Lore

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This page discusses the lore of Melvor Idle, if you do not want the game's lore to be spoiled then consider navigating away from this page.

The Lore of Melvor Idle is contained within a number of books unlocked in-game once certain

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Combat

related milestones have been reached. These books may be read at any time from the Lore page within the in-game menu, and a transcription of each is included below.

Base Game

Base game lore books will also drop as items once the relevant dungeon has been completed for the first time. These books may be safely sold and re-obtained at any point by clicking on the item within the completion log. The content of these books may be read from the lore page at any time, regardless of whether the item is currently held by the player or not.

A Tale of the Past, a future's prophecy

Unlocked when

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Volcanic Cave

is completed once.

Transcription

In the early stages of our world, everything existed as an energetic and shapeless mass with endless possibilities outstretched before it. All it needed was a pair of skilled hands to mould it into whatever they saw fit. It was here that The Four each tried, in turn, to harness their abilities to create something meaningful. An incalculable amount of time passed as the gods each tried and failed to produce anything that held long-standing merit. The Four were comprised of, Aeris, Glacia, Terran, and Ragnar, all of which attempted to rise up to the challenge to breathe life and creation into existence. To create something meaningful, and worth sharing with one another. However, despite all their efforts, individually, none of them were happy with what they were able to make. Frustrated with their individual lack of progress, they eventually pooled their power together and created the land known as Melvor. The Four frequently consulted one another, asking for input, sharing in successes, and propping one another up during their failures. Everything was harmonious in the beginning, with contributions from all being considered and given equal weight. This went incredibly well, until the creation of... us. The Vorlorans that inhabit this world. The Four were incredibly divided on how to properly lead, guide, and nurture us, and despite having no major disagreements ever before, this was simply too dire for them to move past amicably. The Gods fell into disarray, frequently quarrelling with one another over status, power, and how to lead us... As The Four splintered, our world did as well, and war was raged across its entirety, egged on by the Gods who refused to see past their differences. Blinded by their growing hatred for one another, none saw the scheme of Malcs, leader of the lesser dragons. With a huge toll of lives and power, the Four were sealed away and held in place by Malcs' soul, who became revered in the eyes of Melvor's populous for such a feat. Without the Four's interference or any reason to remain fighting, the once brutal and fiery war died off nearly overnight. After draining himself of so much power, Malcs entered a self-imposed exile to regain his strength and guard himself against those who may wish to destroy him in his weakened state. Many years passed by as Malcs bound himself to his new home. The tales of his riches and power never ceased though, and many sought after his location. Nothing stays hidden forever, not even the leader of the lesser dragons. Malcs defended himself for years, trying to keep the Four he bound to his soul contained... until it was broken. As his body shattered, the Four were set free once again. Four pillars of light streamed forth, darting into the sky: Aeris, the God of Air's Radiant Silver. Glacia, the God of Water's Soft Blue. Terran, the God of Earth's Mossy Green. And Ragnar, the God of Fire's Burning Red. All four found an endpoint within Melvor, and at the end of these beams of light rose dungeons that rivalled the largest and most opulent kingdoms in both size and majesty. Bitter over their imprisonment, their temper's flare once again and the Gods raise armies to tear one another apart. With you at the centre, what do you aim to do with what you've wrought out upon the land? Learn about the Gods. Aeris - The Air God Radiant Silver, wings of bountiful colours. Aeris is known as the Loving God. Given the power of flight she travelled the world radiating her love and beauty towards all the populace of Melvor. In the eyes of the people she was a beacon of hope and a symbol of peace in which the gods upheld. When trouble arose she would always be there as if a guardian was always watching over. During the early times she would often meet with the other gods to discuss the role she would play, however she considered only one a good friend. Over the many years that had passed her tireless effort had left her exhausted. "It's always the same." she cried. With all her effort she truly believed she was doing good. But the world is cruel and ever changing. Was she really ever needed? she thought. Upset and no longer wanting to feel this way she decides to exact the opposite of what she stood for. And so in the end the once loving god of Melvor becomes the recluse. Leaving the people to fend for themselves. "I wonder, what does all this power amount to when its no longer there, what do the people do when the hero leaves?" Glacia - The Water God Soft Blue, a cold heart. Glacia is known as the Helping God. While managing the oceans and seas she would guide lost voyagers who had gone astray to safety. The explorers of Melvor called her the Ocean's Spirit, for when she was happy the oceans were calm and when she was not the waves echoed it. The role she played was not something she wanted to do, but she knew it was her duty to maintain. Her true dream was to be free above the clouds like Aeris. Being tied to the oceans it was the only thing that was ever on her mind. However the burden of not being able to lied deep within her heart. Despite knowing she was shackled she would still try time and time again but fail. To always see Aeris soar away after their meeting was enough to break her. And as time went by her growing bitterness towards her role eventually escalated to hatred when Aeris decided she would no longer fulfil her role any more. Having clung to this dream for so long and seeing someone squander it was outrageous to her. And so they argued and argued for even longer until only what was left was nothing but pain behind her eyes. And after all these years it had already consumed her inner self. "Do you pity those who use their power for everyone else knowing they can never help themselves? they are the ones who tread the line between a blessing and curse." Terran - The Earth God Mossy Green, careless wisdom. Terran is known as the Entrusted god. The Earth God was the first before the others. With his power he transformed most of the worlds landmass to how it is seen today. All but one of the other gods respected him as their elder, knowing full well he would be the most knowledgeable. And so being unrestricted he was allowed to do whatever he wanted. The early inhabitants of Melvor saw him as the greatest of all which gave him all the support he needed to further continue his work. Terran would also organize the meetings of gods and instruct them of the role they should be upholding. But since the other gods never questioned him his ignorance towards everyone grew in parallel with his arrogance. As time went by to him there were no more boundaries, which in turn led to the anger of the other gods. But it had been so long, he did so much so what was different for him now? And so in his mind he was so sure he was betrayed when he was confined to a place where he no longer had any influence. "Solitary, confined to my own darkness. The whispers of a thousand cries brush over me like the wind. Is this true torture? Maybe not. This is the beginning of a new true king." Ragnar - The Fire God Burning Red, a demonic ego. Ragnar is known as the Chaotic god. The Fire God was the youngest of all the gods. With the power of fire he stood above the rest in terms of strength and he knew. His fierce rivalries with the other gods and his lack of emotion towards everyone else was troublesome. Knowing this the other gods shunned him and for the benefit of all living creatures he was restrained to a lesser influence by Terran. Ragnar was treated like an outcast and for a god to be shackled to this kind of level was demeaning. Ragnar despised Terran but he also knew he was not yet strong enough to take on all three of them and so he decides to start scheming in the background. Through his subordinates he would start to spread rumours which led to hate and violence amongst the people. His targeted actions were ruthless and lingered for years. Knowing full well who would eventually be blamed for this, Terran. And so with the growing hostilities between the gods and the inevitability of war on the horizon the restraints that once held him back turned feeble. The others will remember why he was known as the strongest. "Patience is the key to everything, the weak seek to find their opportunity while the strong know when it is their time again."

