Skittish scrambler of the Far Fields. Its antennae resemble stalks of grass to aid in camouflage.

You can find a complete list of all journal entries, in their in-game order and with map links, in our All Journal Entries guide.

It has no means to defend itself. Its only hope for survival is to be mistaken for a plant.

Docile bug whose wings mimic the grasses of the Far Fields. A common snack for larger predators.

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When roosting, it would look convincingly plant like. In flight, its bulbous body quickly ruins the ruse.

Rarely seen beetle that spends most of its life nestled deep in bone and rock. The Flintgems on its shell excrete an explosive powder.

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Its bright gems could be used to make beautiful, but short-lived jewellery. An amusing idea for a gift… or a trap.

Brave worker carrying unstable flintflame and wearing a heavy bell to protect against potential ignition.

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Theirs would be a high risk life, followed by a short, searing end.

Aerial worker lost to Pharloom’s Haunting. Bears a pouch full with flintstone which they will fling at intruders.

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That incendiary material they carry is a natural wonder, with many potential applications. What a waste to carelessly throw it at me whenever I pass by.

Airborne pest, less common than its grounded siblings. Attacks with sharp fangs if agitated.

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Similar bugs would gnaw away at unguarded food supplies in my homeland. As a child I would hunt them, eager to make use of myself and test my skills.

Infant fly, freshly hatched. At this age the soft, blind fly is little more than a bother.

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The less these gruesome bugs breed, the better.

Burrower that nests in the Bellvein and seeks out hard bells to protects its soft body.

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I would very much like to feel their soft fur, if only they weren’t so hostile.

Floral foe with a core shaped to mimic a mask. The core can be thrust forth to bludgeon unwary bugs.

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The false mask alone is frightening enough to scare away smaller pests.

Enormous tubular beast uniquely suited to living close to the void below.

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Amazingly, the creature carries the void’s black liquid in its stomach, violently spraying it forth if threatened.

Sightless burrower that reacts violently to the slightest sound.

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A common enough bug, though not to be underestimated. The acuteness of their other senses more than makes up for their lack of vision.

Full-sized mite of the Citadel cloaked in an old curtain.

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Few creatures of that Silk stricken place would find nourishment enough to grow so large.

Tiny empty creature, barely a bug. Swallows its prey whole and sucks their nutrients until nothing remains.

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This one disturbs me… There is something in its simplicity. Do I almost feel fear?

High standing insect of the Choir, bearing a bow. This elite Reed has been trained and fed beyond its smaller fellows.

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This bug bears a spool of Silk, which they flail to attack. Though somewhat crude, theirs is a technique much reminiscent of Weavers. I wonder who taught them such a use?

Burrowing worm that uses its many blunted teeth to dig through even the hardest bone.

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They ceaselessly churn through rock and bone without ever seeming to rest. Do they have a destination? Or are they compelled to dig forever deeper?

Young masked worm that delights in ambushing intruders within its tunnels.

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A frustrating fiend. They flee beneath the bone whenever I try to strike them down.

Starved servant of the Slab, bearing a hooked longpin.

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The smell from these jailers overwhelms my senses. I strongly doubt they have ever thought to bathe.

Tall creature with sharp senses. Defends its herd with powerful legs and a sharp tipped mask.

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There is surprising strength hidden in their thin, elegant limbs. It would be a pleasure to ride upon it…

Grazing creature with sharp senses that nimbly retreats from danger.

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Despite the Haunting of its shell, it has not been overcome with aggression. Its desire to flee remains too strong.

Spine-shooting drifter of the lowlands.

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Whatever admiration I had for its fleecy down is spoilt by its disturbing mask… and its steely spines.

Oversized bug, briefly consumed by anger after its long time caged.

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I would not have guessed so large and marvellous a flea existed. I am pleased it saw sense before I had to strike a killing blow.

Slow drifting bug with a heavy top shell. The bug reacts little to threats, even those that could claim its life.

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The poor creature has lived a life too calm and coddled. It would not fare well in the world beyond its walls.

Gilded guardian of the Blasted Steps, bearing a cymbal and mallet.

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They remorsely eliminate any pilgrim or passerby deemed impure to their sight. The countless husks, strewn on paths beside them, tell of their conclusive decisions.

Plump, plentiful drifter of a coral past.

