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A New Chapter in The Seven Impossible Mysteries of Reed Miller, Thief Extraordinaire!

Chapter 5

Snezhnaya Vestnik

The Seven Impossible Mysteries of Reed Miller, Thief Extraordinaire!
The Seven Impossible Mysteries of Reed Miller, Thief Extraordinaire: The Platinum Piece
Chapter V

...

"Indeed, you are entirely correct," Grand Duke Brahe Trubetskoy replied with serene composure. "Your poor wife has always been thus — forever yearning after a life of unbounded luxury, and resolved to live, and spend, with all the prodigality of a true grand duchess."

"So... am I to understand, Your Excellency, that my wife stole your platinum chess piece?" The color fled Viscount Shuisky's face, leaving it as white as the snow beyond the windows. Almost at once, however, his complexion darkened to a livid grey. The inference was so preposterous, and the shock of it so profound, that he appeared scarcely able to comprehend what he had heard. "No, no... How could she possibly have done such a thing?"

"Vanity is her great weakness," the Grand Duke continued at his leisure. "But you, Andrei Dmitriyevich, possess only the rank and revenues of a viscount. You might have ground every unfortunate soul upon your estates beneath the millstone, pressing them like Rimecurrants until not a drop of oil remained to be wrung from them, and still her insatiable vanity would have demanded more. And thus resentment began to put forth its first shoots within your heart, rank as brambles and thornweed. That, however, was only part of the matter. Your noble and kindly heart had found another object for its affections: Miss Milady de Este, the celebrated Fontainian diva lately arrived from the Opera Epiclese. Is it not so? Oh, pray do not misunderstand me. I have no wish to reproach you for loving her. Indeed, what man could behold so pampered and imperious a beauty — so dazzling in her ostentation, like a peacock in full display — and not feel his heart stirred? No, it was not your love that condemned you, but what you did in its name. For her sake, you murdered your wife. You appropriated the treasure I had entrusted to your keeping, a precious relic bestowed upon me by His late Imperial Majesty. And, most contemptible of all, you fastened the sordid charge of absconding with the valuables upon your poor dead wife, knowing that she could no longer utter a word in her own defense. Ah, even one dog would not treat another so! And your wife was so beautiful... and loved you so dearly."

The Viscount kept his eyes fixed upon the Grand Duke's almost preternaturally handsome face. Meanwhile, as though guided by an impulse of which he was scarcely conscious, his right hand slipped deep into the pocket of his overcoat. His cracked lips quivered. He seemed on the verge of speaking, yet no sound emerged. He merely opened and closed his mouth like a fish cast upon the shore. At length, he lurched to his feet. A look of sorrow, almost of self-pity, had settled over his features, and when at last he found his voice, it came harsh and hoarse.

"My good man, my dear Brahe Prokhorovitch, what extraordinary notion is this? I beg you, hear me before you proceed any further... From whose contemptible lips did you receive so baseless a calumny, conceived in malice and fashioned wholly from lies? And why should you — a man whom I have always esteemed as good — choose to inflict such torment upon a bereaved husband, accusing him, His Majesty preserve us, of having murdered the wife dearest to his heart? You must pardon the liberty, Brahe Prokhorovitch, but are you fully master of your reason? It is beyond comprehension, beyond all comprehension... You would impute so monstrous a deed to me? To me, Andrei Dmitriyevich Shuisky, a gentleman upon whom His Majesty himself conferred the dignity of a title? How deeply you have wounded me! Yet the respect due to your exalted station compels me to say it once more: I have done nothing wicked, nothing contrary to heaven or conscience. As for this accusation that I appropriated the platinum chess piece, it is an injustice beyond measure, sheer nonsense from beginning to end. Perhaps you have drunk rather too much hot tea. Perhaps some delirium has seized you... But no matter. Have it as you will! Send men to search my residence this very instant. Let them prise up every floorboard and strip the plaster from every wall. If you find so much as—"

"Then be so good as to remove your glove. The one upon your right hand, if memory serves."

...

Chapter 11

Snezhnaya Vestnik

The Seven Impossible Mysteries of Reed Miller, Thief Extraordinaire!
The Seven Impossible Mysteries of Reed Miller, Thief Extraordinaire: The Platinum Piece
Chapter 11

...

"Me? My good sirs, what manner of farce is this?" Grand Duke Brahe Trubetskoy swept his gaze — at once amused and perplexed — over the police officers who were swarming around him like flies, fawning over him desperately. "All my servants can vouch for me! I haven't even stepped foot outside my estate these past few days, being occupied entirely with discussing refined Fontainian operas with Mademoiselle Milady de Este. Where on earth would I have encountered this Viscount Shuisky? Why, I haven't even glimpsed his shadow!"

The officers who had intended to curry favor with him were suddenly struck dumb, left only to exchange bewildered glances. Police Chief Duleyev — our most esteemed Chief — hastily removed his hat and recounted, with great care and in full detail, the events that had transpired: how the young Grand Duke had first arrived as Her Majesty's special envoy, how he had instantly seen through Viscount Shuisky’s ruses, how he had confronted the Viscount and knocked him unconscious with a single punch before the man could even draw his pistol, and how he had personally recovered the stolen platinum piece, and in an act of great mercy helped the locals bury the unfortunate Viscountess...

"Ah, that heartless, raving mad beast, that wicked bandit!" The police chief's face was flushed with intense emotion. "He even cut off one of his fingers, that it might allay suspicion of his guilt! He then hid the lost piece in his glove before speaking to us as if nothing had happened! He even went so far as to use some other poor soul's body to fool us, leading us to believe that some more terrifying serial murder was at play behind this case. Archon's sake, we dug through the snowy plains for months trying to crack this case! It was only thanks to your aid, fair Lord, that nothing further went awry..."

"Nothing went awry, you say!? You've all been deceived, you nitwits, you numbskulls!" The Grand Duke — the real one, this time — hurled his porcelain teacup to the ground, unable to contain his rage, roaring like thunder. "That wasn't me! That was that thrice-be-damned master thief, Reed Miller! He disguised himself as me and assumed my name so he could waltz into Shuisky's manor and take that platinum piece, precious beyond price, like one would fish for Mora in one's pocket! Shuisky had you dancing in the palm of his hand, and now Reed Miller's pulled the wool over your eyes... and you call yourselves detectives!?"

"But... But..." Chief Duleyev sweated furiously, unable to speak through the stutters, "Please, My Lord, please calm yourself... That man had your seal..."

