I just saw someone on the trade channel offer a pig stick for sale. Why? Just go out to the big wide Ur and get one.
And then I had a vision.
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You can call me Rose. Sororia Rose. I'm a Seer of Ur. It says so on my door...no, who am I kidding? Doors aren't customizable! Just take my word for it. Trust me, I'm--what are you doing peering into my bubble trophy? That's not a crystal ball. Ugh!
You see, ever since the Contamination, when the Glitchen locked themselves away into their own imagination for safety, we've been unable to venture into Ur. Which is fine, really; we have everything we need here; crops, herbs, animals, trees. Except for a few things that we can't make ourselves; a few precious things that are now going for more than Funpickles. Animal sticks--light bulbs--olive oil. Oats. Syrup. I can never have Gamma's pancakes again, because I'm all out. I've got a handful of oats left, though. And there's always pumpkin pie? No, we need honey for that. The Giants have gone who-knows-where and left us shockingly ill-equipped to exist on our own, out of Ur.
No vendors. I remember catching a glimpse of Ix the other day. Uncle Friendly was still boarded up in his shop.
It's all the Rook's fault. But that's a really long story. I'm not to tell it. Even though I know it. Don't ask why!
We Seers are needed. We are hope personified. Nobody can go back to the world until it's safe. Little patches of clean have already begun showing up in places. There's a rock you can stand on in Rasana. A spice tree that's not completely dangerous (it just reduces your energy by half if you should touch it). But not enough. You know if you touch the filth that's contaminated Ur, you'll die.
Another thing: There aren't any grapes in Hell anymore. At least that's one of the rumors. We haven't seen anyone from Hell come back yet. That's why I stay here, in my imagination house, nibbling my piggies and feeding them the crops I grow, and sometimes when the imaginary sun sets I look into my crystal ball (not the trophy you see here!) and peer out into Ur.
(No. It's still glowing black. Shiny black. Rook-feather-color.)
I See you, too. You're from the past. Reading this. Aren't you? And you know what's going to happen and you're going to try to prevent it!
NO! Just don't. Don't try. You can't stop this. Don't even think about it unless you want to be ripped to nonexistence by the Rook.
You can still live here. You'll be fine, trust me, unless you venture out there, which you shouldn't. Don't do it! Enjoy Ur while you can, but know what's coming. Prepare for it. Stock up on honey and oats. Lightbulbs and olive oil. Birch syrup and butterfly sticks.