of monsters, the smell, the danger and the workload all wore down your spirit, none of those things were the worst part about the Vale.
No, the worst had yet to come.
Recently, about four or so months ago, you started to... hear things.

Every once in awhile during your expeditions in the Vale, what could only be described as a faint, distant call of a monster could be heard.
A call that you did not recognize.
That in of itself wouldn't be too alarming, but it was the nature of how you heard these calls that was worrisome.
Whenever you heard them, they sounded like they should be far off in the distance, but you could swear that it was as if the sound was coming from within your mind.
Distant, yet impossibly close.

Gradually, the phenomenon began increasing in frequency, and the monster's call sounded like it was drawing closer, growing slightly louder.
There were two things that you were able to discern regarding it, though.
The Effluvium, and your mask.
You only ever heard it while within the toxic clouds, and seemingly while wearing the mask.
Once, as soon as you started to hear the mysterious sound, you took in a deep breath and briefly removed the mask.
Almost immediately, the sound faded away within your mind, only to return once the mask was back in place.
You felt like you were starting to go crazy.

Back in Astera, you brought this development and your concerns to several different people. They were just as confused as you were.
You even brought a couple researchers and a fellow hunter out to the Rotten Vale, just to have them each wear the mask in order to experience it for themselves.
Much to your dismay, none of them could hear anything out of the ordinary.
In an effort to help, you were provided with some sort of herbal tea; an old Wyverian remedy said to help ease a troubled mind and calm the heart.
While drinking it would indeed make you feel better for a time, the sounds persisted regardless.
In the end, all the researchers could recommend to you is if things started to get worse, you should let somebody know and cease your operations in the Vale immediately.

You didn't want things to come to that point, but you had your limits.
Nothing you could do, no matter how useful or beneficial to the Commission, was worth literally going insane for.
Nobody here would wish that upon anyone. Everyone looked out for each other, a fact you knew well.
They would understand.
...
It was for all these reasons combined, that you found yourself hesitating before advancing onward in today's expedition.
You've gone as far as you can go without needing to put the mask on.

Peering over a ledge into a cavernous, Effluvium-filled space littered with the bodies of monsters in various stages of decomposition, you begin to mentally prepare yourself.
Everything will be fine.
From this point forward, all you have to do is descend a little further, arrive at one of the many acid pools in the area, fill up a few jars, and you'll be on your way.
You'll be back to this point that you're resting at now in no more than ten or so minutes.
Though, there is one abnormality present today that lingers in your thoughts: An unusual lack of monsters.

From the outset of this expedition, you've seen hardly any of them, as if they were in hiding, or had moved out of the area due to the presence of a large predator, such as an Odogaron.
Even if there was an Odogaron prowling around, there's still normally more monsters roaming about than what you're seeing here today.
You almost certainly would have heard or seen it by now, too.
This situation has you a bit on edge, but there's nothing that can be done about it.
Besides, perhaps this is a blessing in disguise? The absence of potential threats can only serve to make your life easier.

Not wanting to waste any more time than necessary, you finally motivate yourself to get moving.
Taking your special mask, you place it over your face, firmly securing it with a strap that goes around the back of your head.
Next, you pull a pair of goggles over your eyes, designed to seal firmly against your skin and prevent your eyes from becoming irritated by the gas.
Finally, with everything in place, you drop down from the ledge, ready to descend into the Effluvium below.

As soon as the toxic gas envelops you, you briefly pause to take in a few experimental breaths, checking to make sure that everything is fitted correctly.
Once satisfied, you pressed on, walking at a steady pace towards your destination.
Navigating your way through the filth strewn across the ground, you keep your eyes and ears vigilant, keeping watch for anything th-

HHHhhhhhhhhh...

There it is.
Doing your best to ignore the all too familiar sound coming and going from inside your head, you do note that it still hasn't seemed to have changed. Maybe it's slightly louder today, if even that.
While the event instantly sours your mood to a degree, you try not to let it affect you too much, lest it causes you to lose your concentration at a bad time.
Rounding a corner into a deeper section of the Vale's caverns, a small sense of relief washes over you, knowing that your destination is just up ahead.
In just a few minutes, you'll be on your w-

Little... one...?

You nearly trip over yourself as you come to an abrupt halt. With a fresh shot of adrenaline coursing through your veins, your head swivels from side to side, looking around in a panic.
What was that?! It was almost as if...

Little one? Where are you?

