The Fallen, The Forgotten, & The Forsaken [Act 2 Trailer]

The Fallen

The realm of Nibhsart was completely inhospitable, though not exactly intentionally so. In fact, it had not been designed with any intention, as those who made it were not fully aware of the realm that existed within. Regardless, the realm existed, and it was inhospitable.

Within this place, there were a few refuges used by its unfortunate inhabitants as locations to gather and confer, so see who had arrived and who had fallen, and at last to mourn those who had fallen. Because, despite what had occurred across the rest of the worlds, Nibhsart had one rule: **** was permanent, and it was forever. No necromancy, no resurrections, no reincarnations. One who falls in Nibhsart is removed in the truest sense from the rest of existence.

Due to this, next to none of its inhabitants were willing to fight. After all, when it was hard enough to survive in this hellscape, why would one ever wish to risk becoming injured? There were of course a few powerful beings who hunted weaklings to entertain themselves, from Drevgan to the others who had fallen as figureheads of world events.

Above all, none risked one fight above all others; the Acolyte. No member of the congregations could vouch as witness for its arrival, for every last one of them could honestly state it had already been there when they themselves appeared. Despite the dangers it posed, the threat of **** was minimized due to its strange behavior, being that it never left the center of Nibhsart. As such, you were safe as long as you simply stayed away, and no entity in their right mind would enter its realm.

So perhaps Otto was not in his right mind, but that was nothing new to him. His mind was clouded, caught between a flood of memories he could not tell were his. Despite this all, he knew one thing none of the others had known. That there was a way out of Nibhsart, and only the Acolyte could provide it.

Otto hauled himself over the last ledge, catching his breath as he at last reached the summit of the great mountain known as the Throne of the Acolyte. Not far behind him a hand garnished in black metal grabbed the ledge and hoisted up its owner, a towering knight in draconic-themed armor.

With one last huff, Otto **** himself onto his feet, gazing forward towards the center of the peak and what he had come for. A singular figure, clothed in faded dark-purple robes hovered in the center of the spot, staring up at the maelstrom above them with its back to the two. Two long, blackened and withered hands hung out the sides of the robes, coming out from beneath its shawl-like hood. These were the only signs that a being dwelled within the cloths, as no legs could be seen within.

When for but a moment Otto hung his head to take a breath, he looked back up to find the entity gone. He looked around slightly panicked, only to hear a raspy voice behind him. "I request you answer a query of mine, trespassers."

Slowly and carefully, Otto turned around to witness the figure had now moved behind him, floating just beyond the edge of the cliff they had climbed. He swallowed to calm himself, nodding to the creature to urge it to continue.

"What is your purpose in coming to this place?" It spoke clearly, a disproportionate maw with jagged fangs visible under its hood, despite the entire rest of its face being shrouded in darkness.

Taking a deep breath to steal his nerves, Otto responded. "I am here to leave this place."

Making no reaction to this statement, the entity turned slightly to look towards Otto's companion, who replied in turn. "I am here to bear witness to his ascension or demise on behalf of the congregation, nothing more." It was such a comfort to Otto to know how much he mattered to his current comrade.

"I see..." The figure floated closer, hovering closer yet none of its shrouded form becoming more visible. "And, pray tell, what makes you worthy to exit this realm?"

Raising his shoulders and chest, Otto spoke the truth he was certain of. "I am not meant to be here."

This was the first thing to draw a reaction from the entity, seemingly catching it off guard. "Such certainty in those words, what brings that level of absolute faith?"

"Gaze upon my soul and you shall see. I have no doubts my presence here is but a mistake." Otto spoke without the slightest amount of wavering, as to break would mean a permanent ****.

In response, the being opened its mouth wide, and Otto prepared to hear its response. Only, instead of speaking, its jaw simply opened to an unreasonable size, and a glowing eye emerged from within the creature's maw. It took a great amount of willpower to stand still under its gaze, feeling as if it saw through his soul to something beyond, something he did not know.

The Acolyte closed its mouth abruptly, seemingly swallowing before shifting into an oversized grin. "So be it. If you are here by mistake, allow me to amend that error." Otto let out the breath he was holding, relief flowing over him.

That was, until a massive hand grabbed him from behind. He looked down in fear and confusion, before looking back forward at the Acolyte. "Do give those on the outside my regards, I believe I shall be paying that realm a visit sometime in the future."

Before Otto could question that statement or even say goodbye to his compatriot, the hand holding him shot upwards as if launched into the air. He flew higher and higher, still clutched in the fingers as the hand **** him into the skies, into the maelstrom.

Until a great light consumed his vision...

