One day during a blizzard, an explorer who had been walking on the mountain trails of rimworld for a long time returned to his settlement. He sat down on a chair with a hazy expression on his face and immediately began to tell a long story to the children who had gathered around the table as if he had regained sensation in his face. About the humans who hunted animals by jumping over rocks and cliffs, about the appearance and beauty that resembled those animals, about the hunters of white who glide through the snow-covered ruins and follow the bloodstains. Pausing for a moment, and brushing his beard, the explorer recalled his view of the mountain again. The real story hasn't even started yet, but he thinks it's time to tell their names at this point. A simple name he doesn't know who came up with it, about the people of the ridge, Maru.
"They were remarkably accustomed to the cold and rough terrain. Yeah, it would be accurate to say they were made to adapt."
"...so I said, 'That looks too heavy to run around with. Do you want to pretend you're falling and shake your ass?' She stared at me, and she slashed the pole five times as if it were worth it."
Weapons that can be modified
"From the ground, stems were coming out... it was blue. There's no other way to explain it."
"... Among them, there are two organizations that came together with a clear purpose, and they seemed to coexist with each other. They seemed to resemble each other, but the atmosphere was completely different."
How to earn trust
"Wait a minute, let's drink some water and continue."
The hunting method of Maru
Survivor of hyperborea
On the other side of the earth
The end of the story