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They once teemed around their tower, in numbers immense. It is a rare chance to witness such a bountiful display of life.

Lithe, winged scouts frequently paired with their heavier brethren.

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Its training resembles my own, favouring fast strikes and rapid movement. Once a hunter, perhaps?

Heavy, hard-shelled charger relying on weight and strength.

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Far tougher for being matched inside their encrusted domain. They must have lived their whole lives within their tower, to command it so.

Staunch and skilled bladebug of a once flourishing land lost to time.

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The core member of a powerful order, trained fearless and faithful. Theirs was a kingdom of warriors, one built upon their blades.

Small boney bug that favours dark tunnels. Can expand its spiked carapace to ward against attacking predators.

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I am fond of simple, effective traps such as this bug’s extendable spikes. An unwary predator would be skewered clean through.

Child of Verdania, fully capable to fight despite its young age.

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Fierce and fast, and defending their lands even from birth. These are children to be proud of.

Disciple of the Whispering Vaults, tasked to navigate its dim recesses to retrieve old scrolls.

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An essential bug if one ever hoped to navigate that dark maze of stacks and scrolls.

Elite former hunter acting as the final line of defence before their mother.

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Their skill once saw them chosen, and I can plainly see why. They would have lived and trained only for this duty.

Fully grown mollusc able to unleash a gushing torrent of burning fluid from its back.

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To survive while storing so much searing fluid within… Before I would have believed it impossible, but Pharloom is home to many marvels.

Sticky mollusc that defends itself by spraying burning fluid from growths on its back.

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What seems at first a purely defensive mechanism may also be necessary to rid this creature of excess heat.

Fine winged flyer that survives in flocks.

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So light they can rest atop still water’s surface. An elegant bug indeed.

Pointed scurrier posing as plant life.

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Simple. Graceful. Another fine bug lost forever from these lands.

Choir commander of the High Halls, able to summon and command cogflies at a flick of their baton.

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Once they summoned song from their subjects. Now they rise only to command an end to those unstrung.

Giant roller of the lowlands. Its ridged hide will crush smaller creatures beneath it.

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Sheer bulk makes for an effective weapon, but requires much sustenance. This creature would have spent most of its time eating. An acceptable life for some.

Unnaturally overgrown Mossgrub, bred within the Citadel’s Memorium.

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So close to a perfect furred form… If only they’d been able to breed out the spines.

Young, boney bug that can curl its body to form a ball.

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Their rough, ridged shell grips tight to any surface. Even walls and roofs become pathways for these nimble bugs.

Learned disciple of the Choir charged to maintain the Citadel’s Memorium.

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From the outset, theirs was a hopeless task. Those wild lands could never be replicated within a space so artificial.

Gold ranked disciple of the Choir and direct servant to the Citadel’s Conductors.

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The lethality of these bugs is unexpected. Their bodies were never built for combat. The Haunting has altered their nature dramatically.

Crawling insect with a sizzling bile sack in its abdomen.

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The threat of its exploding rear is an effective deterrent to predators, but the slightest jolt or fall can cause its premature end.

Verminous pest, common throughout the dark corners of Greymoor.

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Individually they offer little challenge, but their numbers are surely vast and most remain hidden.

Aged female mite, grown larger and stronger than most of its kin.

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Poor of sight but possessing a keen sense of smell, it uses its bulk to charge at foreign scents. Remaining fierce so far into old age is an admirable trait.

Flighted creature formed from coldshard. If shattered it will quickly reform.

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The coldshard, even when destroyed it remembers its former shape. A remarkable material, and perhaps even more astonishing there seems life contained within it.

Huge flighted creature formed from coldshard.

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This larger form carries so much weight it can barely move from its place.

Altered servant of the Citadel’s Whiteward, responsible for the cremation of husks and the recycling of Silk from their shells.

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It lies low to the ground, perhaps out of reverence for its task, but can spring up suddenly to attack. Its shear makes for a deadly weapon with surprising reach.

Fur covered crawler with a series of sharp spikes along its back.

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If not for the spikes, I would think it an appealing bug.

Small fluttering creature capable of defending itself with its small stinger.

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This bug is soft and clumsy, but to its fortune its home caves seem relatively free of effective predators. I wonder why that is.

A rare, calmer bug of Bilewater, survives its hazardous surroundings by hiding as a plant.