"Fool! If some trifling gentry like Shuisky could fashion a platinum piece real enough to fool the eye, do you not think Reed Miller could forge my seal!?" Grand Duke Brahe Trubetskoy cried, incensed. Before, he had already been played all too often by Miller's beautiful female companion, one who named herself "Wagtail." Even the very mention of Miller's name was enough to give him a headache. He was now realizing that he was once again about to be the laughingstock of Snezhnaya. "What the hell are you waiting for? For the Fire-Water to drown your brains? Get out, and get my piece back, damn you all!"

A Statement From Ms. Anna Petrova

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Mrs. Anna Petrova's Solemn Declaration
I, Anna Petrova, hereby give notice that, as of this day, I have formally separated from Mr. Mikhail Petrov, and no longer acknowledge him as my lawful husband.
Mr. Petrov, having placed his full faith in the so-called Society for the Advancement of Traditional Snezhnayan Medicine's absurd study denouncing hot baths, has refused all forms of bathing for the past three months and has instead limited himself to merely wiping himself down with a towel. His present condition, and the foul stench resembling that of a swamp which now surrounds him, have become utterly intolerable.
For the sake of my personal health and safety, I have since left Mr. Petrov's place of residence, and I accept no responsibility for his actions henceforth.

A Triumph for Security in the Capital! "Wandering Samurai" Who Terrorized Citizens for Weeks Brought to Justice!

Snezhnaya Vestnik

A Triumph for Security in the Capital! "Wandering Samurai" Who Terrorized Citizens for Weeks Brought to Justice!
Exclusive Report: The shadow over Snezhnograd has finally lifted. The Inazuman "Wandering Samurai," whose violent rampage kept the capital in fear for weeks, was captured in a pre-dawn operation yesterday.
For weeks, a masked Kairagi had been striking late at night across Snezhnograd's Downtown District and along secluded paths beyond Glupov, leaving the city increasingly fearful as the number of victims grew. Eyewitnesses described him as wearing battered crimson armor and a bizarre mask. Combined with his uncanny swordsmanship, his frightening appearance was reportedly enough to make several victims drop their belongings and flee before he could say a word.
Following a coordinated investigation led by the Criminal Investigation Division and Druzhna patrol units under the personal supervision of Snezhnograd's Police Chief, the culprit was successfully apprehended late last night. The investigation proceeded without interruption, with officers working day and night until the suspect was located inside an abandoned bakery in the Downtown District. When the fully armed culprit attempted to leave the premises to commit another crime, the patrol teams stationed nearby immediately took action and subdued him!
Investigations reveal that the criminal was a licensed merchant from Ritou in Inazuma. Due to an irreconcilable conflict of interest between the mercantile association and the Kanjou Commission in charge of the area at the time, said association was rendered bankrupt two years ago. Unwilling to revert to being a common citizen, the criminal, backed into a corner, stole crimson armor and a sacred blade that had been offered to a local shrine, then fled the country. First, the criminal fled to the border region of Nod-Krai and engaged in rank charlatanry by assuming the status of an Inazuman Samurai. After being exposed by the Curatorium of Secrets, he then sneaked into Her Majesty's sacred capital, Snezhnograd, planning to continue his deceptions. However, after discovering that he could plunder at will by relying on his terrifying attire, the offender repeatedly employed the same tactic. He was eventually apprehended by law enforcement after inciting city-wide panic.
As the criminal is a fugitive, the Inazuman authorities have refused to recognize his expatriate status. As such, he now awaits judgment under Snezhnayan law. For further updates on how this case shall progress, please keep an eye out for the latest news.

Tales of the Strange and Incredible (Contributor Story)

A Duke's Confession

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Tales of the Strange and Incredible: A Duke's Confession (Contributor Story)
To all who read these words, I am Duke Trokhin. My beloved kin, my graceful and cherished wife, my countless servants... all were claimed by the flames. I alone remain, condemned to endure this wretched existence and to record the sins of the one who brought this tragedy upon us.

"Let all who harbor dissent be seized from wherever they conceal themselves. Let each be examined and judged, and let those deemed guilty be removed by whatever means are deemed necessary. Thus is this order given."

Sorin the arsonist carried out the oppressor's command, bringing my family to ruin through the cruelest of means. Their cries rose as the flames consumed them. The fire itself answered with a dreadful melody, while their twisted, blackened forms became a final dance of agony. That vision returned me to the memory of our last gathering...

How I long for that night... While our oppressor slept beneath the cover of darkness, we gathered beneath the same sky and lit the lamps of celebration. We danced... we sang... paying no heed to the bodies oppression had left hardened and unmoving...

And then... the exile came. We were punished for the joy we dared to show, for the dances we shared, for the obedience we abandoned, for the knees we refused to bend. Within that splendid prison, we found solace in one another. We shared our hatred and stood united beneath the shadow of oppression. Yet when we reached the land of exile and the rains began to fall, we became the instruments of our own undoing. We turned against one another, and that became the fire that truly consumed us. Some even came to yearn for the oppressor — for the small sweetness he had once bestowed.

It was only when the flames touched my own body that I finally understood I was about to be consumed by the fire. But why? What terrible offense had I committed? Was it because I no longer wished to bow my poor spine and continue serving as a gentle support for those who sat so proudly above me?

Well... now I stand alone. With no one left beside me, another dance of rebellion is no longer possible. I am only a poor, lonely duke. What else can I do? All that remains is the rest of my life, and I shall spend it remembering the night when we danced together.

Horror in the Hills

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Tales of the Strange and Incredible: Horror in the Hills (Contributor Story)
Whether man or fae, people today instinctively cling to the belief that the world operates on a set of benevolent — or at the least, intelligible — rules. Yet, because our minds and intellects are but products of this world, from the perspective of logic and mathematics we can never truly apprehend the world's reality in full.

For us, this may well be the greatest mercy the world bestows. Once, I had a glimpse (may Her Majesty preserve my soul) of things so profane and abhorrent, no human should ever comprehend them. Words fail to capture what I witnessed, and no known language can articulate that primordial, maddening horror. I once swore that as long as I lived, I would never speak of what A. G. Pamiyev and I endured. I kept my silence, for people would have deemed me insane otherwise. Yet Mr. Pamiyev is now dead, and I shall soon follow him into the dark. Thus, I am compelled to publish the report that was withheld back then, if only to rest in peace in the thereafter. Should death erase my memories entirely, it will be a true blessing.

The report is as follows:

Horror in the Hills? Newlyweds Meet Mysterious End in Svetloledovka

The Royal Railway Transport Bureau of Snezhnaya recently uncovered the bodies of two young persons, who had been missing for days, just outside the estate of Viscount A. Pamiyev.

Reports confirm the pair were a newlywed couple (names withheld by request) who had ventured into the mountains for their honeymoon, only to meet a tragic end on territory held for generations by Snegovik nobility. Even veteran officers long accustomed to seeing the dead were left shaken to their core by the sheer horror of the scene.