The Forgotten

A pair of adventurers entered the twisting storm, the land of eternal pelting sand and strikes of lightning that turned the ground into swathes of glass. No living soul had entered this place since the last world event, and that was only due to the necessity to make certain nothing had changed. But now, a new event was beginning, and that necessity had returned.

"Tyrollius Ragnar" was a new member of the "Dawn's Hand" guild, one of the strongest and most influential guilds among Shards of Arcus, with its founding having been during the first world event. He had been delegated to this job as a form of newbie hazing, though he was being escorted by one of the more experienced members.

It was only when "Victoria Lystol" gave him a friendly shove that he realized he had stopped walking to take in the sights. "Come on newbie, let's get this done fast so we don't have to linger here." She gave him a glowing smile, a sign of closeness Tyrollius wasn't sure he had quite earned yet.

Regardless, the two of them made small talk and reminisced on their respective times joining the guild as the wandered through the barren lands. It was only after having explored for near an hour that Victoria paused, looking at one of the massive spires of glass formed from the eternal storm.

Tyrollius waited for a few moments before calling out in concern, "Is everything alright? We need to keep moving, don't we?"

Victoria turned around to him with a smile, "Don't worry, just remembered something from last time I was here!" Without further explanation, She began walking in what seemed to be an arbitrary direction, and Tyrollius had to scramble to catch up.

No matter how many times he asked, Victoria never told him where they were going, instead giving cryptic statements such as "you'll see" with a wink. Having given up, Tyrollius tried to think of what could possibly be worth spending more time in this hellish biome. However, he soon got his answer as a towering shape become visible due to lighting striking behind it.

Despite being rather new to Shards of Arcus, you would have to have not looked into any of its history to not recognize that shape. It was the corpse of a Stone-Daemon, specifically one known as a Cathedral, due to the fact that they were basically walking temples used to carry important figures during the first world event. To Tyrollius' great relief, it seemed to be dead as it had fallen over and become half-buried in the sands.

This moment of awe was only broken by a soft elbowing from Victoria, "So, what do yah think? Pretty sick, right?" He couldn't find any form of words to respond, so he nodded his head. After a short silence, she gave him a mischievous smirk and continued, "So, you wanna go check out the inside?"

Shock hit Tyrollius like a gunshot, to the point he went stiff and nearly fell over. "Wh-what? You want to go inside a Cathedral? Don't you realize how dangerous that is?"

Victoria shrugged and moved her hand as if to shoo away the thought. "So what? It's been here for years so it's gotta be empty by now. Regardless, I'm here aren't I?" She leaned towards him, getting a bit into his face, "What, do you not think I can handle some broken down statues?"

Before he could even hope to answer her joking provocation, Tyrollius saw something that made his blood frieze in his veins. He could barely raise his finger to point forward, his voice failing him as he repeatedly choaked on his words.

Raising an eyebrow, Victoria questioned him. "Hey, you alright? Is something wrong IRL?" He was still unable to answer, so she instead turned around to look back towards the Cathedral. She then realized why he had been pointing, and what had given him pause.

Standing between them and the Cathedral, was a lone figure. Towering above them at a height that must have been at least 10 feet, a cloak that looked like curtains draped over it like a toga, was something she had only seen in old videos from the guild-master. Her own body froze as the figure shook and clunked forward, its stone from looking undamaged despite the untold time it must have spent within this hellish place.

As it slowly became closer and closer, neither adventurer could muster up the ability to move. It should not be possible for such a thing to still exist, let alone still be alive. They were said to all have died instantly upon the conclusion of the 1st World event, so how was it here?

Neither of them did anything to stop it as the Stone Daemon reached them, and shifted its body to reveal a massive glaive. Not even the slightest move to block was performed as they were both cleaved in half, dying in but one blow.

The intruders eliminated, the Daemon turned towards the south, towards the beacon that had awoken it. The precise location could not be identified, but it knew this aura, this energy, and so it knew where to go. This was the aura of the Blackflame, and thus Katash had awoken it. And thus, it would go to the seat of his power.

Nothing would be able to stop the Daemon from reaching its objective: Rikath, the capitol of the Lizardfolk empire...

The Forsaken

Within a strange chamber two figures sat at a table, both tense as they stared each other down. A great amount of though went through both as they considered exactly what to do, one wrong move could result in catastrophic consequences, after all. The tense silence lasted, both trying their hardest to gauge the other while not being gauged.

In the end, the silence was broken by one of them shouting, "LIAR!" She shoved her finger accusingly at the other, her long black hair flowing about from this sudden, forceful motion. The other figure let out a click of their tongue and a shake of their head before both reached for items on the table...

And lifted the cups in front of them, revealing the five dice beneath each. Both of them quickly counted in their heads, wanting to find as fast as possible who had been right, and in the end...

