Tides of Fate lore compilation

This is a compilation of all the lore tidbits in
https://godsunchained.webflow.io/expansions/set-tides-of-fate#storysofar

in a single easy to read place.

This is not original content

Distant Shores

Overview:

“I have word of Reios…” A message in a bottle, washed up from seas beyond, leads Eiko to sail aboard The Atlant Marauder on a trip to the great unknown. With the pirate captain Admiral Mayday as a guide, Eiko embarks in search of the old leader of the Band of the Wolf in the company of thieves and rogues. The Shimmering Atlant – a region of Eucos unexplored by those on the continent of Faenar – awaits!

—-

The Story:

“Eiko, I have word of Reios. A west wind will drive your sails from Great Eye docks. Mayday! Mayday! –G”

A simple note, intended for a single recipient, led Eiko aboard a strange ship to a strange land. The Atlant Marauder, a mighty vessel that cut through the seas like a well-honed blade, was helmed by Admiral Mayday, a blunt but charismatic captain with questionable intentions, not to mention the company she kept.

“My Marauders get a bad wrap. They roar like sea dragons but purr like sea lions when you give them a chance.”

Despite Mayday’s obvious connections to the Guild, Eiko was beginning to see Mayday’s point. Out here, the quirks of the crew had grown on her, and it had become a game among them to break Eiko’s stern demeanor, cracking toothy smiles on the rare occasion someone succeeded. But Mayday was the standout. An obvious leader, she was at ease on The Marauder, seeming as natural as the tide itself.

“Your continent of Faenar is a magnificent place, sure,” Mayday would tout. “From Anubia to Ronel, there are endless wonders. But nothing so wonderful as the wide open seas. Just wait until you see the Shimmering Atlant. The wind through your hair, the sun on your skin… it’s bliss.”

Yet staring out from the ship’s deck, Eiko only felt anxious. A blanket of ocean and untold possibilities, it felt like gazing out into a whole new world, like Eiko was embarking on something completely unknown. The duelist steeled herself against the task ahead. If a wayward message, a bottle its only vessel against the wild seas, could find its way to her, then fate would guide her to where she needed to be. It was up to her to make the right decision when she got there.

As the sun dipped to the horizon, the ocean came to life. Crystals hidden in the ocean’s depths reflected the light of the evening, shimmering with brilliance, the sky filling with color of the six domains themselves. Eiko stood firm, defiant against the cool evening breeze, reinvigorated by the essence of Eucos seemingly coming together in harmony. Yes, she was ready. She would face whatever was hidden beyond the tides.

“Reios, old friend, I will find you. Wherever you are.”

Sartonia, The Whitesalt City

Overview:

Eiko arrives in Sartonia, a lost city hidden in the Shimmering Atlant. Powered by domain crystals, the city is a testament to mortal ingenuity as opposed to the blessings of the gods, with tall buildings, floating gardens, and inventions known as Atlanteans working alongside the Sartonian people. Here, Eiko is surprised by an old companion thought lost: Giramonte, who has transferred his consciousness into one such Atlantean thanks to the help of Francesca, Sartonia’s brilliant Chief Scientist. But Reios is nowhere to be found, thought to be held hostage by the fearsome Draka on the Island of Fire.

—-

The Story:

“What took you so long!?”

Eiko stared in disbelief at the strange creature. A golem? No... calling it a magical construct seemed more appropriate. The construct was made out of crystal and stone encrusted with barnacles, and from its core a deep blue light spilt forth. There was only one other place she’d seen machines like this. Only one other person… but Giramonte had fallen at Raneko Village, hadn’t he?

“So I died. Big whoop!” the construct that spoke with Girmaonte’s voice hooted. “There’s nothing that science and a bit of magic can’t solve, young wolf. This body is but the first step: Atlantean, they call it. I’ve based a large part of my creations on scraps of these things washed up across Faenar, but a whole city of them? If only the hacks at the Academy of Mystic Arts could see me now!”

Automabunn hopped onto a stunned Eiko’s shoulder, the little mechanical bunny beaming with satisfaction, and was that… affection that crossed Giramonte’s stoney face? The grumpy tinkerer really was pleased to see her.

