The Outlander's Journal

This is a work of inspiration based upon the gameplay and lore released so far. Included are a weapons list, bestiary, and relics that I have discovered. This is not 100% canon, so just roll with it, enjoy the writing (hopefully), and when more juicy info becomes available, it will be incorporated as faithfully as possible. Shout out to KillPixel and 3D Realms for making this gem.

If you enjoy the material, be sure to check out my Youtube channel for more bestiaries and deep dives into infamous creatures!

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCk-oFwElnH__m9ETIZEWSNg

Arrival

The Shepherd was right, it seems.

Being lost for so long upon the Ageless Sea, I'd forgotten the feel of the earth beneath my feet, the smell of rotted wood and carrion. Damnation proves itself to be a cruel, ironic architect; how long had I yearned to taste freedom of open land once again? How many times had my fragile mind broken in those timeless waters, where all dreams sink to the black and crushing depths of the void? Yet, as I stepped off of my ship and into the dead knolls of Mourningvale, I had only the urge to depart, to return to my endless voyage amidst the Ageless Sea. But, no...

A higher purpose guides me forward.

My blade has awoken in this dark place. It thirsts for the blood of the fallen, the heretics, for the very guardians that hold up this world of Old. It shall be sated.

The Shepherd will see the wayward souls returned to it in a manner I deem fit.

Before this day is done, the task of sorting through the dead will be a most unpleasant and prolonged endeavor.

Mourningvale (The Hub)

As I stepped deeper into the gloom, the first thing I noticed was the utter lack of life. Skeleton trees dotted the landscape, drinking deeply from rivers of fetid filth, yet there were no songs in the air. The birds and fish, the deer, even the creeping insects have all vanished from this place. It is as if the dead are all that can languish here.

I soon came upon a curious graveyard of alabaster. Rusted gates erupted from the earth like serrated teeth, heralding the aura of decay within their iron embrace.

The call of the monuments was strongly felt, yet something else beckoned to me from deeper inside. Not more than a stone's throw past the desolate graveyard, towering trees bereft of leaves stood as grim wards to a stagnant swamp.

My quest was thus reduced to a simple choice: a festering Mire, or the forsaken Undercrofts of a cursed mausoleum.

Fate, I have learned, oft delights in sadistic displays of suffering.

Bestiary

What worth is a hunter who does not catalogue his quarry? I have been too long at sea to not savor the sweet pleasures of the kill; I'm certain it is why the Shepherd chose me. I have long grown numb to the cries of the dying as I water the earth with blood, but the monstrosities in this wretched place are curious.
I will have to study what little I can salvage from their ruined corpses.


Fallen


I enjoy naming my foes with satirical sobriquets. I enjoy rending frail limbs from ragged bodies far more. These shambling corpses are little more than diversions, but in large numbers, they can overwhelm a slow or stupid warrior. They are weak and undeserving of a bullet, so instead, I let the steel tongue of my ruination blade lap up what precious fluids their desiccated bodies contain.


Wraith


The haunting cries of these phantasmal beasts bring forth faint memories of old taverns and joyous choirs, but there is no joy where these foul wraiths wander. Resembling a dead man severed at the waist, the wraith floats about aimlessly until prey is detected. It fires painful orbs of raw energy that appear to drain not only my lifeforce, but any semblance of happiness or pleasure that lingers in the depths of my memories.


Invader


I have named these irritating ghouls Invaders, as they resemble the dreaded pirates of lore from my homeland. Their flesh is a twisted amalgamation of steel, bone, and cursed totems. Their right arm is fitted with a powerful shotgun that can shear an unarmored opponent in two. As if to reiterate their apparent disdain for long-range combat, they carry long, dulled swords that are seemingly designed to inflict as much pain as possible. Familiar, is it not? I cannot help but think that whomever designed these beasts is trying, rather poorly, to mock me.


