Encroacher Studies: Ch. 1 | EaC! Commission for NDJack (Patreon)

Author's Note: Jack and I worked together to create a catgirl who studies Encroachers with a specific goal in mind: To see if she can procreate outside of finding a man. These are very NSFW, predominately featuring Catgirl x Monster. Enjoy!

Astrid idly sketched the enormous bird of prey lingering on her windowsill, preening its feathers and accepting chopped bits of rotusk meat at slow intervals. Its golden plumage glimmered in the morning sunlight, and its three eyes peered around her cabin between bouts of cleaning.

‘Golden pherex. Five feet tall with a wingspan of seven feet,’ she noted in her journal beside her drawing. ‘Hunts from dawn to midday, then sleeps beside one companion, exchanging watch cycles at the top of every hour.’

Astrid chewed her lower lip as she swept the charcoal outward, depicting its long tail feathers that very nearly reached the floorboards of her cabin. She’d tracked the golden pherex for almost a week, staying awake for two full moons to discover where it slept, take note of its behavior, find the potential Skills and abilities it harnessed for catgirl use, and every other achingly dull fact that the Guild Hall in Ronona requested of the Encroachers they set her on.

She wasn’t in a position to complain about the Guild Hall’s assignments—they were paying her to study and interact with creatures she adored. However, with the lack of coin use in Khasstead and the haphazard quality of assignments, it didn’t feel like work that meant anything. Every assignment had her tracking basic Encroachers around Nyarlothep that posed little threat to the women living beside them. Even the golden pherex, whom there were very few of remaining in the forests of Khasstead, hadn’t proved to be a dangerous hunt, just a tedious one.

This pherex in particular seemed to have taken a liking to her. For the past two days, he had appeared at her window, snacking on the nyapples she set out in the middle of her kitchen table. She’d expected him to flee as soon as he saw her, but he chirped at her as he would his feathered companion. Thankfully, her own tamed azure gale, Freyja, slept well into the afternoon, or else she’d have a very jealous bird on her hands.

‘Threat level is minimal,’ she scribbled. ‘Golden pherex are social Encroachers that seem to enjoy the company of outside species. No readily apparent Skills useful to catgirls, though their ability to fly at impossible-to-measure heights could lend well to [Farsight].’

She dragged the charcoal down to capture the bird’s powerful claws, and her mind wandered to questionable places as the sharp talons appeared in her journal. How would something so sharp and strong feel on my skin? She shuddered and shook her head. It’s a bird, Astrid, not a man.

But the men were in such short supply. Ni Island hadn’t seen one in all her years growing up in Junonia. There were many beasts in Nyarlea, Encroacher and Defiled alike, with features similar to those of catgirls—two legs, two arms, bipedal, coherent thoughts, and documented cultures. Why rely on just four men to keep their population afloat when there were other possibilities?

Astrid tossed the pherex another chunk of rotusk. He snapped downward, catching the meat midair in a blur, then raised one claw to hold it as he ripped it into beak-sized sections.

“Not all of us can wait for a man forever,” she murmured. “What’s the harm in exploring other options?”

The pherex grunted as if he’d heard her, and one hazel eye turned to rest on Astrid’s face. For a moment, she considered casting [Enrapture Encroacher] for a conversational companion, but she hesitated. Any time she’d tried using it on Freyja, the answers were short, loud, and typically unhelpful. She imagined her newest friend would have little more to comment on than his choice of cuisine.

A knock at the door startled him from the window, and made the decision for her. He flew away as she set aside her sketchbook and hopped up from the table, running her fingers through her long mass of dark hair in the hopes of taming it down a few whiskers. It had a mind of its own on humid days.

When she answered, she found Lily standing on the doorstep, holding a small basket beneath her arm. She smiled brightly. “You always have the most interesting Encroachers following you home, Astrid.”

“He’s a pretty one.” Astrid returned the smile. Lily’s charisma was contagious. “Good morning, Lily. Did the hunt treat you well?”

“Yes! The forest favors us all this day. I’ve packed your share along with spices from Kemna’s farm.” Lily held the basket outward and nodded to a folded piece of parchment that rested on top. “There was a missive for you as well. It has Ronona’s Guild Hall seal.”

Do they need my report on the golden pherex so badly? Astrid accepted the bundle and nodded her head. “Spirits cradle you, Lily. I’ll be sure to thank Kemna later.”

“Of course!” Lily bowed, and the trinkets in her hair jingled pleasantly against one another. “I look forward to our next hunt together.”