There's no mistaking it.
What was once a distant sound of some sort of monster, was now a voice, loud and clear within depths of your mind.
The voice absolutely terrified you. Not just because of the simple fact that you were hearing it, nor that you could understand it, but for the way it sounds.
This was unlike anything you had ever heard before. This wasn't the voice of a human, wyverian, felyne or anything else of the sort.
It was as if a monster was replicating your language, using all of the growls, roars, rumbles, clicks, chirps, trills, screeches and every other sort of sound common to them.
As if those sounds somehow transformed into words. It was primal and rough.
Unnatural.
Uncanny.

At that very moment, you made the decision to never come back to this forsaken place ever again. You're actually, undoubtedly going insane from being here.
Now you were in a quandary. On one hand, you wanted nothing more than to turn around and leave immediately. But on the other, you were practically at the acid pool.
After a moments consideration, you decided to at least finish the job while you're here.
Finishing it for the last time... The thought of never having to come here again now filled you with a sense of relief, driving you on.
You can put up with this for just a little while longer.
Picking up the pace, you jog the final distance, determined to fulfill what would likely be your last expedition into the Rotten Vale.

Stepping into a space that widened out considerably, you quickly made your way over to the acid pool that you had in mind.
Kneeling at its edge, you removed your satchel and set it in front of you, where you proceeded to unhook the buckles securing the opening flap.

Speak, little one... I can feel your presence near me. There is no reason to be afraid.

Flipping up the flap on the satchel reveals three finely crafted glass bottles, complete with glass stoppers coated with some sort of acid-resistant substance to help seal them.
Additionally, there was a pair of wooden tongs, intended to be used to grip and submerge the bottles into the hazardous substance, without risking your hands.
All of which was surrounded by dense, dried moss packed all around, providing cushioning for the fragile bottles.

Come now; come and take refuge under my wings. I will protect you.

Furrowing your brow, you take a moment to look over your shoulder and check your surroundings, trying to do your best at ignoring the bestial voice pervading your mind.
Still seeing nothing out of the ordinary, you remove the bottles and the tongs, carefully setting them out on the ground.
After removing the stoppers from the three bottles, you then get to work. Grabbing hold of the first bottle with the tongs, you carefully submerge it in the acid, quickly filling it up.
Withdrawing it from the pool, you then pour off a little of the dangerous liquid, just enough to create some headspace for the stopper.
Gently setting the freshly filled bottle back on the ground, the glass stopper is firmly pressed in on top, securing the contents inside.

I will teach you our ways, the meaning of our existence...

You repeated the process with the second bottle.

...how to embrace the death surrounding us, to become a part of it...

At last, the third.

...and to rejoice in the life anew that springs forth.

The moment the third bottle was securely capped off, you wasted no time rising to your feet, momentarily leaving your harvest behind to fetch something that you know grew nearby.
Arriving at a section of the cavern walls where water seeped through, what you were looking for was there waiting for you: Watermoss.
Grabbing a handful of the saturated moss, you retraced your steps, walking back towards the bottles.
Once there, you use the Watermoss to carefully wipe down the tongs, and the exterior of each bottle, ensuring that as much acidic residue as possible that may be clinging to the outside, is removed.
With the collection process finally complete, the tongs and bottles are promptly returned to their secure holding locations in the satchel.
Flipping the top flap back over, your hands set to work on the buckles to lock everything in place.

Why do you not respond, little one? Are you weak? Sick? Injured? ...Remain where you are; I will find you, and all will be well.

That last message gives you pause, prompting you to look over your shoulder once more.
Stay here? For something to find you?
The very thought is troubling. Paranoia begins to take hold within you, raising your anxiety further.
Standing up, after returning the satchel to its place over your shoulder, you simply stand still, listening carefully as you keep a watchful eye on your surroundings.
A few minutes pass, and you hear nothing out of the ordinary. Although...
Maybe it's just your imagination, but the Effluvium in this area appears to have... thickened slightly? Did the wind currents suddenly change?

Whatever the reason for it may be, it doesn't really matter. You've spent long enough down here in the depths of the Vale, it's time to leave.
As you began to walk away from the acid pools, towards your ascent to eventual fresh air and freedom, your mind began to wander.
What will you do once you get back to Astera? What sounds good for dinner? Should you even bother trying to explain your worsening condition today, or wait until tomorrow after a good night's rest?
Such mundane thoughts ceased immediately when a brief roar sounded out from behind, causing you to flinch.
Moments later, the voice returned once more, significantly louder and conveying a mixture of shock and anger in tone, practically hammering your mind from within.

A Hunter?!