Afflicted


I have witnessed great plagues that render flesh down to the bone, but these "afflicted" are a special sort. Their bodies fester with bulbous pustules that carry acidic pus, making the use of a blade a lethal tactic. Their empty eyes do not flinch, yet the manner in which these foul creatures walk tells me of their suffering. To my surprise, they are adept at long-range combat. They rip chunks of their blistered flesh from their own bodies and hurl them at their foes, resulting in a shower of acid.


Wretch

Curious beasts, yet I cannot help but feel a modicum of pity towards their apparent suffering. Their rancid bodies jerk and spasm with pain at the twisted metal that is laced with their flesh. The cathartic manner in which they scream as they die illustrates to me their relief at finally shedding their corporeal shell. I wonder if these wretches are merely the playthings of the greater evil that festers beneath Mourningvale. Nevertheless, they pose considerable risk to me. Their ranged capabilities are nigh unmatched; they fire bursts of super-heated energy at a high rate, and upon death, they will often detonate their own bodies, shredding anything too close.



Widow


There are legends from my homeland that speak of women whose husbands were killed in battle. In their grief, they cursed their husband's name for what they see as a capricious sacrifice. The gods, in their rage, unleashed their vengeance against these poor wretches, twisting their bodies into unrecognizable aberrations. I used to laugh at such stories, thinking them mere tales to terrify children. These haunting beasts move as swiftly as the wind as they close upon their victim, yet none will find comfort in their embrace. Their razor claws will strip an able-bodied man to ribbons in a matter of moments.


Heretic


The ways in which the gods torment those who displease them are myriad; my exile to the Ageless Sea is, I freely admit, one of the tamer designs. It is said that those who turn from our divine creators and blaspheme their names are cursed to grow multiple heads with tongues that spin lies which contradict and detract the host. Could these floating monstrosities be rooted in those legends? I suppose it does not matter. They will fall before me just the same. Their leathery skin is quite durable; I have found the blast of a shotgun to be the best absolution for these heretics.


Executioner


Justice often seems a meaningless endeavor. Mankind will always be tormented by its own desires, and to discern where the hearts of men lie requires superlative clarity. Not even the gods seem to understand what it means to be just, as one who witnesses these "executioners" in action will quickly come to understand. A hulking mass of flesh and steel, the executioner charges forth to pummel its foe into submission. Once it has incapacitated its victim, the executioner then fulfills its namesake, decapitating the poor fool in as slow and painful a manner as can be conceived.

Bestiary pt.2

Stricken


The most hideous of all the demons I have encountered in this place, the Stricken are a plague-ridden abomination. Words scarcely suffice to describe their appearance. These gargantuan beings dominate the battlefield with oppressive volleys of bile. Despite their size, they are disturbingly swift, covering large distances without sacrificing their ranged proficiency. Woe to the fellow who draws too near to these things. Their stench alone will suffocate all but the hardiest. Pray that your heart stops beating before its jagged teeth tear into your flesh.


Oppressor


Not all of my foes are composed of bone and flesh. Not entirely, at least. Deep within the crypts and tombs of this forsaken world, the Oppressors wander with iron limbs and molten hearts. Do not let the seemingly sophisticated design fool you, however. They are mindless, aberrant things that are unyielding in their onslaught. Their armor is tough to crack, but a salvo from the slag cannon will make short work of them.


Lurker


From the abyssal depths, the Lurker waits, its bulbous eyes seemingly able to pierce both water and rock in its search for victims. It is not until hapless prey tumbles into the loch that it lets loose its bone-chilling shriek. Once pulled under the surface by the Lurker, naught will remain but a red tide, and the thrashing of water will fade until only the Lurker's satisfied mewling bubbles up from the murky pool.

Prowler


From the twisted planes between dimensions, the ravenous Prowler lurks. Even without the powers of my mask, my senses are keener than most, but the camouflage of this wretched animal is something entirely unnatural. Upon sensing prey, the Prowler will fade into oblivion before the poor fool likely has a chance to even hear it. Only by listening for its skittering footsteps will one hope to counter this phantasmal beast, and avoid a painful death.