The First Hero and an Unknown Evil

Unlocked when

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Fire God Dungeon

is completed once.

Transcription

Despite the unbalance the Fall of the Gods would bring upon the land, it was a necessary evil. They were once shapers of the world, tasked with creating everything inside of it, and building upon their creations to give them life and complexity. Over the years, rising discourse and anger over how to lead and create gave way to disputes and wars with immeasurable casualties. The Fall of the Gods has brought forth a time of celebration and healing, along with some much-needed rest for you, who has slumbered away peacefully since the Gods’ defeat. The Capital of Melvor has been a place of peace and jubilant festivities, with hardly an idle hour in the streets since the heroes returned. Joyous laughter and elaborate parties continued while a sinister threat gathered on the horizon, unseen by all. You finally rouse from your slumber and depart from the simple, yet cozy tavern you had stayed in for the past few days. Wiping the sleep from your eyes, you ponder at the sudden, eerie stillness Melvor has been plunged into overnight. A blanket of thick, onyx mist chokes the sky with ghostly tendrils of an inky black substance weaving in and out of windows, doorframes, and the like. Despite your peering into shops and scouring the streets, there wasn’t a person in sight, with stalls, games, and food left suddenly and without apparent reason. You continue on, headed towards the main gates of the Capital. The closer you get to those looming gates, the more people you could see gathered all around, seemingly frozen in place in front of the wide-open gateway. You call out, yet no noise can be heard from your throat. You try to run but find yourself unable to. It feels as if ice has clawed its way into your body, leaving you raw and cold. After trudging along slowly for what feels like hours, the citizens are within reach, each with twisted expressions of horror and fear, looking out past the gates. You push through the silent crowd and follow their gaze to the horizon, locking your eyes upon a ruined tower in the distance. The windows and cracks of the pillar seep black mist, which continues to pour out at a frightening pace despite the seemingly frozen state of everything else. You reach out towards the tower and see your hand quickly become engulfed. Your feet follow quickly after, despite repeated attempts to kick the substance away. The mist locks you in place and creeps up your body, pulling you into the ground. It floods into your mouth, filling your lungs as you try to cry out. Things become so... incredibly cold. Every bit of heat is sapped from your body, leaving a bitter chill that freezes you to your core. Despite your struggles, it quickly consumes you, pulling you into the frozen earth. With a sudden snap, light flickers back, and the cold recedes from your body, almost as quickly as it had come. Despite feeling warm, you still feel… tainted. Sick, in a way. You look around and see a high vaulted ceiling and dark cobbled stone. Starlight filters into the room, illuminating great illustrations of gold-clad warriors and an ancient throne. Four smaller thrones are dotted throughout the room, though they currently sit empty and seemingly have for ages. From the main throne, you hear a hearty chuckle, followed by a couple of short, raspy coughs. “It’s been awhile since a Vorloran has managed to make their way into my tower. I presume you came to strike me down, no?” You begin to speak, but a sputtering cough rattles out instead as remnants of dark mist are expelled from your lungs. “Who are you?” You croak. “I am a being far beyond your comprehension. Simply put, I may be your undoing, though time is yet to tell. As it currently stands though, it simply doesn’t matter who I am.” You move to draw your weapon but are quickly restrained by black mist that floods into the room. “There’s no need for that. One shouldn’t enter a home and threaten the owner. They could quickly find themselves… incapacitated.” A sick, toothy grin creeps across the being’s face. The cloaked figure shakes their head and continues. “Defeating the Gods was impressive, but your true test still lays ahead. The girl must be stopped.” The cloaked figure extends an open palm towards you. “Now, begone.” You hear them quietly whisper, “Ret Nni Iwm Ete Ami Its Lu The” before they close their hand. You blink, and find yourself far, far from Melvor. People rush past you, nearly knocking you over. Time seems to have returned to normal. “What’s going on? Where are you all off to?” You ask a staring passerby. “It’s all over. Grab what you can and run as far as possible. Do not let the mist catch you.” They quickly take off, random bits and belongings tumbling out of their arms as they run along. Confused, you approach a woman, huddled into a corner and heavily sobbing. “She’s gone! We’re all doomed! There’s no hope left!” “Who is it? Who’s gone?” “Ahrenia… our hero. She ventured into the mist… and never returned.” You back up, even more confused. As your situation settles in, mist starts to trickle over the eastern wall of the city as a crowd frantically runs by. A thought creeps into your mind. Is this… truly the end?

New Dawn

Unlocked when

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Into the Mist

is completed once.