In an interview, Viscount Pamiyev pointed to three major mysteries about the case that remain completely unresolved:

First: Footprints in the snow indicate a desperate flight for survival in the couple's final moments. Not only had their tent been shredded from the inside, they had also cast aside their heavy winter boots for some reason. With massive strides, they had sprinted wildly through the deep snow, as if fleeing some unimaginable terror. Yet across the vast, empty expanse, no other tracks existed besides their own frantic, bare footprints.

Second: In stark contrast to the various signs of a frenetic final flight, the deceased bore no trace of agony or terror on their faces. Instead, their features were frozen in a state of what can only be called profound peace, complete with smiles of unsettling, almost eerie satisfaction.

Third: Among the victims' belongings, police recovered a Kamera containing just one photograph, heavily blurred and flooded with an eerie halo of light.

Watch this space for further developments on this chilling case.

...

That was all to that account. The writer had omitted the obscure, nearly forgotten stories surrounding the Pamiyev bloodline. One chronicle, allegedly compiled during the 53rd fae era, claimed that the Pamiyevs were "cursed by a god]," though the deity in question was certainly not the Tsar Monomakh. Most of these rumors were chilling, cryptic tales suggesting that a sinister, profane cult operated within the family. These tales were so horrifying, they made the infamous nobles of Fontaine and Mondstadt seem as pure as ascetics by comparison.

I first met Andrei Grigorovich Pamiyev five years ago. Back then, I too believed these stories were nothing more than crude superstitions...

(Want to read more? Visit Torchlight Books to purchase and read the full story!)

(Disclaimer: This column contains elements of fiction, and the paper assumes no liability for the factual accuracy of these accounts or any consequences arising from their dissemination. Reader discretion is advised.)

Trivia

The details of this story reference the Dyatlov Pass incident.

Tales of the Strange From Okurov

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Tales of the Strange and Incredible: Tales of the Strange From Okurov
As everyone knows, a caterpillar spins a cocoon within a leaf and transforms into an ominous moth; the spawn of a frog lies in the muck, eventually sprouting legs to become a leaping, swimming frog. Ancient fae legends even held that when a person died, was buried, and rotted away, their spine would transform into a snake.

The way life begins is always different from how it ends. There is but one bird that proves the exception to that rule.

In the depths of a beautiful valley lives a lovely Firebird, so lovely that none who look upon it can tear their eyes away. Its wings, when spread, are so large they can blot out the sky; its eyes gleam like gemstones, while its feathers dazzle like gold. All who behold it cannot help but follow it deep into the valley, becoming to it beloved nourishment.

Of course, the Firebird does not feast on foul-smelling flesh, but rather upon memories.

The vast palace of Memory is the dwelling place of the soul. Without memory, a person ceases to be human. Once the Firebird devours their memories, they lose their senses, emotions, and speech, regressing into insensate trees that cluster around the valley town, shielding it from outside eyes. And the Firebird needs only wait — to wait for the next curious visitor to draw near.

Of course, time leaves the marks of age upon the Firebird, and sharp blades inflict their wounds. Death is never far from this beautiful creature, yet the promise of new life always favors it. When the breeze blows, its spent shell warms in the sunlight, and the flames of life ignite its magnificent plumage. It beats its wings amidst the searing inferno, while the falling ash nourishes the growth of fresh flesh and blood. Ultimately, the Firebird dons its resplendent attire once more, circling above Okurov, gazing quietly down at every passerby captivated by its beauty.

(Therefore, this writer sincerely recommends that all readers cherish their lives and stay away from Okurov. After all, unlike the Firebird, we only have one life to live!)

The Jack Frost Witch

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Tales of the Strange and Incredible: The Jack Frost Witch (Contributor Story)
Contributor: Shagova (pseudonym)

I'm Shagova, an adventurer. A few days ago, I accepted a commission and set out for one of the most dangerous snowfields on the outskirts of Snezhnaya. (And yes, I went alone. Before you ask why I would venture into such a perilous place without anyone by my side, the answer is simple: I wanted the entire reward for myself! Besides, I'm a highly capable adventurer!)

Unfortunately, all my preparations proved useless when a sudden blizzard swept in and left me hopelessly lost in the snowfield. The cold was unbearable, and before long, I felt as though I might freeze to death. With no other options left, I remembered a story my grandmother had told me long ago:

"Child, listen carefully... If you ever find yourself lost in a vast, endless snowfield, recite that ancient incantation, and the Jack Frost Witch will appear from the depths of the storm. But remember, only when you are trapped in the darkest and most hopeless of situations may you call upon her name..."

It took me quite some time, but eventually, I managed to dig the incantation out from the depths of my childhood memories: "Haskratol-rabkadisumavits-kuporomgozinadek." (And believe me, I know how it sounds, but I wasn't simply making those words up! I have my own brain to thank for remembering such a tremendous amount of completely useless information!)

As it turned out, my grandmother's story was true after all. The Jack Frost Witch appeared before me, soaring through the storm on her broom, with a group of round and plump Jack Frosts trailing behind her. She rescued me from the snowfield and brought me back to her courtyard. Yet my troubles were far from over. The witch told me that she would send me home if I fulfilled her wish. But if I failed, she would turn me into flower fertilizer.

So, what exactly did the Jack Frost Witch want from me? A choir. More specifically, a Jack Frost choir. The problem was that the Jack Frosts had absolutely no interest in cooperating, and every attempt at singing together ended in complete chaos. Yet somehow, I was expected to turn them into a well-trained choir capable of singing together perfectly by the following morning.

Don't ask me how I managed it. All I can say is that I'm very grateful I wasn't turned into flower fertilizer.
(Unfortunately, despite making it deep into the snowfield, I still failed to complete my client's commission. My reward... gone...)

Still, I wanted to share this spell for summoning the Jack Frosts with everyone. Perhaps it may save your life someday!

"Haskratol-rabkadisumavits-kuporomgozinadek!"

Though, I should warn you, it may also result in you becoming flower fertilizer. On the bright side, you might just be lucky enough to hear a well-trained Jack Frost choir perform a beautiful harmony together!

The Headless Train Attendant in the Snow

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Tales of the Strange and Incredible: The Headless Train Attendant in the Snow (Contributor Story)
Contributor: Mr. Mamontov

This is a story told to me by way of a friend of a friend.

Andrei had never in his wildest dreams imagined that he should one day be reduced to such a state: penniless, and tending the locomotive's firebox for no other reason than to scratch out a living and repay his debt to the gang, one small installment at a time. Once, he had a respectable business in Novokitezhgrad. But by this point, his shop had been seized, his fiancée had, quite naturally, released him from their engagement, and even his own family had refused him assistance, turning him out of their home.