“I as well. See you soon.” Astrid closed the door with her foot and carried the basket to the kitchen table.

Freyja’s warning cry that she was awake sounded from her room, precluding powerful wingbeats that carried her into the kitchen before she landed on Astrid’s shoulder.

“Well, good morning to you, too.” Astrid set the note aside and peeled back the blanket on top of the basket. “You must have smelled the sindersnap.” She tugged a sinewy piece of sindersnap meat free and held it up for Freyja. The tree-dwelling, squirrely little beasts were her favorite.

Freyja chirped and snatched the meat away, raising one foot to hold it to her beak and displaying the black and white striped feathers over her belly. Her sapphire flight feathers tickled Astrid’s neck as she moved.

“Glad you’re in a good mood this morning,” Astrid mused as she unfolded the parchment. “What do we have here?”

Lady Astrid,

I hope this finds you well. While we eagerly await your research on the golden pherex, we pen our new request with urgency. An undocumented Encroacher was reported to us halfway between Ronona and Khasstead.

At this time, all we have been able to gather is that this Encroacher inhabits trees in which it hollows out the trunks. While our scholars dig deeper into the limited tomes of Nyarlea’s bestiary, we will refer to this Encroacher as the “Grasping Vines.”

Astrid’s heart sped. They’d never entrusted her with such a rare find. She continued the missive aloud. “‘The Grasping Vines are recognized by their many slender appendages that appear first as branches, then as blue vines when they stir. Great caution should be exercised. The catgirls who brought us this information recounted a dangerous tale.’” She glanced at Freyja. “Blue vines, huh?”

Freyja whistled and took another bite of sindersnap.

“And a rare, dangerous roach? This is more exciting than a Starbirth Celebration.” She folded the parchment and slid it into her [Cat Pack]. It was a good thing Lily’s hunt had gone well; “halfway to Ronona” meant a two-day ride on an epitel. “Ready for a few nights in the forest, Freyja?”

Freyja finished her meal, then busied herself with preening her feathers.

“Of course you are.” Astrid grinned and laid the basket’s contents out on the table.

Lily’s haul gave her plenty of food for the two days it would take to arrive. She could ration it between hunting Encroachers while she studied these grasping vines. She added salt from her stores, five rolls of bannach bread, a small block of cheese, and a second canteen of water to her spread. It was the season for fruits and berries to flourish throughout the forests of Khasstead, so she would have her choice for grazing on the way.

Astrid reached behind Freyja and scratched her soft neck. “No time to waste.” She packed everything into her [Cat Pack], then changed to [Combat Mode]. A quick restock of her quiver and restringing of her bow were all that remained. She’d sharpened her carving knife and dagger shortly after her last hunt with Lily, ensuring that all of her equipment was in excellent shape.

When she stepped outside, she caught sight of Lily skipping down the stairs from Sadie’s cabin across the way. Astrid waved her down and met her in the middle. Freyja took to the skies, stretching her wings in the warm morning sunlight.

“The Guild Hall wants me to study an Encroacher two days north of here,” Astrid explained. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be away.”

“I will take care of the hunts then. Do you need anything more from me?”

“No, Lily.” Astrid rested a hand on Lily’s shoulder. “Thank you. What you brought me this morning is more than enough.”

Lily’s ears flicked forward as she smiled. “Of course. Stay safe, my friend, and may the forest guide your journey.”

“I will. I’ll return as soon as I can.” Astrid turned and jogged for the stables.

There were six epitel housed in Khasstead. Magnificent Encroachers with cervid-like bodies and enormous horns that curved high above their long faces. Their thick tails swept low to the ground, branching out into brown, feather-like structures at their edges. White spots dotted the velvety green fur covering their backs, wrapping around the powerful muscles in their legs.

Astrid was proud to call one of them hers. “Halona! There you are, girl.” She shuffled through the bins of grasses and found the epitel drinking from a pool of rainwater. Halona raised her head and wagged her tail when she heard her master’s voice. “Come, we’re going on an adventure.”

Astrid led Halona outside before mounting her. Once comfortably seated, she looked up at the sky and whistled a short melody shared between her and Freyja. The azure gale dove from high in the sky, then beat her wings to slow her movement before landing on Astrid’s arm.

“Follow me closely, Freyja. Understand?”

Freyja turned one golden eye to look at Astrid, then screeched.

“Good girl.” Astrid kissed Freyja’s cheek, then launched her back up into the air. “Let’s ride.”