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This one is pretty, but not as soft as first it seems. The plant it mimics is flaked and coarse, and the bug’s coat shares similar texture.

Mindless infant larva, coated in thick slime.

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They cling fast to the shells of other bugs, destroying any hope for concentration or comfort.

Starved pack bug with an insatiable appetite. Despite their tough hide and pungent meat, roaches breed rapidly so are sometimes farmed for food.

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A revolting creature. My shell itches at their presence. In the pens where their numbers grow vast, I am forever on edge.

Predatory plant with a powerful jaw shaped to resemble a lily pad.

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A snapping surprise on first encounter, though one easily avoided once aware.

Aged pilgrim, overgrown with lichen and moss.

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The moss looks to grow even inside their stomach, which the pilgrim spits at foes in compressed gobs. A foul form of offence.

Flighty insect that lives beside still waters.

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Though generally passive, their sharp masks can cause injury if carelessly blundered into.

Heavy insect that lives near large bodies of water. Its weighty body is best avoided.

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When they do not hinder my path, I find their simple motion rather pleasant.

Humbled prisoner serving their sentence for sin committed within the Citadel.

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All are haunted here, the jailers and the jailed. Do they realise they will never leave this place? Or how long they have stayed already?

Drifting bug disguised as a flower. Disperses crackling clouds of pollen if threatened.

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Quite a beautiful creature. In my own kingdom’s court it would have been highly favoured as an ornamental pet.

Small arachnid found in many crevices and caves throughout Pharloom.

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Something in their assault reminds me of my own skill, though their talents are born purely of instinct. My technique is formed from hard training.

Arachnid that nestles within dark holes in cavern roofs. Pounces on prey from far above.

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A smart hunter learns to wait long in ambush, always ready to strike the first blow.

Common bug wielding a set of old bells. The bug will fling the bells at anyone it deems still free.

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Their bells would once have rung with hope and mirth, lifting the spirits of any climbing companions. Sadly, those instruments have turned purely to combative use.

Basic bug of Pharloom, laid low upon the ground.

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Taken by Pharloom’s Haunting, the bug is now capable of little more than prayer and aggression.

Old pilgrim carrying a heavy iron bell staff.

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The large bell seems to signify them as once leader of a climbing troupe, though the Haunting has erased that former authority.

Hard-shelled bug with a climber’s pin. Their pin, once aid, has become a weapon, though the bug is unrefined in its use.

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A bug once frail, pushed by twisted thread beyond its mortal limits.

Short pilgrim that uses their long horn to launch upon threats.

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Birth equipped this one well. In its assault it becomes its own projectile.

Sturdy bug lost to the Haunting. Rolls at threats with no care for its own discomfort.

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A rare built bug within these ailing lands. Most pilgrims’ shells seem small by comparison. What nourishment did they discover to grow so large?

Agile bug of Pharloom, its higher functions have been lost to the Haunting.

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With a softer shell than most, they would have relied on their athleticism to survive.

Mutated young worm infected with Plasmium. The new form displays potent regenerative skill.

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Pharloom shall quickly learn the curse of this substance. What benefits it provides can be swiftly outweighed.

Large worm mutated heavily by Plasmium. The creature has become fused to the roof of its cave, no longer able to move freely.

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In my home caves, when once this substance was allowed to flourish, I saw similar aberrations. This is wonder tainted strong with revulsion.

Drifting creature with a wide coral mask and hard proboscis to stab its prey.

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Passively waits for prey to blunder into its path. A technique that should not necessarily be derided. Whatever is effective is best.

Floral foe that reacts instinctively to movement nearby. Spits pellets of crackling pollen that burst on impact.

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What exceptional senses it possesses. It detects me with ease, even when not a single sound is made.

Hard-shelled insect common upon the surface of Shellwood Pond. Once a staple food for passing pilgrims.

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The way they skate along the water’s surface is so elegant. Surely it is a skill that can be learned? When time permits, I should attempt the task.

Old catcher over Shellwood Pond, bearing a longpin and stricken by the Haunting.

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Once a hunter purely for food, now they hunt unthinking and unending.

Small bug, shackled and cowled for sin committed within the Citadel.

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Their thick shroud leaves them sightless, yet it seems to matter little. They have no care for their own safety, wishing only to charge at those they sense as sinful.