The source of all his misfortunes lay in a certain game he should have never even dipped his toes in. At first, he genuinely believed that fortune had smiled upon him, and that the card table would fill his purse beyond measure. Little did he understand that winning is always fleeting, while loss is the one true constant.
His last hopes had lain with an old friend of his, Zharanov, who had whispered of a secret hidden somewhere in Nod-Krai — a secret, he claimed, that would be more than enough to clear the debts they both owed, if only Andrei would see fit to invest in the venture and finally take it off the ground. But when Zharanov left and never returned, and nothing more was heard of him, Andrei's last hope vanished as well.
The wages of a locomotive stoker would certainly have never interested him before. But now, they were all he had. At such a rate, when would he ever repay his debt and see daylight again? Maybe it was better that he kept the money and tried his luck once more at the card table with it. Better that than throw the cash to the gang, and into a bottomless pit... Surely the gang would not do anything too drastic over a few missed payments. Yet whenever the thought came to mind, the memory of losing everything would make him shrink back. And so the days wore on, consumed by hesitation and torment, and punctuated only by the sounds of the train whistle.

Then, one night, as the train labored through a raging blizzard, its headlights carving a narrow path through the darkness and driving snow, something appeared without warning in that narrow corridor of light. It was a ragged man, carrying a lantern, staggering alongside the tracks like a ghost.
It was a day so awfully cold, one could hardly breathe. No ordinary person apart from the fae could have endured more than half an hour in such weather. Moved by instinctive pity, Andrei was about to ask the conductor to slow the train when he found the latter staring out the window, his face drained of all color. Following his gaze, Andrei saw what he had not noticed before: the figure struggling through the snow had nothing upon its shoulders. Where its head should have been, there only burned a cold, unnatural flame.
The train chugged on, with no sign of slowing. As though fearful of disturbing the headless wanderer, it gave no whistle, but merely passed him by, leaving that solitary flame behind in the boundless night.

It was only after they had passed that shocking sight that the conductor, still shaken, began to tell him an old story long since forgotten...
It was a story about a man named Old Kashchin who used to work on the line. He was not a bad sort, apart from the fact that he was an inveterate drunkard and had no sense for money. Everyone knew he owed the gang a debt he would never repay, but he never seemed troubled by it. As long as they still expected him to work it off, they could hardly kill him... or so he reckoned. And in the end, everyone left him be.
Then came the night the train ran through this desolate section of track. A passenger reported strange noises from the roof, suspecting damage left behind by Vila raiders. Old Kashchin's supervisor sent Kashchin up for a check despite the latter's misgivings.

No one ever learned what he saw up there. All anyone heard was a heavy thud from the roof, and then Old Kashchin's head, his face still frozen in surprise, rolled past the car windows and into the snow, where the darkness and the blizzard swallowed it swiftly.
It was no ordinary attack, but an execution. Two men from the gang had run a line, fine as a thread yet impossibly strong, across the track, and when Old Kashchin climbed onto the roof, it took his head clean off.

"This is what he owed the Izmaylovs,"
Said the two bandits who rapped on the train window, then flew away.

From that day on, Old Kashchin became a prisoner of the line, finding no rest and condemned to wander out in the snow with his battered lantern. He was doomed to forever search for the debt he could never repay... and for the head he had lost.

Through Stars and Nightmares — Mr. Feodor's Time-Space-Defying Journey

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Tales of the Strange and Incredible: Through Stars and Nightmares — Mr. Feodor's Time-Space-Defying Journey (Contributor Story)
Word has reached us regarding a certain Mr. Feodor, a naturalist currently under retainer with the Adventurers' Guild. Though remarkably quiet and rather hopeless at small talk, he enjoys high esteem among his peers for his vast erudition and razor-sharp intellect. Even the Guild's most seasoned adventurers routinely find themselves humbled by his seemingly endless store of knowledge.
Yet, as only his dear wife knows, this seemingly omniscient expert was a jobless, heavy-drinking, middle-aged mess a mere five years ago. Quite what caused such a dramatic overnight transformation remains a total mystery to her, but she is utterly thrilled all the same, if only because it spares her from worrying herself sick day in and day out!
Then, on a summer day this past year, Mr. Feodor collapsed mid-lecture right in front of his eager adventurer pupils. Upon waking, he could no longer answer a single scholarly question and even claimed to have no recollection whatsoever of ever being a naturalist.
According to him, he had just spent five years trapped in an interminable nightmare. He claimed that a race of star-faring beings known as the "Chroniclers" had whisked his soul away to countless strange worlds, then eventually dropped him off in a Teyvat ruled by reptiles and lizards. It was only then that he realized he had landed in a primordial age unrecorded by history. Then, prompted by these strange folk, he duly jotted down a full five-year chronicle of his wild travels, then left the manuscript behind in a castle of lizards.
Shortly after, poor Mr. Feodor was packed off to a sanitarium for treatment. The good doctors there insisted he was merely suffering from a nervous affliction, and in time, the gentleman came around to their view, convincing himself that the entire affair was nothing more than a bad dream.
Yet just last month, a top-secret letter arrived from a band of adventurers who had once studied under Mr. Feodor. Deep within a ruin in Natlan, these daring fellows actually dug up the ancient manuscript he had once insisted he had authored... written, just as he described, from stone tablets of a peculiar kind.
And so our strange little tale draws to a close here. While Mr. Feodor's nightmare may never truly end, it leaves us with a far more chilling question: as you lay down in bed tonight, can you be entirely certain that the person sleeping beside you is still the very soul you remember?

Snowland Sensations (Contributor Story)

Ode to the Snowy Plains

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Snowland Sensations: Ode to the Snowy Plains (Contributor Story)
(Editor's Note: This poem is a gift from Griboyedov of the Snezhnograd Writers' Guild to the Transport Bureau.)

You stretch out along the railway's path,
The white birches grow in your arms,
Oh, snow plains, you appear, so vast—
Endless, towards the horizon you surge!

The morning light shines brightly upon you, golden;
The moonlight by night keeps vigil over you, then falls into your embrace.
O snowy plains, our mother!
You envelop Snezhnaya's hills, you make our rivers flow.

This grace you bestow infinitely upon life,
Iron ore and sweet beets alike you give, fuel that grows upon you.
How shall we repay you? How your gentle generosity moves me!
Like a puny Kristall Bug, I prostrate before you in piety.

The Myth of Al-Ahmar, the False King

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Snowland Sensations: The Myth of Al-Ahmar, the False King (Contributor Story)
New Teyvat Chronicles: Sumeru (III)
The Fiction That is the "History of the Desert": We Begin With Al-Ahmar

In earlier installments of this serial, we have put forward a startling premise: Decarabian, Al-Ahmar, Remus, and Och-Kan — these so-called rulers were never real historical figures at all. Rather, they are merely regional variations of a single, shared historical prototype: Tsar Monomakh.