“Always have a backup plan. Welcome to Sartonia, young wolf. A city beyond even my wildest dreams…”

“…with technology that can lead to the betterment of Eucos!”

A woman in a blue wetsuit leapt out from behind Giramonte, black soot covering her face. She lifted her goggles to reveal intelligent blue eyes that shone with mirth.

“Did I sound like King Wakian?!”

Eiko was stunned. Did she just crawl out of Giramonte? “Were you there the whole…?”

“Uh-huh. Don’t mind me. Old Gigamonte here is in a temporary body. Still needs a bunch of work before I can get him ship-shape and ready to venture beyond Sartonia, but don’t you worry! I’m working on it. Francesca, Chief Scientist. At your service.”

Giramonte looked surprisingly unphased considering someone had been tinkering on his frame the whole time. “Francesca and her scientists are the visionaries behind all this,” he said, signaling to the surrounding city, “and King Wakian… he has a vision to bring this technology to the rest of Eucos. IF his new Prophet of Progress can be trusted.”

“Gigamonte has a habit of naysaying, doesn’t he?” Francesca said with a knowing glance to Eiko. “We’ve been looking for a tool that can harness the power of the crystals for centuries. You couldn't possibly understand how important the Prophet's discovery is!"

“Now listen! Chief scientist or no, with age comes wisdom, and I’ve got plenty of both! And you can’t just go trusting every…”

As the two playfully bickered, Eiko tried to take in The Whitesalt City that sprawled around her, a marvel of human ingenuity in the middle of a vast ocean. Everywhere she looked there was evidence of a highly advanced society. Domain crystals powered the towering buildings and inventions that made their way through the streets alike. It was all so much, so new, but there was one thing noticeably absent.

“Giramonte. Where’s Reios?”

The Atlantean fell silent, his face suddenly serious. “Yes. Right to it, then. After all this time, I believe I’ve found our old leader. Tracking her trajectory through the portal somehow led us here, but the Old Wolf had a different fate. I believe she’s being held hostage on the Island of Fire, way out in the Shimmering Atlant. It’s populated by a fearsome people. Scaled warriors who ride upon the backs of dragons. It’s said they’ve stared too long into the depths, that they practice dark magics and wake terrors from below the seas.”

The old tinkerer paused, knowing that he was about to ask a lot.

“Find her, Eiko. I can’t go in this form yet, but you can. It’s dangerous, but once a wolf, always a wolf – and we both know wolves don’t fear the dark. All you need is a ship.”

Here be Dragons

Overview:

Eiko arrives on Vasek, the Isle of Fire, aboard a stolen boat helmed by the boisterous Captain Thibbs. There she is confronted by the Draka, a people who live alongside dragons and the crystals of the land. Despite the stories she has heard in Sartonia, the Draka welcome Eiko with open arms, and Eiko is reunited with Reios, her old mentor and friend. Reios has been living happily amongst the Draka, but something has changed within her, where once the Old Wolf fought to protect, now Eiko’s mentor has seemingly incited war.

The Story:

The Draka blade came down hard and fast, near inches from Reios’ face.

The Old Wolf spun to the side, sweeping her assailant’s legs, but the Draka warrior was ready, deftly leaping over the attack and transferring the full weight of his body into a finishing blow.

Eiko watched as her old mentor lay defeated, pinned to the ground. Her hammer, which Eiko had finally returned to her, lay embedded in the sands of Vasek, the Island of Fire.

“Don’t look too shocked, your friend is well-matched,” the large Draka next to her chuckled, a hearty sound with a gravelly resonance that seemed to fill the very air. “Glinn is the foremost of our pride soarers. He bears the title of Draka Pride; his crystal shines bright.”

When Eiko had sailed to the Isle of Fire, she didn’t know what to expect. Her escort, the young “Captain” Thibbs (temporary captain of the stolen Atlant Marauder) wasn’t very good at setting expectations, but what she found here – the richness and vastness of the Draka – far contradicted the tales of a primitive, shadowy people.

Now Eiko found herself seated beside Tarken, the leader of the Draka’Nu tribe, made so due to his connection with the tides. His presence was calming, and his love for his people as he watched them train was more than evident.