The journey was a smooth one, blessedly absent of the hard rains that often appeared in the late spring months. The fresh grasses luring out the better game and Astrid’s successful hunt made it so they all ate well that evening, and she felt a renewed freedom in leaving Khasstead for a few days. Despite living with sisters who believed life’s best opportunities awaited them in the forests, at times she felt shackled with the knowledge that she could do little to help Nyarlea as a whole.

On the second day, Astrid slowed Halona to a trot while she followed and updated the map she’d carefully penned herself in her journal. She preferred staying off of the roads well-traveled, instead navigating by Khasstead landmarks and other features she’d given names to—like the Butterfly Boulders, thanks to their wing-shaped formations.

When she found the Feral Grove in the late afternoon, aptly named for its slanted trees and chaotic growths, the scent in the air changed. The fresh rains and green foliage were replaced by a sour odor, much like spoiled milk.

“Halona, be still,” Astrid whispered.

The epitel snorted and punched her hooves into the dirt, but she stopped walking. Freyja circled around Astrid’s head, awaiting a command. Astrid held up her hand, then curled three fingers down into her palm. Freyja settled on a nearby branch.

As Astrid looked between the curved trunks and clashing branches, her ears rotated on the top of her head in search of the forest’s natural sounds. Birds chirping, Encroachers moving underfoot, buzzing insects, anything. All that found her was silence.

She dismounted Halona, walked her back a few paces, and waited. Outside of Halona’s breathing and the soft shuffle of Freyja’s feathers, it was well and truly silent. Flipping her journal open, she found a fresh page and noted, ‘Grasping Vines: Sour smell?’

The Feral Grove would be a perfect place for a tree-loving Encroacher. The hundreds of tendrils of climbing plants and flowering leaves would hide it perfectly—every catgirl from Khasstead to Ronona knew this place. There were herbs here grown exclusively on San and Ni Island that had traveled on the backs of insects and birds, sprouting in the dark, twisted caverns of non-native trees that had found a new home.

“[Encroacher’s Instinct],” Astrid murmured.

The scene before her faded to shades of grey, and she quickly surveyed the grove. Bloody rotusk hoofprints peppered the grove floor. More sanguine splatters framed by patches of blue fur and chipped teeth painted at least five of the trees within Astrid’s line of vision. To her relief, the markings stopped at least five paces from where she stood. Any farther out, and it was a cold trail.

As the Skill faded, the patchy hues vanished behind thick bushes and multi-colored blooms. Well, something hunted here recently.

As much as Astrid’s curiosity urged her to step into the center of the grove, the Guild Hall had called the monster dangerous. No matter her expertise as a [Sniper], Freyja and Halona would do little to help her if she were caught off guard. And death by a chokehold of tendrils would only prove their reasoning for not sending her to study a rare Encroacher sooner.

She picked up a sizeable rock and hurled it at a whitewood tree in the center. It struck a line of yellow blossoms on its way, sending dozens of petals into the air before bouncing harmlessly off the tree and onto the ground.

Astrid held her breath.

Nothing happened.

“Hm.” She readied her bow and nocked an arrow against its string. Aiming up at the tangle of vines creating the grove’s canopy, she loosed the arrow and watched it soar true, lodging itself into a thick green vine. It swayed with the impact, then stilled.

No reaction. No blue vines. No increase in sour odor.

Perhaps I’m wrong… The smell could be explained away by many things. A rotting carcass, certain flower blooms that catered to specific insects, or discarded leftovers from other travelers. Any beast of prey could have found the grove an adequate hunting spot—catgirls and golden pherex weren’t the only species that loved rotusk meat.

But the silence… Astrid looked at Halona. The epitel’s eyes were wide, her ears rigid and swerving, and her tail low between her legs. She was afraid.

There was certainly an Encroacher nearby. Whether it was her grasping vines or another well-hidden predator, it would be impossible to tell unless Astrid waited and watched.

“Halona, sit,” Astrid urged quietly with a gentle pat on the epitel’s neck.

Halona snorted and shook her head, but she followed the order all the same.

“Freyja,” Astrid murmured. She held her arm straight into the air, then dropped it to her side. Freyja descended, then perched on her shoulder a few seconds later. “[Enrapture Encroacher].”

“Master?” Freyja crooned.

“I need you to keep watch on Halona and me,” Astrid said. “The moment you see a beast heading for either of us, scream.”

“But what if food?” Freyja asked.

Astrid sighed. “I just fed you. Here.” She reached into her [Cat Pack] and summoned another piece of sindersnap meat. “No screaming if it’s food.”