With just a bit of digging, it becomes glaringly obvious that these fictitious rulers all share the same telltale characteristics:

First, they were all branded by later historians as "tyrants" (because they refuse to admit that Tsar Monomakh once conquered and ruled the entire world);

Second, no physical remains are in evidence (because Tsar Monomakh lies at rest at Pale Crown Palace, a fact they simply cannot alter);

And third, the so-called "historical ruins" associated with them are all later fabrications (all because their own civilized history is so brief, forcing them to invent a fake past).

Take, for instance, the history of the Sumeru desert so blindly trusted by mainstream academia: it is riddled with glaring holes that fail to hold up under scrutiny:

First of all, what did they eat?

As we all know, the Deserts of Sumeru are, quite literally, deserts. Forget thousands of years ago; even today, a desert could never sustain such a vast population. So how could anyone have possibly built the magnificent Mausoleum of King Deshret?

Second: How was The Mausoleum of King Deshret maintained through the ages?

Granted, while the author has never visited Sumeru in person, the desert region conspicuously lacks any trace of large-scale quarries. Furthermore, no known form of transport could have ever moved such immense quantities of stone over such vast distances.

This is where the truth practically leaps off the page: the so-called "Mausoleum of King Deshret" was in fact built by Tsar Monomakh himself, and the name we know of today simply came from a mispronunciation by later desert dwellers. First, they inverted "mono" and "makh" into "Makh-mono." Then, due to oral transmission, they weakened the initial consonant (a common enough occurrence across languages), and the name underwent a slight vowel shift into "Akh-mana," and ultimately corrupted it into today's "Al-Ahmar."

While in Nod-Krai, the author had the good fortune of meeting a young lady from the Sumeru desert, who sold me a set of amulets reputedly forged by Al-Ahmar himself. Upon closer inspection, it was discovered that these very amulets were inscribed in Fontainian script with the words "For use at the Fontinalia Film Festival." Naturally, a lady of such beauty and elegance would never lie. This leaves us with only one possible conclusion: the entire history of Sumeru was, in fact, fabricated by Fontaine!

Furthermore, the lady offered another piece of crucial supporting evidence: she revealed that her people all refer to Al-Ahmar as the "God of Love." But as we all know, in that era, only one figure was ever hailed as the God of Benevolence: Tsar Monomakh himself...

...

The Theory of Historical Echoes

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Snowland Sensations: The Theory of Historical Echoes (Contributor Story)
New Teyvat Chronicles: Snezhnaya (V)
Historical Echoes — Fiction or Science?

In a previous installment, I posited that there are striking similarities between the pseudo-histories mainstream historians firmly believe in and the authentic historical records of Snezhnaya — similarities so profound that they can no longer be explained merely by cultural contact or the transmission of legends.

I want to begin by summarizing this phenomenon as "Historical Echoes": That is to say, documentary records that appear to come from different regions and eras, but which in fact are the same history, albeit repeatedly rewritten from different perspectives — with this hidden history being the chronicle of Emperor Monomakh's conquest.

During Emperor Monomakh's reign, most of Teyvat's regions were, in reality, under the rule of the same Tsardom.

Having read the Adventurers' Guild's reports, all nations today play host to ancient ruins that possess a relatively unified architectural style — that is, similar to that of ruins we have found in Snezhnaya. This is an incontrovertible fact. And this unified civilization, most evidently, was the realm of Emperor Monomakh.

...

Grand Exhibition of Prime Ice Sculptures to Be Held in Snezhnograd

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Grand Exhibition of Prime Ice Sculptures to Be Held in Snezhnograd
A grand exhibition of Prime Ice sculpture art will soon open in Snezhnograd. Organized with the Snezhnograd Veche's continued dedication to enriching the cultural lives of the people and guided by its careful deliberation, the event will feature the special exhibition "Classics, Redux: The Glaciafruit Master Returns (A Special Homage Exhibition)." Jointly arranged by the Veche and the Prime Ice Art Alliance, the exhibition offers citizens and all admirers of Snezhnayan culture an opportunity to witness the artistry of a master and gain a deeper understanding of the nation's cultural traditions.

More than a rare artistic occasion — one that comes only once in a decade — the exhibition also marks an important milestone in bringing Prime Ice art closer to the people. According to Ms. Kustodiev, Acting Chairwoman of the Prime Ice Art Alliance, the history of this art form has long been defined by its immense cost: "For many years, the creation of Prime Ice sculptures remained an art reserved exclusively for the court. During the era of the Pale Star Court, a poem recorded the reality of those times: 'To the halls of nobles were delivered countless Prime Ice sculptures; yet the miners of Zolnyy could not claim even a bowl of red beet soup.' Those words remain a true reflection of history."

Ms. Kustodiev further remarked: "The arts of Snezhnaya have undergone a profound transformation since Her Majesty the Tsaritsa ascended the throne. What was once the privilege of the aristocracy alone is now shared among the people. Prime Ice sculpture, however, remains a special case. Its unique nature makes it difficult for such works to enter every household. The Veche's decision to hold this exhibition reflects its commitment to Her Majesty's benevolent ideals, as well as its care for the people of Snezhnaya and its equal regard for all."
The Snezhnograd Veche likewise emphasized that an exhibition rich in historical and cultural significance can unite the people and inspire their devotion to Snezhnaya's glory. Thus, even amid these days of fierce winds and heavy snowfall, the decision to hold such an exhibition is considered both worthwhile and necessary.

While the Veche has yet to announce the exhibition's exact date, preparations are already underway. This newspaper has learned that commissions for the exhibition's artworks have been sent to Svetloledovka, where local Prime Ice designers have begun their work. Among them is Malevich, a designer from the town, who told our reporter that he was immensely proud to have been chosen. For him, the significance of this opportunity lies not in any special distinction, but in the fact that he is one of the countless ordinary people of Snezhnaya.

Healthguards, Guard Your Health!

Healthguards, Guard Your Health! (I)

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Healthguards, Guard Your Health!
Want to live longer after 40? Start with one simple habit: walking!

The eminent medical expert, Prof. Lobanov, has made a startling discovery that once humans or even fae pass the age of forty, the life essence within their bodies gradually begins to fade. He believes this decline in vitality is the very reason why various ailments begin to appear.

Fortunately, the body itself possesses a secret weapon against the effects of aging.

After all, have you ever stopped to wonder why those who have lived the longest are, without exception, the elderly?

The reason is surprisingly straightforward. They have walked more roads throughout their lives. Therefore, by keeping your legs in motion each day, you too can move closer toward longevity. Even one hour of walking brings you a full sixty minutes closer to a longer life!