Transcription

The Vorlorans were a race of people who gladly worshipped the Gods and spread their influence across the land with fervor. Setting up shrines and churches, gathering offerings, and spreading word of the Gods were commonplace. In return, the Gods blessed harvests, summoned rains to extinguish fires, and granted strength to those in need. Things continued like this for many years with little complaint from either side. The people elected a special group of holy warriors, which they named The Warriors of Vorloran. This group was tasked to root out and kill any evil creatures that rose throughout the land of Melvor, cutting out rot and darkness across the land. Among the Warriors of Vorloran rose a leader, named Ahrenia. She happily accepted the role of commander and led the warriors well, quickly rising to fame throughout the land for her good deeds and skill in combat. As the war between The Gods began their sudden disappearance had left the Warriors of Vorloran to fend for themselves in their fight against evil. Their weapons and armor no longer carried their blessings that once protected them and with it their dependence on the gods had now left them vulnerable. Unease began to sweep through the ranks, fearing an unstoppable evil would eventually arrive. Their fears would then become a reality as rumours began to spread of a dangerous mist approaching. The Mist, said to have appeared out of the blue, was already destroying the outer towns of Melvor. The Mist seemingly was able to take control over monsters, leaving an affliction that would turn them into a murderous undead horde, led by a Dark Entity in which the survivors named Bane. With the Warriors of Vorloran weakened they hopelessly tried to protect as many people as they could, and one by one… they fell to its afflicted army. Ahrenia, desperate to do anything she could to save her people, traveled to the meeting place of the Gods known as the Millenium Tower, located in the Vorloran capital. Within the tower no gods greeted her. Only a cloaked figure who called themselves “The Herald”. They offered her the power she needed to save her people, and, though hesitant, she accepted. Though the mist had destroyed many towns and cities, there was still much to save, and Ahrenia rushed back to do as much as she could. With their hero returned to them, many celebrated and gathered arms, ready to fight back against the dark entity with renewed vigor. They marched off with songs in their heart, with Ahrenia leading them. All too soon, they reached Bane’s army and met the entity face to face. With a cry, Ahrenia charged forward, her blade glowing brightly and the Warriors of Vorloran all behind her. Her mastery of the combat arts shone in the battlefield, as fast as light her blade tore through all that tried to attack her, switching effortlessly to her to bow to help out the people around her and using magic to wipe out hundreds in a blink of an eye. Her men followed closely behind trying to keep her safe so she could focus on leading and casting. Her men frequently cried out in pain, others in fury, desperately fighting the unending hordes. Soon enough, Ahrenia met face to face with Bane, who tried desperately to drive her back with torrents of magic. She pressed on, landing clean blows against Bane who struck back with equal force. With both suffering substantial damage, Ahrenia gathered her strength and pointed her sword towards the sky. A ray of golden light poured down from the heavens, driving the mist back. The normally silent Bane screeched out with a blood-curdling cry, “Herald! I have failed you!” Ahrenia faltered, hearing the name of The Herald, but believing in her strength she aimed it towards Bane. Just as the edge of the golden light pierced Bane’s rotten, fetid flesh… it stopped. As did she. She looked around in horror as the mist quickly cascaded back all around her, swallowing her men and blotting out the sun. She tried to scream out, but no words came. The last thing she saw was a cloaked figure approaching her. Now with what little power she has left she offers it to you, “Vorloran, you must find a way to stop the Herald at all costs, search the lands and oceans for anything that will help you, you are our final hope now.” By defeating Into the Mist: You unlocked the new Combat Passive Slot Access granted to Dark Waters Slayer Area

Beginning of the End

Unlocked when

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Into the Mist

is completed once.

Transcription

Whether it was by some stroke of luck, divine intervention, or a demonstration of your own indefatigable will, you managed to bring Ahrenia back from the brink. It took momentous effort not only from you, but from the few living souls still left within Melvor, who desperately fought back Bane's creatures while you were away. You and Ahrenia limp back to the Capital. Days, weeks, or even months could have flown by in the time it took you both to walk through the war-ravaged lands surrounding the battered and broken towns and villages dotted throughout the charred landscape. Silent followers follow after the two of you as you made your way back. They had nowhere else to go. The Capital was the last bastion of safety they knew of, so they trail behind you, like moths following a small spark of hope in the night. Idle chatter mentioned other cities out in the mist, filled with survivors, holding out hope that they could weather whatever comes next. A glimmer of relief washes over the crowd's soot-covered faces as you and Ahrenia walk through the Capital's gates. There are far fewer people, even here, than when you first left. Your entourage of weary soldiers and scarred peasants dissipate into the crowd, thankful to be amongst the living, and behind solid walls. The ruler of the Capital welcomes the two of you with open arms, thankful to have a modicum of the burden lifted from her shoulders. She allows you both within the palace, which appears to have been converted into equal parts command center and soup kitchen. Rations are being dolled out to a line of hungry children while soldiers anxiously eye the sky and run to and fro. Over the next few days, you rest. Ahrenia tentatively knocks on your door from time to time, bringing in people she's deemed as potentially helpful. Each of them recounts similar tales of Bane, The Dark Entity. How he appears from seemingly nowhere, often without warning, bombarding places with a rain of fire before a choking carpet of black mist sweeps in shortly after. You managed to keep a running history of all that occurred from the numerous visitors you had. It's said that Bane was first spotted as The Four sequestered themselves away, deep within their dungeons. His dark mist swept over the entirety of the eastern lands, with those who succumbed to it raising back up once again. Droves of these undead creatures swept through the land, cutting a bloody swath all the way up to the Eastern Capital. It was there that some of the best warriors and mages stood their ground against Bane's army for an entire day, fighting on nothing but determination alone, long after their bodies had failed them. The tides turned in their favor, and the undead horde was driven back... until Bane appeared from the sky. Almost effortlessly, he made fire rain from the sky, not only tearing apart what was left of those defending the city, but shattering the walls in mere moments. The undead eagerly destroyed the ravaged defense forces, which of course rose shortly after their deaths to join the ever-increasing horde. Massive fires broke out, consuming neighborhoods in minutes as the scattered and horrified civilians did all they could to escape. Few did. And of the few that managed to escape the slaughter, fewer still managed to hold onto their sanity after seeing those horrors. Any place not surrounded by thick walls had already surely fallen, much like the hamlets and villages you and Ahrenia passed through as you returned to the Capital. Ahrenia let you digest the information and history over the course of a day before approaching you as you leave your room for the first time since entering the palace. "Bane will come here, eventually. They're only growing in power as more cities fall to him and his horde." You nod. You're unsure of what drives him, but you already knew for certain he'd be coming here sooner or later. Ahrenia was always said to be a hero, one who traded everything in exchange for incredible power. She was passionate, outspoken, and a natural-born leader. But now, she stands here, weary and pleading. Whatever confidence she once held herself with was gone, bleakly accepting the situation. She slumps against the wall and allows herself to slowly slide to the floor. "I don't know if you've heard. I almost struck him down, once." Your lips part, speaking for the first time in days. "And that's when you were lost to the mist?" Ahrenia seems almost surprised at hearing your voice, almost as if she didn't expect to be heard. "Yes. He... Bane... Called out. To a man called The Herald. He said he failed him. The Herald... a least a man claiming to be him... was the same man that gave me my power." "This... Herald. Could he be playing both sides? And... to what end?" She only sadly shakes her head before sighing deeply and raising once again. "I have no idea... All I know is that we need to be ready for whatever happens. This might not end with Bane alone..." "How long have we got?" She shrugs, before giving a slight smile. "I dunno. Could be a day. Could be a year. Whatever happens, if you were able to pull me out of that mist... I think we've got a shot. Rest up." She claps you hard on the shoulder before turning back to her room. You need to be ready. You have to be.