Keeper


Little is known of this reclusive entity; it lurks deep within the bowels of this cursed place, surrounding itself with witless peons who enact its foul machinations. Resembling both brain and spider, none would question that the Keeper possesses some semblance of authority among the masses in this place. When engaged in open conflict, it generates a massive field that protects both itself and its guardians. The forcefield, it seems, is not limitless in its power. Sustained damage will exhaust the creature, and it is at this time that the competent warrior should make their move.

Bestiary pt.3

Brute


The vicious Brute, an amalgamation of flesh, bone, and steel. Few creatures are as capable of as much devastation as this horror. With talons of metal and a veritable cannon on its back, the Brute charges into the fray, blind and stricken with pain. It cares not for its own well-being, as evidenced by its capricious bombardment of all that dares enter its domain. One would be forgiven to think that this wretched beast longs to be slaughtered, if only to end its tormented existence.

Symbol


Weavers of the dimensional strands, Symbols serve as humbling reminders that our plane of reality is but one of countless. Harbingers of blood and torment, Symbols manifest only in places and times of great despair. Their tendrils evoke foul magicks that even the boldest sorcerers of the last age would not dare contend with. They are quick and cunning, and if not dealt with quickly, will shower the battlefield with orbs of shadow energy that will lay waste to all.

Arsenal

I have several tools at my disposal to facilitate my lethal trade. Regrettably, there are few creatures in this place that can reasonably be eviscerated with a blade, else I would skin them all. Below are some of the weapons I have collected thus far.


Ruination Blade


Bestowed to me by the Shepherd long before my exile, the Ruination Blade is an instrument of death like no other. The runes that are etched into the unknown metallic alloy are beyond even my understanding, but I can sense their power every time the weapon manifests. In tune with the primordial energies that ebb within all things, the Ruination Blade only appears when it senses danger. In a word, It is alive, and therefore, does not deign to linger without purpose. As blood is spilt upon its surface, I have noticed that the metal will slowly absorb it, until the edge and ricasso are pristine once again. It is a weapon that thirsts for the blood of its enemies.


Revolver


A deceptively powerful firearm. The Revolver could arguably be classified as a pocket shotgun, boasting a three-cylinder capacity that fires 20-gauge slugs. As the revolver is designed as a pistol, considerable strength is required to fire accurately. While the revolver is not a favored instrument of big-game hunters, it will decimate smaller, weaker foes. However, the revolver possesses a deadly secret. If the holder depresses a custom button on the frame whilst squeezing the trigger, all three slugs will fire, shredding the unfortunate target to flesh and bone.


Shotgun


Upon first glance, I thought this to be nothing more than a double-aught shotgun. However, this instrument is anything but conventional. While it is true that this firearm will tear a full-grown man in half from two meters away, it is important to note the bloodied runes that are etched into the weapon's frame. When this specimen's trigger guard is pulled to the rear, the runes glow red. After a few moments, the weapon discharges what appears to be dark energy that pulses with trembling fireflies. When this object strikes its target, however, chaos is unleashed as the contents of the shell are detonated upon impact, threshing everything unfortunate enough to be near.


Fang Spitter


The most curious, and perplexing, weapon I have ever had the pleasure of using. Even after slaughtering scores of beasts and demons with it, I still haven't the faintest notion of how this device operates. Perhaps I am simply not meant to understand, and if that is the case, I am not the least bit offended. Humans do not need to understand how a weapon works in order to use it, and neither do I. I am sure there is some deeper symbolism behind the existence of this device, but at the moment, I do not care to explore it. All I care to dwell upon is the amusing irony that if my blade is to feast upon my foes, why not do it a kindness and let this machine chew them up for easier digestion.


