**The Pale Rider [S-rank: Dravanian Forelands] **
Another request sent by a Sharlayan Scholar from the safety of his homeland. The fellow's uncovered an ancient prophecy, saying that in the end of days, a deathly knight will rise from the grave and bring death and destruction to Dravania atop an ashen steed.
If the Scholar is right, and this "end of days" does indeed refer to the Seventh Umbral Calamity, then this supernatural horseman should already be among us, but I don't see any death and destruction around here. Well, no more than normal, anyways...
Honestly, I think it's all a pile of chocobo plop. There was an adventurer passed through the other day, said he'd seen a headless horseman out in the hinterlands when she was hunting for treasure... but believe you me, you can trust those looters as far as you can throw them!
**Leucrotta [S-Rank: Azys Lla]**
The southern continent of Meracydia was a land of Dragons. The monsters came in all shapes and sizes, each species evolving to fit into its own particular habitat.
Take the courel-dragon - a beast that made its home in the Meracydian jungles. It started off as a dragon like any other, but over time it lost its wings, being unext to useless in the thick brush, and gained the flexible body and muscular limbs of a courel.
They were fierce hunters and scavengers, dirven into a feeding frenzy the moment they c aught scent of beast blood. The merchants who posted the bill reckons one of these beasts, a courel dragon by the name of Leucrotta, is up in the clouds right now, living on an abandoned allagan island
**Senmurv [S-rank: Dravanian Forelands] **
'Ave ye ever set yer eyes on a griffin, Caex'ra? They're 'alf eagle, 'alf lion, an' all 'unter. Just like a chocobo trapper, they stalk their prey from the shadows - or in their case the clouds - waitin' fer the perfect time to strike.
The chocobo 'unters o' Tailfeather've got a certain credo about pickin' when to spring the trap - "'unt the 'unter,", they say. Whatever quarry yer after, ye stand better chance o' catchin' it unawares if it's busy tryin' to catch its own prey.
Seems it's a motto ol' Senmurv's taken to 'eart. Whenever a group of 'ungry beasts 'eads out on the 'unt, the king o' the griffins'll swoop down from the sky an carry off as many as 'is beak'll 'old.