Freyja snatched the strip in her beak and hummed in contentment as she chewed away.

“No screaming if food. No screaming if shiny. Only scream if danger.”

“Yes, Master,” Freyja replied between bites.

“Good. Stay high up. Make sure you can still see us both.”

“Yes, Master.” Freyja repositioned the sindersnap into her claw, then took off for the branches.

Astrid knelt to one knee and huddled near the bend of Halona’s torso. She took a chunk of dried meat from her [Cat Pack] and chewed it, keeping her bow and arrow readily available should an Encroacher have an idea to rush them.

It was strange, sitting in a soundless forest. The cacophony of Encroachers had always been like a persistent melody to her, encouraging her on a hunt or lulling her off to sleep. Every field report she’d completed so far had an Encroacher that interacted well within its ecosystem, adding to the choir of the forest with its own voice. This one felt foreign; invasive. Its presence overpowered those who lived here, and its stench consumed the forest’s bouquet.

An hour passed. Then two. A swarm of pinkwing beetles flew over the grove to no effect. A butterfly landed harmlessly on a flower, then flew away again. Astrid kept an eye on the sun’s position and laid her journal out flat. If nothing happened soon, she would continue her search elsewhere. But something in the back of her mind urged her to stay, and the girls of Khasstead relied on that instinct every single time.

A rustling of leaves to the left startled Astrid out of her thoughts. The tiny black nose and beady eyes of a feset peered over the fallen trunk of a nearby tree, and it sniffed the air. Its plump, furry body clambered over the trunk, followed by its thick tail.

Freyja loved feset meat. Astrid silently prayed that her bird wouldn’t scream.

The feset slipped through the bushes, rustling the leaves and branches along the way. Astrid heard a slow, gradual slithering from above and looked up. Two of the vines transitioned from their natural dark green to a blue like the depths of the ocean.

Astrid froze and readied her pen. Dinner time?

As the small creature wandered into the center of the grove, the twin vines lowered. In a display of speed that made Astrid catch her breath, one of the vines lunged at the feset in a serpent-like strike. There was a short tussle in the bushes, and then the tentacle pulled back, lifting the feset into the air. It struggled and squealed for the span of a few heartbeats while the second tentacle’s ending split in half and opened wide, baring four lines of razor-sharp teeth, then snapped down around the feset, enveloping it whole in its mouth.

Astrid scooped her journal into her lap, quickly writing notes as she watched the appendage shrink in size as it chewed.

‘The grasping vines likely fall within the plant family of Encroachers. Resides high off of the forest floor. Carnivorous. Remains in camouflage if attacked and ignores insects. Can only reach a certain distance—this particular specimen cannot reach me from approximately fifteen feet from the forest’s canopy. Its vine-like tendrils remain at rest unless it senses prey within its grasp. Could potentially change vine color. More study required.’

Her hand began to shake. Now that she could see it, she could potentially speak with it, assuming it was willing to have a conversation.

She stood and waited until the vines slowly withdrew to their canopy before she focused on the blue tendril, then spoke the words, “[Enrapture Encroacher].” She took a deep breath. “Can you hear me?”

The vine froze in place.

“I want to speak with you.”

Three more vines descended from the canopy. Black, glistening orbs were connected to their ends, and each one of them turned to stare at Astrid. The tendril that had consumed the feset joined their number, opening and closing its mouth as if testing the air.

“Watcher,” it said at last. The voice was gruff and harsh, much deeper in tone than any catgirl Astrid had ever heard.

“Where did you come from?”

“Born here.”

Likely a seed or an egg. It was an Encroacher that required a thick forest and humidity. The Feral Grove had plenty of sunlight and opportunities for it to hide itself. Did it come from San or Ni Island, perhaps? “How do you breed?”

To Astrid’s surprise, the vine grinned. “You.”

Astrid’s heart skipped. “You mean catgirls?”

“Yes. Ones like you.” A long tongue protruded from its mouth and licked around its entrance. “Others too…delicate.”

“You don’t eat us?”

“No.”

A shiver slid down her spine. While it didn’t feed on catgirls, using them to spread its seed was just as dangerous. And still, Astrid couldn’t bring herself to reach for her bow.

“You do not run,” the Encroacher said.

Astrid searched the orbs for a response. What she felt was sacrilege, both as a [Sniper] of Khasstead and a follower of Saoirse.

“Why?”