Suddenly, a giant roar reverberated through the air, and a huge red dragon descended on the scene. Reios jumped to her feet as the dragon roared once more in Glinn’s face, the warrior’s cape billowing behind him from the sheer power of the cry. But the Draka Pride just laughed, put his hands up in the air in mock surrender, and backed away from the old wolf and her dragon.

“Alborax is the mightiest of our dragon kin,” said Tarken. ”A true fighter amongst fighters. She wouldn’t let anyone mount her for a long while there – her flame burned too hot – and yet she has taken quite a liking to your Old Wolf.”

“Reios does have a way with warriors,” Eiko offered.

“She does, and it’s why she’s been accepted so well here – despite having no crystal to her name. She has provided us with a purpose. We Draka fuse with the crystals of this land when we are young, and we grow alongside them, drawing on their power to harness the domains. They too, grow alongside us, and both Draka and the crystal share the land. But these are dark times. The land cries out. The crystals, ripped from their source by Sartonian greed, have stirred an awakening in the depths. Something deep; something primal. And we have begun to listen.”

“This power from the depths,” Eiko considered her words carefully. “It’s what you used to heal Reios?”

“More than heal. Like many Draka, she would have been gone, if not for the depths. We would have confused her for a Sartonian, if not for Alborax. The depths brought her back, and we are grateful, for she has helped us see that we need to stand against this, before the land suffers too much.”

Eiko watched Reios bark orders to the other Draka training below. When she had found Reios, she couldn’t believe her mentor was here, that her friend was alive, after everything she’s been through. But something felt… different. There was a darkness in her. An anger that wasn’t there before. She was always one to protect those in need, but instigating war? It didn’t feel right. She’d found her friend, and with that one long and aching question had been answered. She thought she’d feel fulfilled, only to find more questions present themselves.

The Sartonians and the Draka both stood on separate sides. The Sartonians looking to build a new world with incredible advancements, the Draka looking to preserve the natural world with a deep reverence. It was a dizzying conflict, and she wouldn’t get the answers she needed by sitting around with one or the other.

But where could she go? Automabunn climbed on her shoulder, a small comfort until she saw a nervous but eager light shining behind its eyes. Despite its tentative and frankly chaotic nature, the little critter was smarter than it was built to know. Something was happening behind those glassy eyes, and she was determined to find out.

The Hands of Fate

Eiko sails to the Shimmering Spire in her search for answers. Here she is greeted by the mysterious Hands of the Spire, an ethereal being with the power to see beyond mortal understanding. As the power washes over Eiko, she is confronted with images of Sartonian and Draka hubris, two factions whose good intentions are spiked by dark undercurrents. She has found the answers she sought – even gaining a glimpse at the darkness threatening to consume her friend – yet if Eiko doesn’t act soon, she could be stuck here forever.

The Story:

Eiko’s mind flooded with images. Past. Present. Future. A cerebral palace of intertwining fates, shining before her in the reflection of a thousand crystals. It was so much to process, so much to take in. But if she let herself get overwhelmed, she could be trapped forever.

Eiko had left Vasek and sailed to the Shimmering Spire, the crystal peak at the center of the great ocean expanse. According to Automabunn, it was the largest crystal of the region, and uncharacteristically reflected all six domains. If this whole conflict was about crystals, there had to be answers here.

She’d been greeted by a strange being, the Hands of the Spire, an ethereal figure in a palace of crystal. The Hands moved with a dreamy motion, as if they weren’t really there, or they had been once, were not now, but would be again. The halls were made of great crystal, and she could just make out scenes reflecting in the surfaces as she moved. Or was it a trick of the mind?

A confrontation.

A struggle ensues.

An interruption causes a split in reality, a portal snaps open.

Two figures fall in.

“Welcome, seafarer,” the Hands spoke, yet their mouth did not match the words that came out. “You have arrived at a time of great intersection. A time where the road of fate splits and frays for many. My time for action has long passed. These hands that once held back a darkness shall now be used to give light – but whether the beholder will forever be stunned or illuminated is yet to be seen.”