Follow Healthguard for more daily health tips!

Healthguards, Guard Your Health! (II)

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Healthguards, Guard Your Health!
This one health tip will keep the doctors far away!

The eminent medical expert, Prof. Lobanov, has pointed out that long-term consumption of carbonated beverages (known as soda water), a defining example of which is Fonta, has harmful health effects.

However, if the air is expelled, all that is left to drink is water, which is healthy indeed.

Follow Healthguard for more daily health tips!

Hero at the Helm — or a Shocking Secret? Exclusive Train Derailment Investigation!

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Hero at the Helm — or a Shocking Secret? Exclusive Train Derailment Investigation!
Freight train I-330 recently derailed while traveling from Snezhnograd to Novokitezhgrad. Despite the accident, no casualties were reported.

According to initial reports, the conductor on duty — identified here by the pseudonym Mr. Turkin — resorted to a series of unusually aggressive emergency measures. His actions ultimately enabled all passengers and crew to escape unharmed. What was initially hailed, and widely followed, as an "emergency rescue," however, has since come under closer scrutiny. With preliminary investigative procedures now underway, specific aspects of the operation are being formally reviewed, and questions have been raised over accountability for some of the measures taken.

The preliminary accident report focuses on a split-second decision that ran counter to standard safety protocol. Mr. Turkin claimed that, on the day of the incident, he saw a landslide suddenly develop directly in the train's path. Believing that conventional emergency braking could not bring the train to a halt within the remaining distance, he instead chose to break up the consist. The fully loaded freight cars at the rear were forcibly uncoupled and left behind. With only the locomotive and personnel carriages remaining, Mr. Turkin accelerated through the landslide zone.

The personnel carriages ultimately cleared the affected area, with only minor abrasions reported among some passengers. The abandoned freight cars, however, were completely buried, along with the substantial volume of state supplies they had been carrying. The full extent of the resulting property loss remains difficult to determine.

The Railway Transport Bureau has since opened a formal post-incident review and accountability process. At the center of the inquiry is evidence that may call Mr. Turkin's account into question. A technical specialist involved in the preliminary assessment, speaking to this newspaper on condition of anonymity, said the line's warning systems had issued the hazard alert in advance and in accordance with established procedure. "Under the standard emergency response plan, the conductor should have applied the emergency brakes the moment the alert was received," the specialist said. "Uncoupling and abandoning the freight cars without authorization was a serious violation, as was accelerating through the disaster zone with the personnel carriages in tow. Both actions breached the Standard Operating Procedures for Rail Transport Safety."

The accident commission's final report must now determine whether Mr. Turkin's actions constituted a justified response to an extreme emergency — or a serious overreaction arising from a flawed assessment of the danger. It must also establish whether the valuable supplies left behind were truly beyond saving. Until those findings are released, the line between heroism and misconduct remains unresolved. This newspaper will continue to follow the investigation.

Joyful Insurance, for a Joyful You

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Joyful Insurance, for a Joyful You
What ails us most on life's long journey is not the sudden, massive blizzard, but the minor spells of "bad weather" that hinder our progress. A train delayed at a critical juncture, for instance, or a Prime Ice tool melting when it is needed — if left unheeded, even the most inconspicuous setback can escalate into a major emotional catastrophe.
That's where Snezhnajoy Insurance comes into the picture. Every seemingly insignificant "spell of bad weather" in your life is our concern, and we offer you such safe harbors on this voyage:
Train Delay Accident Insurance: If your train is delayed due to human-related factors, we will provide a payout equal to 10 times the ticket price.
Prime Ice Melt Risk Insurance: If your Prime Ice tool should melt within Snezhnaya's vast borders, you will receive a maximum payout of 200,000 Mora.
Audience Trauma Insurance: If you take psychological damage from viewing a theater production, you can be reimbursed for your ticket costs following certification.
For more policy categories, you can consult Snezhnajoy Insurance. We provide speedy, reliable, and responsible payouts, all at your service.

Millennia-Old Ancient Wisdom for Our Times!

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Millennia-Old Ancient Wisdom for Our Times!
The latest research is in: Taking hot baths is bad for your health!
According to a recent study by the Society for the Advancement of Traditional Snezhnayan Medicine, the people of Snezhnaya did not take hot baths before Kresnik's Torch came into use. This is also why our forebears lived such long lives as recorded in our histories.
The authors of the study note that hot baths raise body temperature. As a result, the pores of the skin open, allowing harmful substances in the air that cause various ailments to enter the body. At the same time, hot baths also damage the skin's natural protective layer of microorganisms, thereby weakening immunity.
The Society for the Advancement of Traditional Snezhnayan Medicine hereby urges all readers to stop partaking in these harmful baths. Remember, good health is for both you and me!

Now Hiring: Private Security Guards — Generous Pay!

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Hiring Private Guard for Top Pay
HIRING URGENTLY! TOP PAY!

I, Grand Duke Diomid Turzov, seek to employ private guards and am prepared to offer generous compensation to suitable candidates.
(The sentence above was the best my servant could write. I fired him as soon as he finished it. He had no culture, no sense, and was very, very stupid. So I'm writing the rest myself. Everything below was written by me, Grand Duke Turzov, your favorite Grand Duke.)

I built a fountain. It is enormous. Without question, it is the most beautiful fountain in all of Snezhnaya. Maybe even the most beautiful in all of Teyvat. Better than the Fountain of Lucine. Much better. Everyone's talking about it. Then some horrible Tidalga got into the fountain. From Fontaine! They made the water look ugly. Total disaster. Very sad. But I fixed it. I did what no one else was brave enough to do! I drained the fountain and painted the bottom with beautiful, bright paint. After that, it looked incredible. So incredible!

Then the idiots on the Snezhnograd Veche ruined everything. There is something very wrong with their brains, by the way. They knew the paint would feed the Tidalga, but did they tell me? No. Of course not. Soon there were more Tidalga than ever! Total disaster! But I fixed that too. I always do. I poured a huge amount of bleach into the fountain, and it became clean again. I won. A historic victory, like no one's ever seen!

But the thugs from the Rokot are still not giving up. They want to destroy everything. My big, beautiful paint has started peeling. My servants say the bleach caused it, but that is obviously fake news. Totally fake. The truth is simple! Those losers are sneaking into the manor at night and tearing the paint off with their filthy hands! Embarrassing. So embarrassing!

These paint-scraping lunatics will be found, and we're gonna lock them up! To make sure of that, I am going to spend a great, super great deal of money hiring the biggest, toughest, strongest warriors money can buy. A very, very great deal of money. Thank you for your attention to this matter.

Trivia

The details and language used in the ad satirize the U.S. politican Donald Trump and his botched resurfacing of the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool in April 2026.