Retcher


The Fang Spitter is not the only weapon that can utilize the remains of fallen enemies as ammunition. This obscene creation can harness the devastating acid of the Stricken and the Afflicted, and then use it to launch cells of concentrated death upon the battlefield. Flesh is dissolved into a slurry of stinking pus, while even the living dead cry out at the horror that this weapon brings. I have not yet seen the armor that can resist the unholy fluids of the Retcher.

Slag Cannon


Whosoever proclaimed that war brings only suffering never squeezed the trigger of the Slag Cannon. A hulking amalgamation of steel and fire, this devastating weapon consumes all that dare to fall beneath its crosshairs. The canisters of super-heated plasma that fuel the Slag Cannon are so hot, they are nearly weapons all their own. Although they are uncommonly found, one can replenish their supply of plasma canisters by hunting Oppressors, as they use smaller variants of the Slag Cannon themselves.

Lance


A powerful weapon for the distant prey. The Lance is among my personal favorites, boasting a slow rate of fire that more than compensates with its devastating lethality. The supernatural feeding mechanism absorbs super-heated plasma, which is then converted into a slug that penetrates flesh and bone like paper. For a more defensive-minded person, a shield of plasma can be generated that repels nearly all projectiles.

Crystallizer


A cruel weapon that brings a smile to my face with each pull of the trigger. By loading this ingenious weapon with the unnatural crystals of this realm, it converts them into pure energy that liquefies flesh and bone. Yet, its awesome power is also true to its namesake. By inverting the beam, enemies can be 'crystallized', frozen into prismatic statues that not only serve as grim markers of my passing, but can also attenuate the primary beam for mass slaughter.

Devastation Mace


Even in the dark corners of the world, the art of Soul Thaumaturgy is considered blasphemous and dangerous. Yet, I do not shy from such crafts. If it facilitates the dealing of death, so be it. This mace, older than mankind and crafted by otherworldly hands, is an instrument of unnatural suffering. When used to crush foes, the twisted metal drinks deeply of their souls, impregnating itself on the essence of their suffering. When enough souls have been harvested, the mace then unleashes the attuned torment upon all before it, reducing everything to blood and memories.

Relics

As any practitioner of magic worth their salt will know, a spell or relic is nothing without sacrifice. Most magicians and simple sorcerers need nothing more than the vermin that crawl in the gutter, but for the truly powerful, blood becomes a precious commodity. On the shores of this infernal place, I have encountered artifacts that dwell upon the fringes of known blood magic. The powers they bestow are great, yet so is their need for vital essence, whether it be that of my enemies, or my own.

Below are some of my notes on what I have found thus far:


Soul Tether


I will leave the philosophical arguments on the nature of souls to the intellectuals that sit in their dusty libraries. The first, and certainly most powerful relic I discovered on my journey was the Soul Tether, an incorporeal skull that, as one touches it, floods the senses with an indescribable hopelessness. Yet, it is not touch that reveals the power of the Soul Tether, but sight. By peering into the sockets of the skull, the holder can root a fragment of their eternal being into a single point in time and space. Should the holder die after performing such a sacrifice, they will return to the same place and time where the ritual was performed.


Life Siphon


The Life Siphon is the most easily understood relic that I have encountered. Where some objects rely on esoteric rituals that can often take a great deal of time to produce demonstrable results, the Life Siphon is direct to its purpose. Upon activation, the Life Siphon harvests the life force of any enemy that is slain for as long as it is persists. Regrettably, its duration is short-lived.
Fortunately, I work quickly.


Cruel Aegis


An otherworldly object that resembles an iron shield, the Cruel Aegis grants the user immeasurable strength for a short time. True to its name, the Aegis exacts a cruel price upon all desperate enough to invoke its gifts. Yet, an offering of blood may seem rather fair when one is faced with a horde of unstoppable denizens of the gloom.


Drowner's Apparatus


An exceptionally useful tool for any daring explorer, yet sadly, not nearly as exciting as some of the other relics. In fact, I hesitate to even name it as such. It provides breathable air for a short length of time. I'm afraid there's not much more to it than that. Back to killing things, I suppose.