Astrid flinched, then shook her head. “Call it wild curiosity.” She laid her [Cat Pack] and her journal near Halona. Stroking the epitel’s nose, she muttered, “Stay,” before signaling to Freyja to hold her position. With shaking hands, she turned back to the grasping vines and stepped forward. “Show me.”

“Show?”

She swallowed hard, and her heart raced so quickly that she felt dizzy. “Breed me.”

The Encroacher paused and readjusted its orbs into a triangular shape. Four more vines wiggled free from the canopy and shifted from green to blue. “Trap?” They moved to flank the spheres and mouth.

“[Civilian Mode].” Her longbow resting near Halona vanished, and her combat leathers were replaced with a cinnamon-colored twill dress that hung off of one shoulder. She took another step forward, knowing that she had moved within the roach’s grasp. “Not a trap,” she whispered, holding her arms out to her sides, palms up.

“Strange one.” The four vines lunged forward, wrapping around Astrid’s wrists and thighs. One of the spheres parted from its trio and hooked around her back before all five lifted her from the ground. The vine that served as its mouth wound its way forward and hovered just inches away from her chest.

Astrid sucked in a breath and balled her hands into fists. She was trusting an Encroacher at its word, placing her life in the hope that however the grasping vines’ young was born wouldn’t kill her. It was foolish, brash, and deranged.

But if she could survive this, then the experiments she so desperately craved could come to fruition.

The grasping vines have tendrils that act as binds, holding their mate in place. She imagined writing the notes down as if she were an outside viewer and not the subject of her report.

The vine ejected a steaming liquid that coated the front of her dress, soaking through to her underthings. Hissing filled her ears as she watched the threads break apart, dissolving away to reveal the same thing happening to her bra and panties underneath. It… It secretes…

“Saoirse, forgive me,” she whispered as the remnants of her clothing dropped away to the forest floor. Goosebumps prickled her naked skin, and her nipples hardened from the cool air.

“You do not fight.” The vines raised her arms above her head and arched her torso with the sphere against the small of her back.

“No.” Three more appendages dropped from the forest ceiling, but these ones had unique, diamond-shaped ends with groupings of short, undulating fibers on one side. Two of the diamonds aligned themselves over her breasts as the vines around her thighs spread her legs wide. The third fit itself squarely between her thighs, where the finger-like extensions spread the folds of her sex and hungrily fondled her clit.

“Ah…hah!” It felt as if a hundred tiny tongues plied and teased at her nipples and between her legs. Astrid’s eyes rolled back, and her hips bucked, though her movements were limited from her suspension in the air. The vines tightened around her wrists and thighs, and her toes curled. “W—mnh!—why?”

“What?”

“W-why p-pl—hah!” Astrid fought to speak between her moans. Her arms jerked, and her legs trembled. Every time she thought she had a cohesive word on her tongue, another shock of pleasure rocketed from between her legs or shocked her chest. Her own searing secretions dripped down the inside of her thighs, and she gasped. “P-pleasure me?” she managed at last.

“It is necessary.” One of the glistening spheres repositioned itself between her knees. The black orb split into multiple sections, then peeled backward like a second layer of skin to reveal a throbbing, phallic appendage the size of Astrid’s forearm.

Her eyes widened, and fear numbed the constant stimulation from the diamonds. But the grasping vines did not offer her an opportunity to retort. Holding the bottom half of her body aloft by her thighs and lower back, it repositioned her head and hands so that she stared up at the sky. The tendril between her legs lifted just enough to bare her dripping sex, and the appendage plunged inside of her.

The Encroacher stretched her body wider than she ever thought possible. Buried itself deeper than she imagined safe. It explored, violated, and molded her to its whims. Astrid cried out a sound that was as bestial as it was carnal.

The appendage withdrew, then thrust back inside of her. Again. Then again. Every ridge and bump on its length hitched against her body and made themselves known on their entry and exit.

“I-I’m— I’m—!” It was so much. Too much. Not enough. Her body convulsed with her climax around the being inside of her. The tongues on her breasts and clit reveled with excitement around their erect provocations.

“Again,” the grasping vines said.

The appendage moved deeper inside of her, kneading into spots that Astrid didn’t know existed. Her first orgasm hadn’t resolved before the Encroacher trigged another one from her depths, raising her cries to screams.

“Good.”

Don’t stop…

As her skin pulsed and she fought to breathe. The appendage withdrew, and she whimpered with its absence. Every vine rotated and flipped Astrid on her stomach. The tendril that had held the small of her back circled beneath her navel and forced her flank higher in the air. A fresh tendril lifted her tail, and her shaking thighs were spread once more.