Party of the Bold! Snezhnayan Business Partners Wanted for New Hit Beverage, Frosta!

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Party of the Bold! Snezhnayan Business Partners Wanted for New Hit Beverage, Frosta!
Tired of seeing everyone else make a fortune? Frosta, the game-changing powerhouse taking the beverage industry by storm, is officially launching its inaugural partner drive across Snezhnaya!

Three solid reasons to partner with us:
Number One: Unrivaled brand potential!
Frosta is the latest upgrade to Teyvat's drink sensation, Fonta, formulated to be Snezhnaya's next must-have refreshment! With Frosta, you will feel the ice-cold rush of pure refreshment with every sip!

Number Two: Backed by top industry pros!
The Frosta R&D team, led by the chief scientist behind Fonta, is one you can absolutely put your trust in!

Number Three: A partnership that is truly equal in every way!
You keep 100% of the profits — we take zero cut! To help our new entrepreneurs get started on the path to abundance and success, we're charging only the baseline costs for our patented equipment and secret ingredients.

Exclusive Limited-Time Offer: Sign up with us on the spot to get 70% off, and get the entire franchise package for just 10 million Mora! Only 10 spots are available on a first-come, first-served basis. Miss out today, and you miss a once-in-a-lifetime chance to secure your family's fortune!

To learn more, please contact: Shcherbatov (please remember to bring sufficient cash to the face-to-face discussion!)

Secret History Uncovered? Local Man Finds New Fae Race by Accident!

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Secret History Uncovered? Local Man Finds New Fae Race by Accident!
A 30-page petition was recently submitted to the Snezhnograd Veche by Popolov (pseudonym), a destitute, long unemployed 40-year-old resident of Snezhnograd's Downtown District. In this petition, which was submitted out of the blue, the man claims that according to a tattered family tree he found in his grandfather's attic, he is no mere commoner as listed in municipal registry records, but rather, the descendant of a long-lost line of fae nobility.
Subsequent investigation revealed that Popolov, who previously served with the Fatui Skirmishers, was stationed at an outpost deep in the Sumeru rainforest. Then, during a routine march, he mysteriously vanished. Though he was eventually located and rescued by his squadmates, but he was then forcibly discharged by command shortly after for suspected mental instability. Upon returning to Snezhnograd, the former soldier secluded himself in his late grandfather's attic, subsisting entirely on his Fatui pension.
When a reporter from this paper stepped into the attic — a space heavy with the smell of fire-water and pickled cabbage — they found Mr. Popolov draped in a "nobleman's robe" fashioned from old curtains, seated regally atop a "throne" cobbled together from discarded clutter.
Mr. Popolov claims to belongs to a fae race known as the "Krepysh." While no surviving records of such a group have been found, his newly unearthed family tree indicates that his lineage is ancient, second in age only to His Majesty the Belyi Tsar. Although Mr. Popolov displays zero physical hallmarks of fae blood, his unusually massive physique does lends the claim a certain credibility. The document further suggests that the Belyi Tsar once elevated his ancestors to princely ranks, bestowing upon the clan the entire territory where Glupov stands today.
Mr. Popolov has reportedly filed a formal petition with the Veche, demanding the restoration of his lawful seat on the council under the ancient rights list in his family tree, and that years of accumulated back taxes e written off. Local residents informed our reporter that the aspiring noble also appears ready to peddle self-issued warrants to his neighbors and mint currency for his sovereign territory.
The Veche has yet to issue a response to the petition as of press time. Watch this space for exclusive updates as this story continues to unfold!

Tartuffe's Snezhnayan Travelogue

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Tartuffe's Snezhnayan Travelogue
(Editor's Note: This is a Snezhnayan travelogue written 138 years ago by the Fontainian author Tartuffe. It was later confirmed that this author never once left Fontaine.)
(Another Note: To prevent the reader from being affected by any misunderstandings due to the factually-incorrect content of the original text, the editor has marked out parts of the text that do not conform to Snezhnayan realities, or that might be easily misunderstood.)
...Our great continent hosts a realm favored by ice and snow. Once, it captivated the imaginations of many adventurers, yet the fear of the cold kept them at arm's length along the border. Consequently, the land became a vast, nebulous symbol, so much so that historians began to doubt its very existence. I, too, once gazed upon it from afar, or circled its periphery, until at last I conquered my fear of the unknown. And so I came to behold it. Through the train window, there it lay — Snezhnaya.
No one fears the extreme cold in Snezhnaya, for though the land is swept by endless blizzards, beneath it grow also combustible gems [1]. Humans are only one of the many forms of sentient life here. Even a hunting dog, a cat with its head held high, or even a large tree you happen to pass by might, out of the blue, speak in some ancient, elegant tongue[2].
The habit of drinking coffee is all but nonexistent in this land, for all things on earth can be brewed into fine wine. A certain noble invited me to try a local product known as "Kvass," which has some subtle similarity to Fonta. He told me that some princes of Snezhnograd once considered traveling to the Court of Fontaine, there to take up residence [3], but had dismissed the notion owing to the lack of Kvass in our lands.
...
[1] This should refer to Kristall.
[2] This is the author's one-sided imagination concerning the fae.
[3] This is complete nonsense.

Theft Denied, Murder Admitted? An Ongoing Investigation into the Missing "Star of the Snowfield"

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Theft Denied, Murder Admitted? An Ongoing Investigation into the Missing "Star of the Snowfield"
This paper reports:

The Snezhnaya Royal Railway Transport Bureau has announced the arrest of a suspect in the long-running investigation into the disappearance of the "Star of the Snowfield."

According to Officer Yudintsev, who conducted the interrogation, the suspect — identified here by the pseudonym V. Buyanov — entered the victim's residence in the early hours of the morning. He is alleged to have stolen the priceless jewel known as the "Star of the Snowfield" and murdered the victim, identified here by the pseudonym A. Valannikov.

During interrogation, Buyanov firmly denied stealing the jewel, but readily confessed to the killing.

"Yes, I killed Valannikov (pseudonym). He was a swindler and a loan shark. But I did not steal from him. That is not why I turned myself in. I came forward because I believed I had killed something greater than a man — though, apparently, I did not even manage the killing very well. What I killed was a principle. A principle! Do you understand? I confessed to the murder of my own free will, and yet you insist on accusing me of taking some ridiculous possession. You are a good man, but I will not accept that accusation."

Valannikov's (pseudonym) lady companion, however, rejected Buyanov's denial in heated terms:

"...If that murderer did not steal the 'Star of the Snowfield,' then who did? Never mind my poor Valannikov (pseudonym) for one moment — who else could possibly have taken it? In Her Majesty's name, send the man to the gallows at once! As for the jewel, simply record it as lost. There is no need to waste any more time searching for it... What I mean is, we should be thinking about Valannikov's (pseudonym) funeral, should we not? The murderer is already in custody. Compared with that, what importance could one or two missing jewels possibly have?"