Confounding Attar


This delightful flask of oil is deceptively depraved; had I such a potent weapon before my exile, things might have been far different. Hot to the touch, the Confounding Attar poses a chance to thin the battlefield for its user. Once thrown, the flask will smash, spilling its fragrant contents across a large area. Any foes that are caught in the cloud of fumes will instantly become disoriented. No longer able to distinguish friend from enemy, the hapless victim will attack the nearest living creature. Used against a more deadly creature, such as an Executioner, this relic is devastating.

Sigil of Flight


I do not know the joys of childhood among humans; It appears trivial, absent purpose. Yet, from my scant encounters with children, I have witnessed them spreading their arms and running, as if the strength of their hopes would grant them flight. Deluded fools. The power to take to the skies is granted only by blood, and such a sacrifice is so great that ritual obelisks must be placed to contain it. Even then, the user who samples from these Sigils of Flight has only a few moments to savor the feel of air beneath their weight. To think of all the countless souls that were slain, so that a few moments of magic can be experienced... I would laugh if my mask allowed such a thing.

Orb of Deflection


In a twisted world seemingly absent intelligent minds, the denizens of this place nevertheless have cultivated a myriad of clever, far-reaching, methods to butcher their prey. There is scarcely a moment where I am not forced to evade some vile glob of poisonous phlegm or molten ball. This trinket allows me a moment's respite from such volleys, even reflecting some projectiles back to their unfortunate creator.

Vicious Animus


There are few allies in the dark remnants of the world, yet the Vicious Animus serves more use than most. Resembling an egg, an ironic symbol of life, the Vicious Animus is born for only one purpose: to deal death as quickly as possible. When deployed, the small turret immediately pursues its life's purpose with single-minded clarity, spitting orbs of deadly energy at any who dare approach.

Flask of Rage


A potent concoction best saved for moments of overwhelming opposition. The flask of rage is filled with rare ingredients that trigger that darkest propensities within us, blinding our senses to all but the most extreme and primal urges. Every time I imbibe this potion, I desire nothing but the blood of my foes, to rip and tear at them until nothing remains. When the effects wear off, it is as though I have lived a thousand lifetimes in the span of a few moments.

Void Grenade


A delightful armament that deals death not with flame and shrapnel, but with crushing gravity. Take heed to avoid the radius of the Void Grenade when thrown; when activated, the black hole it creates is indiscriminate in its consumption of all around it. When the event horizon closes, the subsequent shower of gore of all caught in the grenade's grasp will surely teach you of its power.

Shockwave


A warlock's trinket from days of old, yet it would be unwise to dismiss its devastating power. With a simple gesture, a blast of raw energy is cast out in all directions, pulverizing any poor fool near to the wearer. A simple tool, but one that will serve you well in moments of need.

Relics pt. 2

Mark of Revelation


This totem has seen many things, hidden things that few if any could ever dream of witnessing. When accessed, the Mark of Revelation uncovers all secrets spread across the immediate region, unlocking both riches and long-forgotten weapons. Incredibly rare, this Mark serves as an amusing reminder of how precious and inaccessible the Truth really is.

[Probably Tired]

Excellent work, any plans to include the bosses?

[AggZ]

Nice writing

[Puss]

Thank you!

[Outlander]

Awesome read. I love this game and I think you really captured the spirit of it all.

[grimmd4ys]

A great read, and the closest thing we have to a game manual. Thank you for your service - your prose is elegant and reformed.

[Puss]

Thank you! Was worth the wait, I do believe.

[RubberJohnny]

Glad to see that you updated this now that the full game is finally out, even after all these years. Fantastic work, man.

[Ince123]

Help I don't know how to use the artefacts ?!! Please help

[spartanezleonid]

Super!

[Medikarp]

Wow, this made me want to do another playthrough.