Impending Darkness

Unlocked when

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Impending Darkness Event

is completed once.

Transcription

The dust settles. The battlefield around you is a charred mess with little beyond rubble around you. Ahrenia is close behind you, panting heavily. The creature in front of you is missing an arm, and blood pours from multiple wounds which should have killed him. You cry out, "Bane, this ends now!" Bane braces himself and calls out in return, "Herald! I. Am. Ready!" A familiar crumbling tower appears in the distance. You're unsure as to whether or not it was always there, or if it materialized out of thin air. A man appears, and trailing behind him is an inky, swirling mist. Ahrenia manages to choke out, "It's... That's the Herald..." The large, dark figure walks closer to the two of you, raising their hand and speaking as you begin to charge at it. "There's nothing left for either of you to do beyond accepting your fates." As you get closer, you each swipe your blades at the Herald, both of which are stopped by an invisible force that locks them in place. The Herald smirks. "Your trial begins now." He suddenly appears behind Ahrenia despite not moving and easily knocks her across the open field. She skids until her body hits the remains of a scorched tree. You ready your crossbow and fire it at the Herald's throat, but the bolt stops inches away from it before dropping to the ground. It chuckles. "Useless." You continue in a frenzy, doing everything you can to land a single blow, all of which are easily deflected or stopped entirely by an unseen force you can only assume the Herald controls. Ahrenia joins you, side by side, but makes similar progress. You both decide on a combined strike, using up what little is left of your energy. Ahrenia points her sword into the air and light pours into it as you prepare the Ocean Song. You both cry out, directing everything towards the Herald... And then he raises a hand. "Not enough." You're both lifted into the air and cast aside, clattering roughly on the ground. The Herald stands over Bane, and their booming voice fills the room as you both gather your senses. "You were the greatest of my many creations." The dying Bane seems to beam at the Herald's praise. He tries to stand, but the Herald waves away his effort. "Bane, you will be remembered for what happened here." The Herald turns, their lifeless purple eyes boring deep within your very soul. "And you will not. You cannot stop fate." A moment passes before two final words leave The Herald's mouth. "Eternum... Noxia." A wave of energy instantly reverberates across the landscape. The world itself begins to twist and distort around you, before beginning to seemingly shake apart at its very seams. The Herald cracks a twisted, toothy smile, surveying the process. You lose grip on reality, and as you begin to question what's real and what's merely an illusion, the earth splits open and swallows you whole. You snap awake to an unfamiliar bed, breathless, and in a cold sweat. Ahrenia blearily rubs her eyes before fully taking into account that you're awake. When she does, she gives you a sad smile. You cough as she hands you water, which you greedily drink down. After a moment of collecting yourself, you manage to speak. "What... happened?" "The Herald used Bane to cast something... unthinkable. Everywhere I know of is teeming with monsters I've never seen or heard of before. Even the capital is swarming with them. You've been out for a few days." You groan. Everything you had been building towards... was for naught. Bane may be gone, if what Ahrenia is saying is true... then there's no hope left. "What now, then..?" Surprisingly, she looks... hopeful? "We were approached by... a dragon. It seems incredibly intelligent and it wanted to... speak with you. A large green dragon is waiting here to be our guide. We need to leave as soon as possible." You roll out of bed to find yourself in surprisingly good shape, despite the beating you took only a couple of days ago. You grab your gear and leave the large tent you were placed in. Sure enough, a dragon with emerald scales that glitter in the sunlight lowers its head as you approach. The two of you hop on, holding on for dear life as it speeds towards a large volcano. After a few minutes of flying, you slowly release your vice-like grip on the dragon. Ahrenia sits dumbstruck, taking in both the beauty... and horror... of the world around you. Between wispy cotton clouds, you catch glimpses of the changed world. It's too difficult to make out distinct details, but large, chaotic scars mark the landscape. Massive fissures snake away from the battlefield, twisting in strange and unique patterns. You disembark, followed shortly after by Ahrenia. Intricate carvings and decor line the walls of the volcano, with deep winding chambers and large piles of gold and other treasures dotted around the place. You finally enter a large, open room, where numerous dragons eye you anxiously. An ink-black dragon with a smattering of red drops its head to your level, coming eye to eye with you. "You're the hero that your people spoke of. It's truly an honor." Completely bewildered by the entire situation, you eye Ahrenia, who only nods in encouragement and gestures back to the dragon. As you struggle to find the words, the beast lets out a deep rumble. "My, you're humble as well. There's no fault in accepting praise. I understand how tired you must be, though. Unfortunately, there's little time for rest." "Is there anything I can do at this point..?" "Of course. We know what the Herald has done, and we need a way to stop them. We need time, and we need to stop the Four Gods, and then locate the Herald before it's too late." A million questions surge through your mind. "The Gods..? I've already defeated them. What do you mean we need to stop them?" Everyone in the room gives you a bewildered expression. The large dragon eyes you curiously. "This isn't the time for games. As we speak, the Gods are gaining more power and more reinforcements. Reinforcements provided by the Herald." Slowly, the dragon's words sink in as the room starts to spin. You pinch your brow between your fingers as you let out a shaky breath. Ahrenia gives you a pat on the back and concern washes over her face, but it's only directed at you, not the situation. "I... I... " You start to choke out, trying to grasp the situation. You've... killed the Gods already. "What... do I call you?" The dragon outstretches its wings and stands tall, creating quite an imposing figure. "You may call me by the name your people have given me. Malcs, Leader of Dragons." Your head swirls as the dragon's words hang in the air. You manage to catch a glimpse outdoors as four beams of light shoot up into the sky, each belonging to their own respective gods.