Disciple of the Choir, charged to maintain its perfect order, by sharp pin if necessary.

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A form well suited for combat, lithe and fast. No surprise it seems to rank so high amongst its cult.

Long-horned beast of Pharloom’s lowlands. Relies on its horn both to impale and to wrench the ground beneath it, flinging dangerous debris.

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Certain tools and skills can pierce its defences. I should adjust my strategy as needed.

Short, nimble bug who uses barbed bolas to keep beasts corralled and caged.

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Their throwing weapon is well-suited to the wide caverns they inhabit. These sly little bugs must have a keen claw for crafting.

Tall roach tender charged to feed Muckroaches on a lean diet of maggot gruel.

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The feeder’s curled pin looks designed to keep ravenous roaches at bay, and the tender from turning into the meal.

Grizzled older roach tender weighted with a lasso of heavy chain.

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Though their mind is largely lost their skill with a chain has not been forgotten. Does the Haunting eternally bind a bug to the task it had in life?

Brutish cook responsible for dicing Muckroach meat into edible portions.

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Could their actions be called skill? I see only a crude mangling of meat. Yet I wonder, before the Haunting snared their minds was it any different?

Shell plated worm that lives beneath pools of shifting sand.

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Bursts forth at movement sensed close, and will consume any object or bug careless enough to fall into its maw.

Sticky young fly, born and grown in service to the Slab.

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Foul creatures birthed into servitude. Their plight elicits no sympathy from me.

Gilded servant of the Whispering Vaults, born to read and recall the near endless scrolls of prayer.

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Did they ever truly understand those inscrutable scrolls? Or is it all merely pretence, an endless act to maintain their order’s station within the Citadel?

Broken construct built by Weavers past, able to fire a focused beam of silklight to carve halls and chambers through ice and bone.

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The servitor has been heavily damaged by time and the elements. Its actions have grown erratic. It seems no longer able to discern friend from foe.

Small construct built by Weavers past, brought to life through Silk runes threaded within.

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Though the Weavers have long passed from Pharloom, this servant still performs its function.

Bulky worm of the deepest depths. Lives in tight crevices and uses its weighty body to batter.

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These ones grow large, yet I have never observed them eating, or sleeping. They seem such simple bugs… but I suspect they are not truly our cousins.

Shell-plated worm found only in the deepest depths. Seems to survive despite consuming no food or liquid.

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A creature long familiar to me. I suspect that no matter how far I travel, if I descend deep enough they will always be there.

Devious ambusher that poses as a fossil.

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Once roused, the bug will crash its steely shell into walls, floors and foes.

Tiny, soft creature that armours itself using the hard, hollow growths of Shellwood.

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If the woody hide is shattered, the bug will still bravely, foolishly try to attack.

Scissor-wielding bug charged to cut and spool fallen dregs of Silk for return to the Citadel above.

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Is it the Haunting that drove them to cackling madness, or was their unending toil the cause even before that?

Young ant hunter wielding sickles carved from teeth. Will often call for aid if danger comes close.

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Despite their youth, they are impressive opponents. It seems likely their tribe were trained for combat from birth.

Skilled ant hunter bearing blade and armour fashioned from bone.

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Fierce, strong and disciplined… yet these qualities do not protect them from the Haunting. Is such a fate inevitable in these lands?

Small burrowing ant, servant to the larger Skarr.

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These bugs work mainly as finders and foragers for the warriors of their tribe. Combat has not long been their nature.

Darting predator that clings fast to roofs and outcrops, often summoned to aid its larger companions.

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They would make effective hunting companions, though even without the Haunting I suspect their loyalty would always remain to their clan.

Common crawler that lives beneath sand.

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This surface dweller is free of Silk. Its nature remains its own. The monarch’s influence must only have stretched below it.

Soft bug beneath a huge, horned skull. Charges at intruders to protect its territory and its smaller companions.

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Either its size has made it fearless or the Haunting has removed its sense of self-preservation.

Small, soft bug that uses the hard skulls of the Marrow for protection and disguise.

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In every land, creatures find new and surprising ways to disguise themselves. One must be wary always.

Airborne relative of the grounded Skull Scuttler, found only in the Marrow’s deepest, hottest caves.

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Such feeble creatures could only survive thanks to the rarity of predators in these super-heated caverns.