Light exploded out of the figure, and their eyes and mouth expanded to unnatural proportions. The doors of the crystal palace slammed shut, and the white light filled Eiko, flowing through her entire being as images slammed through her consciousness.

A peoples flee a large coast, their homes left behind, a fear of the divine in their hearts.

They wash up upon jagged rock, their vessels scattered on cold crystal.

A discovery! Power within crystals. Warmth, life, hope in the shelter of a rocky cave.

Progress. Caves forgotten as tall buildings of white reach for the skies.

A longing for others, a longing to return home. To bring their gift to the world. Yet the divine threat ever looms, fear, the greatest barrier.

A Prophet. A stranger with a powerful relic strong enough to cut the ties of the gods from this realm. Could this be the missing piece? Could this be the path home?

Like light refracted through crystals the images continued to flood Eiko’s mind. The plight of the Sartonians, laid bare. The face of the Prophet leering, his white hair billowing like tendrils. His expression twisted, his intentions with the Sartonians fueled by his own designs for order.

The image shattered into a rainbow of color, and a new scene shifted into focus.

A ceremony. A young Draka receives a crystal, like their ancestors before them. The red crystal is embedded into its chest, they feel warm.

Grown, the Draka watches as the seas turn black. The crystal in its body feels cold.

Blades rip at the ocean floor, as crystals are pulled from their rest. Fissures open. A black, inky mist claws out.

The Draka sinks below the sea. A harpoon in their chest, their crystal fading. The land will take them. The land loves them as they do it. Doesn’t it?

The black ink takes them. A loss of self as power surges through them. Their mind sinks. Their hearts steeled on one thing.

Armies of inky eyed beings flood the vision. Their hearts and minds are one. One purpose. One goal. It must all be undone.

A vision of Reios, inky eyed amongst the ranks, ripped Eiko from her vision as she wrestled for control. A darkness so consuming she could feel it reaching for her soul. This must have been what Eiko identified within her friend. This power, this force. Did she really think she could stop it?

The visions kept coming, unrelenting in their assault. Eiko had come to the Shimmering Spire to find answers, she could not let the weight of those answers be her undoing. She had to find a way out. She had to save her friend. Save them all.

It all seemed too much.

‍Escape the Spire Event Result

Eiko's fate and the fate of the Shimmering Atlant was decided by the outcome of the Escape the Spire community event in #the-atlant-marauder. Here's what happened.

The seafaring crew of the Atlant Marauder helped Eiko solve the puzzles of the past, present, and future to escape the mental prison of the Shimmering Spire. While trapped, they learnt of the good intentions of both factions leading to dark results.

Draka: In attempt to protect the land, the Draka's meddling with a darkness from the depths threatened to consume us all. This is the very same darkness that threatened to consume Reios. Releasing this into the world could change Eucos as we know it. If there was a time to help her friend, the time was now.

Sartonian: In an attempt to return to Faenar and bring the gift of technology to the wider world, the Sartonians were misled by the Prophet of Progress for his own means. The prophet was Thaeriel, the fallen god, in disguise, and this could have dire consequences for all of Eucos. If the seafarers could get to Francesca, she might be able to sabotage the Sartonian weapon before it's too late.

A choice was put to the seafears, who would they warn? Where should Eiko sail? And after much debate, they chose to sail to Vasek, the Isle of Fire. So the seafarers went on one last journey to warn the Draka, warn Reios, and stem the darkness to come.

Drowned in Dread

“Giga, it’s happening, we’re actually doing it!”

Francesca couldn’t believe it. The Sartonians had somehow held them off. The battle was fierce, but the Atlantean nodes were almost at full charge. Project R.I.S.E. would activate and the Sartonians could return to the mainland.

“How many times have I told you?” Gigamonte chided.

Francesca laughed, the old soul was cynical to a fault, what could possibly stop them now? But then she saw it. An Atlantean falling from the sky, Zaskia’s Atlantean, its crystal core shattered. Pulling out her scope, she spied a mighty dragon rider break through the clouds, his spear held high. He was heading straight for the Prophet, the very source of the charge.

The old Atlantean grumbled. “Don’t count your dragons…”

… before they hatch.” she said in disbelief.