Throne of the Herald

Book I

Unlocked when

Error creating thumbnail: File missing

Impending Darkness Event

is completed once.

Transcription

Bane may be gone, but the storm is ever present. The capital is shrouded in gloom, swarming with unspeakable monsters that lurk in the shadows, seething and scratching. Windows are shuttered on empty streets, and families huddle silently in the dark. One such family has welcomed you into their home – but this is no cordial visit. This is your base of operations. You don’t speak to them or they to you, lest your plans be revealed - or further burden placed upon them to keep your location secret. You know nothing of their lives or identities, save the bleak clues revealed in the sad, tired eyes of their children. They move quietly around the house; whisper to one another; make soup and pray. You want to offer them your condolences for all they have lost, but the words stick in your throat. What’s left to be said? Before you had returned to the town, Malcs had given you a strange talisman. An amulet of stone. You keep it by your bedside, where it draws your gaze occasionally. The Leader of Dragons had presented it to you gravely, as if he would rather not have had to do so. “It is a dangerous path you’re taking - take this. You will need it. You will need me.” You had taken the amulet reverentially, although at first glance there was little to recommend it beyond any ordinary piece of stone. “What is it for?” “It is… protection. Don’t worry about it for now. You will… only be able to use it once. But you will know when the time comes. You will know.” On the journey back to the town, Ahrenia has developed a strange sickness. Wounds from the confrontation with Bane have reopened, and she has been haunted by strange fits, broken up by dragging lethargy. She can barely summon the appetite to eat, but nothing seems to nourish her anyway. She’s hollowed out, weak – far from the heroic figure the townsfolk once revered. Your hosts are too polite to mention it, but it’s clear that her state compounds their anxieties – this is supposed to be their great hero, and here she is, languishing in bed, the last of her energy spent on involuntary shivering. They are, of course, sworn to silence. The town must not know of her presence or her troubled state. They must believe she is well and ready to defend them. Isn’t that the unifying myth the people need – a hero who can carry their hopes and allay their terror? One evening you approach Ahrenia’s sick bed. It’s been almost a week. You need a plan. Push forward, or at least push somewhere, before you succumb to the same fatigue as your fallen friend. She looks up at you from the pillow, her eyes robbed of their usual determined glow, her lips pale. “I know where we can find the Gods”, she croaks, before you can speak. “Where you can find them. I know it’s time – I’m sorry I can’t be part of it.” You hunker down by the bed. “Yes… I wanted to say I was ready. I can see that you are not. But the people need us. I’ve done this before – I can do it again.” She smiles weakly. “Of course you can. But first we need to find the Millennium Tower. And for that you need…” she breaks to cough, wheezing with each inhalation. “You need a little assistance. Help me up please.” You help her raise up to a sitting position. She closes her eyes and breathes in once, deeply, then exhales. Eyes still closed, she begins to speak. “The Millennium Tower is where I… became who I am. It was there I was given my… powers. It was a place where the Four once communed, in the times they were in harmony together. Now they are back, it’s surely to the Tower they will return.” You nod, remembering the arrival of Bane and the strange edifice that rose in the mist beyond. “How do we – how do I find it?” Ahrenia chuckles a little, and sighs. “The path to the Millennium Tower can only be seen by those who are deemed worthy... you know, I can recall it perfectly. It seemed so impossibly old…” Ahrenia begins to cough. You wait until she’s ready to continue. “But I can’t tell you how to get there. So much has changed… I do know, however, that I found the path in the Ancient Sanctuary. It’s at the heart of the labyrinth, in the jungle beyond the town.” You remember hearing talk of this jungle in taverns – and the ale-fuelled, speculative discussions of its malevolent maze. No one, once sober, would commit to the idea that such a place was even real – certainly no one who claimed to be heading into the labyrinth ever returned. “What do we know about the jungle itself? Are there any reports?” “Survivors of the jungle are just that – survivors. Truly, it’s something of a maze itself. The townsfolk suggested that it feels… ‘alive’. Like it’s adapting and twisting itself around those who enter it. As if it either wants to spit you out or swallow you completely.” The notion disturbs you. Where the world has felt malevolent before, at least it feels chaotic – unaware of the horrors inflicted on its people. The idea of entering the belly of some unknown, sentient beast, hacking through the foliage in search of somewhere that might not even exist, isn’t appealing. But what choice do you have? “I’ll do what has to be done. What if I’m not worthy, though? You said the path to the Tower can only be seen by those who are worthy.” “You’re not,” Ahrenia responds, plainly. “Currently, I mean. Sorry. Nothing personal you understand.” “Oh.” “But you can become worthy. This is how I can assist you. Close your eyes.” You obey, settling down on the uncomfortable floor. In the long silence that follows, you’re tempted for a moment to open your eyes… is she still…? Suddenly, a blinding light bursts beyond your eyelids. You dare not open them now. Where are you? You feel yourself – or the world around you – spinning. A sensation of speed, distance, heat. And then – snap. You open your eyes. Ahrenia is on the bed – seemingly asleep. As if nothing has happened. But you can feel that some strange process has occurred. And just like that – you know where you must go. The jungle calls – the labyrinth – and the Ancient Sanctuary. It’s time.

Book II

Unlocked when the Labyrinth Solution is purchased from the Shop.