Further updates will follow as the case develops.

Trivia

The pseudonyms are derived from the names of the characters in Polestar Ballet Anthology (III) — The Envoy.

Today's "On Ice"

What Manner of Performance is This?

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Today's "On Ice": What Manner of Performance is This?
I recently went to see "The Seabird," staged in Snezhnograd — the worst program I've seen in decades! In terms of its presentation, it is neither a serious saga capable of evoking a sublime sense of grief in the audience nor a farcical comedy that provokes uproarious laughter.
And what, pray tell, shall the audience find in "The Seabird"? The show might hide behind such fanciful phrases as "avant-garde" or "realism," but they are mere smokescreens for the writer's sore dearth of stage proficiency! A hero is the main character, a figure no story should lack. But there are no heroes in "The Seabird." Our protagonists are a cowardly man, and a failure of a woman. They lack any active aspect, being wholly obedient unto fate, as though they were in spirit minor roles, unable to spark an actor's passion for performance.
Additionally, "The Seabird" forsakes all twists and turns worthy of a great work. Tepid progression interspersed with long pauses — that is the structural characteristic of this play. None sacrifice themselves for a noble cause, nor is anyone redeemed. Consequently, this work leaves one with little to discuss, and its plot and themes can be summed up in a mere two sentences.
And ballet! Ballet, the crowning jewel of Snezhnaya, how "The Seabird" has forsaken your hallowed traditions, and for what? The awful excuse known as "avant-garde." Not once does it give us a touching story, only displaying its loose structure, frustrating side characters, and every insignificant fly and insect. Alas! That this work should see the light of day at all brings me great agony indeed.
(Contributor: Trigorin)

This is the Performance of an Era

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Today's "On Ice": This is the Performance of an Era
Previously, an article by Mr. Trigorin was published in this paper, criticizing the production of "The Seabird." This essay was quite the disappointment — for here we see how a critic's appreciation for deep art might be thwarted by his rigid, conventional views.
Mr. Trigorin's rejection of "The Seabird" on account of its mundanity and lack of heroes instead speaks to one reason why Snezhnayan ballet has failed to make any breakthroughs for many years. People demand only a few heart-stirring scenes, heaping praise only upon a handful of popular actors. Our so-called stagecraft amounts to nothing more than knowing the moments which shall elicit cheers from the audience and then stringing those scenes together into some convoluted tale.
Whether the onstage world is real and complete is not something that figures into the thought of figures in the art world, such as Mr. Trigorin. What "The Seabird" seeks is to shed the artificiality and shallowness of conventional ballet. The "long pauses" — dismissed with such disdain by Mr. Trigorin — that this work embraces constitute its most profound and powerful elements, for such pauses signify the tension, turbulence, and passivity of real life.
We cannot help but sympathize with these intellectuals, trapped as they are by ossified tradition. They deny all new approaches and new material by mere force of habit, even as they grind the courage to explore art into dust through shallow performance. "The Seabird" is a new thing, a thing that belongs to this era. The names of popular actors may be forgotten in times to come, but the truth of this time, which this work preserves, often proves immortal.
(Contributor: Tripolev)

Transport Bureau Releases Statement Regarding Unusual Disturbances Along Railway Line

Snezhnaya Vestik

Transport Bureau Releases Statement Regarding Unusual Disturbances Along Railway Line
Traces of a rare monster have recently been discovered along the tundra railway between Snezhnograd and Sretomorozsk. Every sign indicates that this creature has drifted in from the southern borderlands. Most distressing of all, a damaged lantern clutched in the fist of one Wild Hunt creature was found to have once belonged to a Lightkeeper. This brings tragic news indeed, leaving little doubt that a respectable Lightkeeper has met a fateful end.
Mercifully, the Transport Bureau has contacted the Lightkeeper forces stationed at Piramida, and the two have joined forces with decisive resolve for a total purge of the monsters prowling the tundra.
The Transport Bureau hereby appeals to all citizens: should any such unusual sights be spotted along the railway line, please stay calm and report the matter to the Bureau without delay. The relevant departments will act with all swiftness to eliminate the hazard to ensure that our fellow citizens can continue to travel safely.

Watch Out for Insurance Scams, Keep Your Mora Safe

Snezhnaya Vestik

Watch Out for Insurance Scams, Keep Your Mora Safe
"Solemn promises at purchase, but not a single Mora paid out during claims"? Rumors regarding Snezhnayan insurance traps have recently been circulating widely. Following an in-depth investigation, our reporters discovered that the cases in question all involve an entity named "Snezhnajoy Insurance."

Last year, a traveler from Mondstadt signed up for insurance with this company and bought "Prime Ice Construct Melt Insurance" for their Prime Ice fishing rod. The policy was as follows: If the insured item were to melt, the beneficiary would obtain up to 200,000 Mora. This traveler then returned to Mondstadt to fish, only for the rod to melt. The traveler went to seek recompense, only for the company to claim that this policy clearly stipulated that "the insured item must be proven to have melted within Snezhnayan borders," and as such, the traveler was not eligible for compensation.

This is not an isolated case. Recently, a Snezhnograd resident encountered claims issues related to this company's insurance products. This citizen, who wishes to remain anonymous, was originally quite an art enthusiast, but has found the Snezhnayan theater scene's output to have become of uneven quality. As such, she purchased this company's "Audience Trauma Insurance." However, when she did indeed view a truly terrible production, resulting in her being unable to drink her favorite Rimecurrant Puree, she attempted to claim compensation, only to be told by the company that to claim this insurance, the policyholder must prove that she genuinely suffered psychological trauma from watching the play, but the fact that she was able to come in person to file the claim indicated that she was mentally sound.

At present, Snezhnograd authorities have already filed an investigation into this company. At the same time, the Transport Bureau would like to remind all Snezhnayan citizens to be on alert against insurance traps and to keep their Mora safe. Additionally, for those who wish to purchase train delay insurance, we ask that you select the official insurance products offered by the Transport Bureau to safeguard your rights and interests.

Welcome to Okurov!

Snezhnaya Vestnik

Welcome to Okurov!
Welcome to Okurov!

We who live in Okurov have simple customs and get along with our neighbors. No matter where you're from, every door here is open to you, and all of us shall treat you as family.

Additionally, we have a most exceptional doctor in town, well-versed in the arts of herbal medicine and surgical excision alike, able to help you and your family banish any chronic ailments.

Welcome to Okurov! Let's build a happy home for tomorrow together!