"HA! One two three four five! Five fives, just like I said!" The man smirked as he laid back in his chair, propping his feet on the table in triumph. "Hehehe, you know what that means don't you? I won our little bet!"

With a groan of annoyance and defeat, the woman put her head in her hands. "Ugh, no way. How the hell did you roll four fives on your own? I can't believe this shit." She shook her head without looking up at him, already able to picture in her head the image of the punch-able expression on his face.

The man shrugged, "Don't know, don't care. All that matters is I did, and I won, so are you ready to uphold our little wager?" He let out the most annoying little chuckle she had ever heard, it took everything in her not to leap over the table and try to kill him.

So, she instead grabbed the edge of the table and flipped it, causing the unprepared man to fall backwards and tumble out of his chair. He kept rolling for a few moments, his elaborate armor clinking and clacking together and he scrambled to stop himself and return to his feet.

Once he was at last upright, he quickly got into a refined posture in a feeble attempt to regain his dignity. "What the hell Olivia? Not cool!" He stomped up to her, trying to act as imposing as he could, though they both knew that he would never throw a punch here.

The reason for that become evident as a third figure entered the chamber, dragging their feet in a lazy limp as they walked past the table. The two of them watched warily as the third figure momentarily stopped at the flipped table, staring down at the dice and cups scattered on the floor. Slowly they lifted their head and stared at the two, a tired annoyance shining through their silver eyes.

A sigh escaped them as they spoke in a weary voice, "Silver, Olivia, how many times must I tell you that, despite my offer to host you, I am in no way your caretaker?" Both of them stuttered to reply, but the figure simply raised their hand. "I do not want to hear blames or excuses. I am not cleaning up after you, and I expect that nothing will be damaged or majorly misplaced by the time you leave, understood?"

While the two of them were frequently doing what they could to give minor annoyances to their host, they could both understand when enough was enough. They both hung their heads and nodded, relenting to the owner of the realm they were currently within.

The figure nodded in response, "Good, now please let me get some rest, I hate being bothered while recovering from a raid." With that, they continued walking through the room up to a rather insignificant door, which they unceremoniously opened and slammed behind them.

Olivia and Silver slowly turned to each other, both waiting for it to have been just long enough that their host to be out of earshot. After giving just a bit more time to be absolutely certain, both of them calmly turned to face each other, and both gave the other the middle finger.

Stuck in this stalemate and not allowed to vent their frustrations on each other, they could only angrily set the table back up and gather the dice back into the cups. In the end, they both sat still, daring daggers into each other.

Quickly getting bored, Silver grabbed his cup with a huff, shoved a handful of dice in it, and slammed it on the table. Without even lifting the cup to look at its contents, he leaned back and announced, "Two sixes, take it or leave it."

He waited for a few moments with his eyes closed for Olivia's response, however it didn't come. Confused, he looked back to his opponent to see her staring off into the distance, a shocked expression on her face. With a snort, he tried to keep up his demeanor, "What, it's two sixes, it's not that big of a deal."

"It is." Silver nearly fell back in his chair on his own this time as Olivia quickly stood up, looking as if she was bracing herself to full sprint out the door.

"Look, I didn't know you seem to have a traumatic backstory involving-"

Silver was cut off by Olivia turning towards him. "I can feel it again."

Raising an eyebrow, Silver cautiously urged her to continue. "What can you feel? What are you talking about?"

Not paying him much mind, a smile slowly spread across her face. It was a creepy smile, a sinister smile, a... a Tranquil smile. "I can feel the master's essence once more." She turned to Silver, who stared at her in somewhat horror. "He's back, I can feel him again! His presence graces the lands once more!"

Pushing his chair back, Silver began to grasp the severity of the situation at hand. "Olivia, remember what we said to each other?" She didn't seem to be listening, looking back towards the door with that distant longing on her face. "We said we wouldn't be servants again. We said we would not let ourselves be treated like puppets ever again!"

Olivia gave him no response, only the slightest moment of hesitation before she began to walk away. Silver stood up quickly, trying his best to move quickly and catch his closest friend. But she knew he would try to stop her, and she sprinted away.

"NO! OLIVIA WAIT!" He chased after her through their host's realm, gaining on her just barely. He could almost reach her robes, he was so close to stopping her-

Without thinking his legs froze and locked themselves to stop his movement as Olivia passed through the gateway, the passage to the world they had left behind. He stood there, panting and facing the shock and horror of the situation at hand.

After a few moments, his legs gave out and he collapsed to his knees, hunched over them as he began to sob. The last thing he had was gone, and he had been too much of a coward to risk himself to save her...