Transcription

You set out early in the morning, without saying goodbye to the family you’re staying with. You trust that they will care for Ahrenia until she wakes – if she ever does. The jungle is as hot and as deadly as Ahrenia told you it would be. It is completely silent. No birds sing, no monkeys chatter – you don’t see so much as a mosquito. As you hack your way through the thick vines, you feel an odd prickle on the back of your neck, as though something really is watching you – something malevolent, and hungry. Nevertheless, you make your way through the thick foliage unimpeded. It seems that Ahrenia’s power has made you worthy after all. After many long hours, you find your path blocked by a high sandstone wall. This must be the labyrinth. You reach out, intending to climb the vines growing along the wall, but as your hand makes contact with the stone you feel an odd sensation – as though the wall isn’t there at all. Cautiously, you push forward, and fall through the wall onto a neatly tiled stone floor. You pick yourself up and look around. You’re in a labyrinth alright, in some sort of rest stop. A grisly-looking skeleton in the corner tells the tale of the last unfortunate soul to find their way here. Hopefully, you’re better prepared. Before you sits a large stone carving. Surprisingly, it looks to be some sort of map. A special perk for the chosen one, perhaps? The carving shows a birds-eye view of the labyrinth, with a large, square building in the centre. That must be the sanctuary. Assuming the top is north, you trace your finger around the side to try and pinpoint where you entered from – and as you do so, you notice that the labyrinth is full of dead ends, trails that go back on each other, and even hidden passages. Hm. That’s going to be a problem. You turn your attention instead to four figures dotted haphazardly around the map. They are all manner of shapes and sizes, but their colours instantly attract your attention: silver, blue, green, and red. The colours of the gods! A loud, roaring croak rings out, startling you away from the map. It came from just around the corner - that must be monster number one! You check over your weapons and start moving towards it, sparing a last glance at the unfortunate skeleton as you pass. If you don’t want to end up like them, you’d better get moving… After so many weeks holed up and hiding from The Herald’s minions, the rush of battle is a surprisingly welcome break. You dispatch the first monster, a large, squat toad, with ease, using a well-timed barrage of Water Strikes. The second one, some kind of flying lizard, is a little tougher until you realise you can use your bow and arrows to knock it out of the sky. The third one is absolutely monstrous, a plant the size of a house that kept trying to turn you into fertilizer. The fourth monster is the toughest one of all. It’s an enormous snake that winds through the corridors of the labyrinth, venom dripping from its monstrous fangs. You have to watch your step as you battle, constantly dodging its strikes, letting it tire itself out before you close the distance to fight back. At long last, it falls. Exhausted, you make your way to the nearest rest point. After each monster fell, a brightly coloured path appeared on the map, and this one should be no different. There! A river of golden ink bubbles up and, as if by magic, crawls a trail towards the Ancient Sanctuary. You’ve done it! With no time to spare, you rush through the labyrinth. Right, left, right again, over a crumbling wall, through a tunnel, and left one more time – there it is! Before you stands a humble, unassuming stone building. Above the entrance, five enormous gems glow – one for each monster you defeated. With a sigh of relief, you stroll towards the Sanctuary door. Soon you’ll have the clues you need to find The Herald, and then you can start a new adventure. You’re so caught up in your imaginings that you fail to notice the vine slowly wrapping around your leg until it pulls, sharply, and hoists you up in the air. You yell in surprise as the world turns upside down. The vine snaps, whip-like, and hurls you into the Sanctuary wall with a crash. You get to your feet, clutching your head, and see an enormous, humanoid figure sprout up out of the ground. Her hair is a crown of bright red thorns stretching all down her back. Her legs end in titanic roots, and her body is covered in writhing vines as thick as your chest. “Champion!” the Guardian of the Sanctuary calls out to you in a voice that shakes the very walls around you. “I am Morellia, Guardian of the Sanctuary. None may enter here!” “I am chosen!” you reply, trying your best to stay upright. “By Ahrenia!” Morellia pauses, vines circling lazily through the air. “Then you must prove that you are worthy. Are you prepared for battle?” You look down at yourself – covered in venomous spines and bits of plant matter, armour ripped to shreds… not to mention your boots, covered in the visceral remains of the giant snake. You sigh. It’s not like you’re getting any readier. “I’m prepared,” you yell. “Let’s do this!”

Book III

Unlocked when

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Ancient Sanctuary

is completed once.

