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Description

A curious creature, the Giltskitter. I know not if their unnatural design is merely a bizarre adaptation to the Orokin ruins around them, or if they are the descendants of long lost Orokin genetic modification.

Regardless, these little fellows are quite safe. You may find this particular subspecies lurking within the crumbled relics on the plains, or, more commonly, within the myriad byways and crevices upon the Unum's tower. They are not predatory by any means, yet they typically enjoy dining on the Unum's tower flesh. However, harvesting crews rarely need to worry about their day's work being tampered with, as the Tower Giltskitter is as furtive as it is beautiful, often fleeing at the slightest hint of danger. It is for this reason, bombing crews consider it good luck to stumble upon one, seeing it as a sign of the Unum's trust, and a guaranteed safe and plentiful daily harvest. Some harvesters will attempt to preserve the creature, turning it into a more permanent talisman or good luck charm.

Though not all about these creatures is wholly pleasant. The Tower Giltskitter often lays its clutches of eggs in precarious areas within the tower, and the constant shockwaves and vibrations shake the poor offspring loose. These eggs end up in the bay far below, and are largely unharmed. However, the Tower Giltskitter's eggs bear a striking resemblance to pearls or polished stones. It is not uncommon for a child or offwolder to stumble upon one washed up on the shore and think themselves lucky, only for that joy to turn to horror when the pearl splits open several days later, and hundreds of fledgling Giltskitters come spilling out.

It has led to a common Ostron phrase: "Like pearls from the bay." which means that although something may look or seem pleasant, it can actually hold a far more unpleasant truth.

Oh, and as a matter of truth, I would not advise eating these, or ANY Giltskitter for that matter. They hold an abundance of meat that can be cooked in dire times, but it not only invites bad luck, it also tastes...well...revolting.

Description

A curious creature, the Giltskitter. I know not if their unnatural design is merely a bizarre adaptation to the Orokin ruins around them, or if they are the descendants of long lost Orokin genetic modification.

Regardless, these little fellows are quite safe. You may find this particular subspecies lurking within the crumbled relics on the plains, or, more commonly, within the myriad byways and crevices upon the Unum's tower. They are not predatory by any means, yet they typically enjoy dining on the Unum's tower flesh. However, harvesting crews rarely need to worry about their day's work being tampered with, as the Tower Giltskitter is as furtive as it is beautiful, often fleeing at the slightest hint of danger. It is for this reason, bombing crews consider it good luck to stumble upon one, seeing it as a sign of the Unum's trust, and a guaranteed safe and plentiful daily harvest. Some harvesters will attempt to preserve the creature, turning it into a more permanent talisman or good luck charm.

Though not all about these creatures is wholly pleasant. The Tower Giltskitter often lays its clutches of eggs in precarious areas within the tower, and the constant shockwaves and vibrations shake the poor offspring loose. These eggs end up in the bay far below, and are largely unharmed. However, the Tower Giltskitter's eggs bear a striking resemblance to pearls or polished stones. It is not uncommon for a child or offwolder to stumble upon one washed up on the shore and think themselves lucky, only for that joy to turn to horror when the pearl splits open several days later, and hundreds of fledgling Giltskitters come spilling out.

It has led to a common Ostron phrase: "Like pearls from the bay." which means that although something may look or seem pleasant, it can actually hold a far more unpleasant truth.

Oh, and as a matter of truth, I would not advise eating these, or ANY Giltskitter for that matter. They hold an abundance of meat that can be cooked in dire times, but it not only invites bad luck, it also tastes...well...revolting.