Please…

Her silent pleas were answered when the appendage penetrated her once more, this time more engorged than the last. Astrid squealed and wriggled her hips. H-how…? How was she able to sheathe something so large?

‘It is necessary.’

Goddess above.

Her skin had grown so sensitive that she felt every passing breeze, every stray leaf that caught her stomach or toes as the vines moved. It only added to the myriad sensations her flesh endured.

As the thrusting sped, the tension between her legs compounded, and her lips numbed. She couldn’t hold back her climaxes, not when she was laid so vulnerable.

A new vine dropped from the canopy and peeled back its skin. Another cry tore from her chest, and the second pulsing appendage slipped between her lips. Astrid gasped and gagged as it slid to the back of her throat, testing the depths of this new orafice and rolling against her tongue.

“Very good.”

Muffled moans and staccato whimpers caused by the force between her legs passed the barrier in her mouth, and tears gathered in her vision from her constant struggle to breathe. But she couldn’t bring herself to close her eyes. Watching the blue tendril tense and thrust inside her mouth was hypnotic.

So good… This feels so good…

Astrid’s thoughts were soaked in ecstasy, and she yielded her throat to the Encroacher as she had her womb. The tendrils spread her legs wider, and she didn’t resist.

“You are ready.”

The diamonds released a warm, viscous substance that lubricated her nipples and clit, and the hundred tongues renewed their fervor. The appendage between her legs and the one in her throat moved in tandem, both withdrawing and entering at the same time. It was impossible to catch a breath. Impossible to scream. As they grew more urgent, they expanded against her walls and cheeks, reshaping her anew.

More!

Astrid watched as the vine near her mouth thickened and then released, spilling red-hot liquid down her throat. She swallowed what she could, the excess sliding from the corners of her lips and dripping down her chin. The sudden burst inside of her made her eyes bulge, and her ears stiffen. The appendage’s release erupted against the tender places it had kneaded into submission, pushing Astrid into a final climax. White spots exploded in her vision, and her tail curled around the vine holding it.

The grasping vines drew away from her throat and sex, then lowered her near Halona. Astrid pulled her legs to her chest and rested her head on her knees. The ground was freezing against her heated skin.

I mated with an Encroacher. An unexpected string of giggles broke free from her lips.

Freyja screamed, dove from her branch, then reappeared near Astrid’s head with a coppertail rat in her beak. Food. Shiny food.

Astrid’s giggles crescendoed into unbridled laughter until she couldn’t breathe.

I, Astrid of Khasstead, mated with an Encroacher.

“Very strange,” the grasping vines murmured as it retreated to its canopy.

Grasping Vines Report

Astrid of Khasstead

The grasping vines likely fall within the plant family of Encroachers. It prefers to reside high off of the forest floor, catching its prey by surprise with serpent-like speed and dexterity.

From my personal trials, it remains camouflaged if provoked by a physical attack. When active to feed or mate, the vines turn a deep shade of blue. Whether their camouflaged color can change will require further study.

Magic remains untested, though fire may work well.

The grasping vines seem to ignore Encroachers from the insect family. I was able to view this with pinkwing beetles and butterflies. It is unknown whether larger insects, like kylites, provoke its interest or serve as sustenance. Many of the larger species of insects have not returned from their migrations at the time of writing. 

Grasping vines have limited reach. The particular specimen I discovered in the Feral Grove could not reach me from approximately fifteen feet from its canopy.

This Encroacher is carnivorous. While it may thrive in its native lands—likely Ni Island or San Island—I do not recommend cultivating it elsewhere, such as Nyarlothep. It is an all-consuming, invasive species with an indiscriminate diet. Left unchecked, it could lead to the extinction of smaller Encroacher species.

I discovered that it drives the majority of surrounding species away, as noted by the lack of Encroachers observed in the Feral Grove, where this set of vines was discovered. However, those drawn to its sour-smelling aroma will find themselves quickly overpowered.

The means of its procreation also raises concern. It carries its species by means of breeding with catgirls, which is alarming news for travelers and natives alike. It utilizies twin appendages protected by an outer layer to spread its seed, which are impossible to pick out among its attacking vines. If you have received reports of victims of the grasping vines’ mating habits, I recommend an elixir of silkweed, lotus root, and short thorns. It will kill all active eggs and allow them to pass harmlessly through the body.

After surveying the grasping vines for three full days, I assess this Encroacher as a high threat level and advise either relocating it from Nyarlothep to its native homeland (my assessments lead me to believe San or Ni Island), or dispatching it entirely.