Transcription

“Stop!” The Guardian of the Sanctuary holds out one enormous hand, covered in greenery. You stop slicing at the vine constricting your leg as it withdraws back into the ground. “You have proven yourself a mighty warrior. You are worthy, and may pass into the Ancient Sanctuary unhindered.” Before you can say “Thanks,” the Guardian sinks back into the earth, leaving the courtyard as pristine as it was when you first entered – with a few more leaves scattered about. You breathe a sigh of exhaustion and turn to enter the Sanctuary again – a little more carefully this time. ​​The ruins of the Ancient Sanctuary are thick with moss. Strange creepers climb its crumbled skeleton and twist upwards as if in prayer. The air is damp and pungent, heavy with silence. You step forward, twisted roots of long-dead trees cracking under foot and plunging into the soft soil underfoot. You are drawn to the strange, shapeless carvings that adorn the outer corridor of the Sanctuary – not quite recognisable figures crawl and dance across the entryway. They’re certainly not Vorloran, but they’re not quite anything else either. Unsettling, yes – but not entirely unfamiliar. You duck through the narrow archway and inside the Sanctuary itself. The remains of a huge hallway stand before you. Ravaged by exposure to the elements and wildly overgrown though it may be, you breathe in and close your eyes, trying to get a sense of its past. You can sense the grandeur of it – this has been a place of great action, intrigue, worship, magic and destruction. There is much to explore. Lining the walls are huge carvings of yet more strange figures – some of them appearing in acts of worship, others simply staring out at you with expressionless eyes. You stumble a little and look down into the rubble, where you spy a half-buried relic. But you’re not here for treasure. You continue further in. Smashed mirrors adorn the walls, and the floor is scattered with broken glass. A long table – perhaps an altar – is broken in two against the far wall, each half gripped by ivy as if torn in some long-forgotten quarrel. Your eyes return to the figures above – one very large figure towers over the place where the altar once stood. You look a little closer. Can it be? No – surely not… You move closer. A large and powerful figure. Imposing of stance and commanding of eye. But there’s more. Its eyes are two purple gems. You look back at the other carvings. Smaller figures, worshippers – are these the people of the Gods? Is this Sanctuary theirs? It all makes sense now – the sense of great power emanating from the place. Did they use this power, was this its source? Or did they grant it with their power, and were their worshippers harnessing it for their own world-altering purposes? What happened to them all? There is an almost-hidden alcove to the west of the hall. You breathe in deeply and slide through a gap between crumbled walls. Bursting through, you stumble over an enormous frame. Leaning it against a stone pillar, you dust it down and fix it with a studying eye. It seems to depict the sanctuary itself, not in the lush green of its current overgrown state, but in blotches of blood red and steely grey. A battle – or perhaps the battle was already won, and this is the aftermath. Bodies everywhere – some weeping and running. Most of them are crumpled and lifeless. You back away from the visceral horror of it, stumbling over relics and sending a rusted chalice rolling across the floor. You push back through the gap and stagger into the main hall – dizzy, you look up to the eastern wall. Suddenly, you see it in full. The sheer size of the carving meant its meaning eluded you when you first entered, but now you can see all of it – huge stretched out wings reach to each end of the hall, framing terrifying claws and a gigantic, malevolent head, filled with teeth. It’s an enormous dragon. Streaks of lightning are depicted in great electric slashes, and in the distance, a tower. Not just any tower – the Millennium Tower. Perhaps this carving is a clue to its location. You step back and scan the far walls of the Sanctuary. A broader picture begins to form. The tower seems to be protected by the great dragon, which resides in a place blasted by storms. You have heard tell of such a place before – a whole region besieged by lightning. Stories told of a great beast who guarded the realms beyond. Before the dragon is a lake of blood red. The primitive daubings seem to suggest great heat. It’s well known – and much warned about – that there is a great flow of lava coming down from the mountains to the west of Melvor, pooling into lakes of fire. Perhaps the tundra beyond might lead to the land of storms. You turn to leave the Sanctuary, filled with new purpose. Before you exit, you look back at the figure above the altar. Its purple eyes seem to glow.

Book IV

Unlocked when

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Lightning Region

is completed once.

Transcription

The lava lake stretches out before you in all its scalding splendour. The molten surface bubbles up thickly and bursts, spraying flecks of boiling liquid. The whole landscape seems to glower disapprovingly. It’s not a far distance across, and a much quicker journey than going around, but you frown at the task ahead. It’s difficult to think; difficult to breathe in this heat. A primitive path of rocks cuts through the lake, leading to the far shore. You can gracefully step between some of them; others require leaps of faith. Finding a rhythm is key. Listening to the beating of your heart, taking your time, waiting for the exact right moment to push forward. At the other side, a barren tundra awaits. Nothing stirs for a while, and your thoughts return to Ahrenia. You feel as though she’s watching you; as if a link has been forged between you that cannot be broken. What magic has she instilled in you to guide you on this path? Ahrenia is a hero among heroes, but perhaps she has been able to transfer some of her talent to you. What impossible powers did the Herald grant her, and at what cost? What was given to her – and what was taken away? A sudden rumble interrupts your thoughts. You are nearing the region of storms. Everything is unsettled here: a place of legend, where conflicting forms of magic stir up and smoulder together, upsetting the atmosphere and bursting forth in wild electrical disturbances. At that moment, a great streak of lightning splits the darkened sky. The air buzzes with menace. You recall the great carving in the Ancient Sanctuary of the great dragon, aloft on a cloud of electric rage, its wings outstretched in fury. Uneasy, you hasten your step. Weird, winged creatures buzz and swarm in the air, a hum of grim potential. The rumbling is growing louder now. Beams of light scream across the sky. One of those beams seems to twist and turn suddenly, barrelling towards you. It skids left and right, weaving through the storm clouds and down, down, down into focus. A skeletal insect, crackling with electricity and illuminated by a sickening glow. You steady your weapons. They won’t be safe against such a creature. You quickly summon a simple energy reverse spell; crude magic but enough to destabilise a creature harnessing lightning without much grace. The insect creature bursts into a bolt of lightning and disappears. You look up. In its place, you see an eye bearing down on you with interest. An eye as big as the sun. It blinks. The dragon rises up as you step backwards, trying to get some sense of scale. It feels bigger than the sky. Billowing from its flanks is a sickeningly familiar black mist. At least now you know that you are on the right path. You recall the same mist that choked the capital when Bane came. Those eerie, dark, choking tendrils, robbing you of all warmth. The same mist that followed The Herald. You recall what you were warned by the mysterious robed figure: “Do not let the mist catch you.” It might be a bit late for that. The dragon sweeps down so its huge nose is close to your own. It unhinges its enormous jaw and yawns expansively, engulfing you in hot, stinking breath. Then, to your surprise, it speaks. “You may not pass, traveller.” Its voice is tired and ancient, but not without a deep menace. This is a voice that knows you are tiny and trifling, but will crush you without a thought nevertheless. And it has a job to do. The job is death. The death, somewhat inconveniently, is yours. You steel yourself. The amulet Malc’s gave you hangs silently round your neck, still. It has nothing to add. Ahrenia, walk with me, you think. Lend me your valour. “I am not here to fight you, dragon. I must see what lies beyond your realm.” The great beast sighs, a great, hot sigh of contempt. “You are at the gateway to the Outer Regions. No one may pass beyond here.” It cocks its enormous head at you, curiously. “I know not what makes you think the rule does not apply to you.” You shrug. “I suppose I’m not very interested in rules that don’t seem to serve a purpose.” The dragon fixes you with its glassy eye. You stare him down. Then it bursts into laughter. Raucous, deep laughs from the pit of its enormous belly. “Oh dear! The purpose is to keep you alive, foolish mortal! And to protect what is not yours to see.” The dragon lashes out suddenly. An ill-judged swipe of a paw. You roll easily to dodge it, and the momentum leaves you standing face to face with a burst of raw magic. It’s not much, but enough to startle the creature as you raise your arms and form a protective sigil. It’s well timed as the dragon breathes a huge ball of flame that completely engulfs you. Your protection won’t last long. Ahrenia, I can feel your presence, you think. Please. Hold your nerve. The dragon crackles and leaps through the sky, weaving a complicated lightning pattern that burns the ground. You feel something beyond your control welling up inside you. Ahrenia, now! A great rush of energy bursts forth, countering the creature’s own attack. The lightning reverses, streaking up the dragon’s body and blasting it with a surge of electricity. It bursts into flames, howling in pain. “I will stop you!” it snarls. “I am Ra'Zu, Lord of the Skies! You don’t belong in the Outer Regions! Your presence… it’s wrong!” Another wave of the spell crashes through you, blasting the dragon back. It shrieks and twists. Steadying itself, it breathes in. You see it coming: a final blast to knock you into hell. You raise your head to meet it. Let it make its own grave. The dragon exhales, a wall of fire and spite big enough to consume a city. “Ahrenia be my shield!” you cry out. The dragon ignites. At the same moment, great forks of lightning from the sky tear through its scales, and the flaming body collapses to the ground. The earth rumbles and shakes where it falls. You are tossed helplessly across the rubble and come to a rolling stop several feet away. Panting, you look up at the sky. The storm clouds have cleared. Thin, grey light begins to seep in, revealing the path forward. The Outer Regions lie ahead. This time, there really is no going back.

