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- Savant Scribe of the Second Highest Order

For Next Level: 11268^xp of 20045^xp complete.

11268^xp

Hall of Honour

Golden

Quests

Locations | 185^xp

The Lost Empire

The Imperial city has been sucked into hell and the rest of the world has been ripped apart. And tying it all together is the Crystal Tower. The Tower lives in all realms, a needle piercing the fabric of each reality and threading them all together.

Key, Quill, and Seal

The three sacred relics of Ahkti.

Lifeforms | 110^xp

River Horses

Wild beasts of the imagination Â— untamed spirits of the quick and unfettered waters of this world. These steeds of the fast-flowing rivers are never to be captured, never to be controlled; to stop is to die Â— to be stopped is to be turned to droplets which return to the fast-flowing waters. Yet, while free they are things of pure beauty; mystical bringers of the gods' good will.

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Guilds

“ A society or country has a unique method of correction. Criminals are imprisoned in a dungeon with two options: Serve their time, or try to escape. Those who manage to escape alive, their crimes are forgiven early.”

WAR10CK

“ The size and number of knots in hair, tied around neck, or hanging from belt could signify family, importance, worship, guild affiliations. Being able to translate the meaning of the size and placement of knots can give you a a large understanding of who somebody is. May be used in a more barbaric society. Where in cities peoples clothes and crests show who they are, barbarians have no need for this so use knots.”

Strolen

“ Wytchwolde-Under-Ash, once a great Thorpe, was razed to the ground by the ruthless, and truth told more than slightly deranged, Porcelain Princess and her henchmen, the Purifiers. When the flames had at last subsided, and a kaleidoscope of swirling, dull-gray ash choked the sky, nine hundred acres of old growth iron spruce, black larch and weeping birch, was burned to utter cinders, along with the entire coven of witches comprising the Sisterhood of the Silver Teat. Now, centuries later, the forests are somewhat re-grown, and the town of Foolswater stands where Wytchwolde-Under-Ash once did. It is said that even to this day, one can still find ashes in the otherwise potable well-water of this village. Once a year during the Winter Solstice, the 'Ash-Wind' comes to Foolswater, a suffocating black cloud that passes quickly but leaves dead birds and animals in its wake, darkening the trees, and staining the sky with black snow. The inhabitants of the village know better than to be caught outside during the day-long Ash-Wind. Everyone is locked snugly inside, singing old hymns that curse and re-curse the burned witches who once called this place home.”

Murometz