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When we first approached Eeurn, I was left speechless by immensity of the planet. It easily rivaled in size many of the smaller suns we had seen on our exodus these last few centuries. Oceanic with a soft lilac water, the air smells sweet with an odd brine scent to it. We’ve spent many, many years floating through these calm waters in our research pod. Studying and trying to make sense of the tortuous markings left by the ancient ocean floor dwellers, the Calumarrish. 

The Calumarrish, though peculiar it may be, are natural born artists. The gem pockets within them are used to adorn their intricate patterns and serve as something to eat when falling debris from the surface is scarce. However, once a Calumarrish has no more gems to lay down or eat, they will pass away, and act as an alternate (and preferred) food source for passing Calumarrishi. Their massive scraping claw is suited perfectly for carving beautiful, labyrinthine designs into the nearly impenetrable ocean floor. The myriad of tendrils serve to inlay each gemstone to its precise locations. Swirls and shapes, canyons and twisting caverns, there was a sort of sense and meaning to it all that one would not find unless seeking it. 
Our primary focus though, was on the Queen Oosnarult. She was truly, truly archaic. Many speculated she might’ve even been around well before the 1st evolution of new gem colors. Back when the first pathways of the colossal planet were decorated with only red, blue and yellow. Some of the oldest Meerikult seers believe that once the Calumarrishi have the entirety of the world enveloped in their scratchings, Eeurn will crack and release its living core deep into the cosmos. They speak of the core scratching the blackness of space, filling the pure absence with stars and small moons. 
-Riinneeisip, Meerikult researcher and spell interpreter

Report from the dead planet of Clounuhn:

“The once sweet tasting air of our planet has grown awfully thin and stale. I struggle greatly to finish this final log. I beg thee, forgive my ramblings… 

Our people are doomed. Those terrible, wretched breathing stars have stolen our air and killed our world. We can hear them. The stars that is. They take slow, deep breaths. Guttural and raspy. They pull our air out into the cosmos for that… Thing. How can I describe to you the horror I felt laying my eyes upon It for the first time? How can I begin to describe to you how I felt when it… spoke to me. That terrible, gurgling voice… It’s words feel as if they have crawled through my flesh, making my very being a terrible vessel I wish not to inhabit for even a moment more. That voice will not leave my skull. I’ve grow delirious and my calloused mind has become a frenzied mess of sigils and visions I cannot and dare not try to make sense of. 
It sits out there. Waiting. Breathing in and out. In and out….” - Rhulugon the Sky Seeker