Grimacing in discomfort, you spun around on the spot to face the source of the roar... But nothing could prepare you for what you now saw.
There, standing in place on the opposite end of this cavernous room, exposing just the front half of its body from around a bend, was an unmistakable form that left no doubt as to its identity.
No more than fifty paces away, stood the elusive dragon, Vaal Hazak, adorned with flesh and wreathed in Effluvium in all its grotesque glory.
How quickly things went from routine and simple, to being in way over your head, you think to yourself.

Instinctively you draw your weapon, gripping it tightly, never taking your eyes off the dragon while slowly backing away, moving towards a point where you can try to make a run for it.
Vaal Hazak, in turn, produces a low rumble from deep within as it advances towards you with slow, steady steps, revealing its entire form.
Just as how you were focused on the dragon, it was plainly obvious how it was just as focused on you, with its head always pointing straight towards you as it moved about, adding to the intimidation.
In its wake, concentrated Effluvium seemingly flowed from its body, spreading out across the ground like waves in the ocean.
And then, after having advanced approximately fifteen paces towards you, the dragon came to a halt.

At ease, Hunter... I have no desire to bear our fangs at each other. I desire answers, not bloodshed.

You stop dead in your tracks.
All of the sudden, your mind starts assembling all the pieces of the puzzle; everything that has been happening to you up until now.
The picture that presents itself in your mind's eye, fills every inch of your body with a new kind of fear, nearly to the point of trembling.
The sounds which have been plaguing you, and now this voice... Could it be? Could it really be this Elder Dragon, somehow communicating with you directly into your mind?!
It's unfathomable, it's impossible! Nothing of the sort occurring has ever been recorded, nor even spoken of in rumor! You can't possibly accept such an absurd answer, and yet...
What other answer could there possibly be?
Now with a theory to put to the test, you slowly sheath your weapon, paying careful attention to how the dragon reacts, heart pounding in your chest as you do so.

After several seconds, sure enough, the voice returns to your mind, responding to your action.

Good... Now, let us resolve this matter between us. Come, draw close to me.

Your eyes widened at the sight before you, the truth now undeniable. The dragon was moving one of its wings in a universally recognizable way.
Vaal Hazak was beckoning you to approach.
Yet, you didn't move a muscle.
You couldn't.
In the span of mere minutes, reality itself had become shattered. It was as if everything you thought you understood about the world you lived in was thrown into the fire; incinerated.
Elder Dragons were well known to more intelligent than the average monster, but this? This was something beyond your comprehension.
You had your fair share of close calls as a rookie, back in the Old World... But you had never known such a deep, profound fear like what you were experiencing right now.

A frustrated growl and a single step towards you was all it took to push you over the brink, sending your Fight-or-Flight response firmly into Flight.
Turning your back to the dragon, you bolted, adrenaline fueling your body to sprint away as fast as you possibly can.
Looking behind revealed Vaal Hazak to be bounding after you in pursuit. You knew that you had only seconds before it would catch you.
Without hardly thinking, you thrust your hand into a pouch, pulled out a Flash Pod, loaded it into your slinger, and fired behind you, hoping for the best.
The surrounding walls of the cavern lit up brightly as the pod went off, followed by the sound of the heavy footfalls of the dragon suddenly becoming erratic, as if stumbling to a stop.
You didn't look back to check.

You were practically flying as you ran up the gradual ascent towards higher ground; at least until a deafening roar filled the area.
The next thing you knew, an enormous blast of Effluvium blew around you, forcing you to stop, as you could no longer see where you were running.

HUNTER!! What is the meaning of this!? I DEMAND that you answer for your trickery!

You weren't ready for the voice to return in the way that it did.
Doubling over, you clutched your head with both hands, covering your ears in a desperate attempt to lessen the sound, but the effort was in vain.
It was as if you had stuck your head in the maw of the dragon, right as it let loose its roar from only moments ago.
Unbelievably loud, and the inflection upon the primal, uncanny voice left no room to doubt that Vaal Hazak was absolutely furious now.
The experience made you feel dizzy, nauseous, and your muscles weak. Your human mind was struggling to cope with the foreign sensations assaulting it.

When the Effluvium cleared enough for you to see again, you forced yourself back into an upright posture, and continued your desperate escape.
Instead of retracing your steps, you diverted into a cramped, narrow path that the dragon couldn't possibly follow you through.
It would still lead you to the surface all the same.

Take heed, Hunter, and listen to me well...

Almost there... So close!

If I ever sense you within my territory again, YOU will become the hunted, and I shall FORCE you to divulge your secrets and explain yourself.

At the first possible moment, as you clambered up and out of the Effluvium, you practically tore the mask off from your face, severing the connection between you and Vaal Hazak.
Though, not before one last message faded out from your consciousness...

You have been warned.