Sartonia’s pilot plummeted to the ground as Glinn emerged from the clouds. The Endless Falls standoff had been a risk. Maybe too much of a risk. Sartonia’s elite had almost been the end of his pride soarers, but his warriors had won the day… barely. Oh would he have a story for Reios if they ever got out of this mess.

Below the battle raged and domain energy of all colors sparked wildly about, all emanating from the lone figure atop the Spire.

“It’s happening,” Glinn growled to his dragon. “That must be the prophet Eiko warned us about.”

Glinn gave a parting glance to the Sartonian pilot who fell to the depths below, her final words still echoing through his mind.

“...we just wanted to live.”

She would rest with the tides, an honorable end for a fierce warrior.

Thaeriel felt Eucos’s power surge through him. His mortal frame ached. But the Atlantean suit combined with the reformed Blade of the Creator, the blood of the first being, kept him in one piece. He felt almost like a god again. Almost.

It was happening. The power to bring order to Eucos, the order it so clearly needed. He had seen what the other gods had not. There was something wrong with Eucos, there had always been something wrong. And he would be the one to bring it to heel. The brightest Light always casts a shadow. He would claim that shadow, and wield a force older and more powerful than any god.

Thaeriel laughed. The moment was his. Eucos would be saved. He closed his eyes and lifted the blade. It was time.

A roar. A cry. A flash.

“For the Draka!”

Domain energy erupted from the top of the Spire as Glinn’s dragon dived. The prophet seemed deaf to his approach, the swirling energy reaching a crescendo. Glinn leapt from his dragon, soaring bodily through the air.

He cried out for his people. He cried out for the land. He cried out for himself as he drove his spear into the Prophet’s glowing core. Domain energy burst from the Atlantean armor, drowning out the prophet’s cries.

“What have you done!? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”

The mighty sword fell, and Glinn watched in horror as it landed blade-first, piercing the Spire. A crack. Then another. There was no time. The Pride of the Draka leapt without thinking, hoping his dragon would find him.

From the Spire came a pulsating rumble. One that shook the fabric of the land itself.

The fighting ground to a halt as all eyes looked to the source of the sound; a sound so primal it felt like Eucos itself had cried out in anger. The great crystal known as the Shimmering Spire, once electric with the colors of the domains, began to fill with a thick black substance, swirling upwards like ink in water. Cracks rushed down the crystal's exterior, thin fault lines searching for a likeness. Then, it happened.

With a terrifying howl, the Shimmering Spire shattered.

“Brace for impact!” Mayday shouted, pulling the mast ropes tight around herself as The Altant Marauder was lifted by a wave of tidal proportions. She watched as one of her unlucky marauders was thrown into the starboard side, his neck breaking as he slammed against the wood.

Around them, black inky smoke spilled out from the Spire and set upon the warring factions. Draka and Sartonians scattered as the smoke consumed all it fell upon. In the distance, a great roar erupted. Mighty bones rose in the horizon, as if the skeletal isle of Vasek were awakening. An impossible thought.

Mayday watched as the Spire’s smoke swept over her crushed crewmate, hungrily seeking prey. To her surprise, he twitched, then rose – eyes black as night, his movements unnatural. The ship jolted, bucking as a giant tentacle emerged from the depths, and again as it slammed down upon the water. By the time she stabilized, the crewmate was gone.

“All hands on deck!” Mayday barked, untying herself and launching into action. She didn’t quite know what was happening, but she knew it was bad. She refused to die here.

She took one last look at the Spire. It was the stuff of nightmares. Tentacles of smoke spilled out from the cracks and, amidst the chaos, a single figure floated above. The figure was humanoid in form, but large ink-black wings spread from its back. In its hand, the Blade of the Creator emitted a strange light, a light that promised only darkness.

Days had passed. Weeks. Months. Years. Did it matter? Time was no longer comprehendible. Had it ever been?

Zaskia had lost. She had failed her people. Sunk to the depths below. And yet, after years, months, weeks, days, Zaskia – once the Ace Pilot of Sartonia – pulled herself from the water.

No, not Zaskia.

She was part of something bigger now. The Dread had risen, and she would follow.