Book V

Unlocked when

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Lightning Region

is completed once.

Transcription

Days have passed since your encounter with Ra’zu. You expected to find answers in The Outer Regions – instead, all you’ve found is devastation. If anyone ever did live here, they’re long gone now. Stone ruins scarred by lightning jut out of the grey mud, the last remaining testament to a long-lost civilisation. A lonely bell, still sitting in the tower of a ruined temple, dings listlessly as a gust of wind cuts through the stillness of the swamp. You shudder – is this the fate that awaits Melvor, should you fail to stop The Herald and their minions? It’s hard to know if you’re making any progress, or just meandering in circles. How would you know? It all looks the same. You can only put one foot in front of the other and let time slip away completely. There is only the here and now. And hope… always hope. One morning, you notice something interesting about the way the sun rises in this region. It's as if time simply stops for a while, and the sun is stationary for about an hour. As you watch this spectacle, you notice something different on the edge of the horizon. The gentlest light, calling you on. Could this be the path forward? You only have your instincts to work with. You decide to redirect your journey towards it. As you draw nearer, the fog thickens. You feel your heartbeat increasing. A sense of victory that you are perhaps breaking through – but also dread. But there is no time for apprehension now. The fog is now too thick to even see your hand in front of you. But you press on. Finally, the fog starts to clear. Something swims into view. Cliffs seem to rise up above. You find yourself up to your ankles in water. A wide lake, but shallow enough to cross on foot. You press on, the icy cold lapping at your ankles. Emerging from the lake, you are faced with only one choice of path – a narrow opening in the cliff ahead. You scramble across the shore, pebbles scattering beneath your feet. You reach the mouth of the cave, and quickly duck inside. There must be a way through. You slow your pace as the cave darkens ahead of you. In the pitch black you find yourself groping ahead, navigating blind and with only the cold grip of rocks and debris to guide you, no sound but the hollow drip drip from the roof of the cave echoing ahead. It feels as if you are heading deeper and into a much larger cavern. At last, a shaft of light from above appears ahead of you. It casts eerie shadows along the walls, and you have a sense at last of the vastness of the space around you. And now, ever so faintly, new sounds. Scuttering noises seem to emanate from all around. You move forward, trepidation rising and strangling your breath. The thin light glances off silvery webs draped across the stones surrounding you. Something moves in the corner of your eye. You turn in horror. Three enormous spiders crawl forward. You scream and reach for your blade. Quick as a flash they surround you, scuttling in ghastly formation. You whirl around, slashing wildly. The first spider falls, but as you pull your sword from its back, a second knocks you to the ground. Panting, you thrust the sword upward, taking the second in the chest. The legs of the third are pinning you down, but you swipe hard to catch its back leg, splitting it in two. The spider collapses backward and you roll forward, cutting a second leg and planting the blade in its chest. You take a moment to catch your breath and wait for the twitching to cease before pulling your sword out. Getting to your feet, you wipe dust from yourself and begin to edge towards the shaft of light. You see a great tangle ahead where multiple cobwebs knit together – or is it one large web? It seems too vast to be the work of even three of the spiders you’ve just defeated… Distracted, your footing slips. A sudden sensation of great depth. You’re falling. Suddenly, something catches you. Clouds of dust fly up as you tumble backwards. You’ve stumbled into a web of your own. A vast, sticky web. You thrash, desperate to escape, but that just makes it worse. Great clumps of sodden spider-silk choke you as you cry out. Suddenly, you hear a deep, rumbling vibration nearby, followed by a blood-curdling screech. You turn your head as more web stretches across your face, obscuring your view. Unfortunately, it’s not enough to blind you to the terrifying sight of her approach, her long legs in diabolical motion. She does not scuttle – she is steady and regal in her approach. She is enormous. Her six eyes fix upon you. The spider queen! “What brings you heeeeere, little one?” “Mmm-mmf! Mmmmf!” The Spider Queen rolls her eyes – it’s quite a sight – and slices through the web binding you with a single swipe of her massive claw. You tumble to the ground, gasping for air. “Little one. You must leave the way you came, or I’m afraid I must destroy you.” “I seek the Millennium Tower,” you say, breathlessly, “To save my people.” The Spider Queen tilts her head to the side and chitters. You think she’s trying to laugh. “But this is my home, little one. My dark prison. They said it must be thus. Sent me here, in the dark, with nothing but poor little ones to eat.” “You can’t just leave?” The Spider Queen chitters again. “You think that’s how the world works? How delightful… none of us can simply leave. Not without their say-so.” “I believe we have some say in what our lives look like. We make choices.” “Funny how those choices of yours have led you here, little one! And now you’re going to die!” she leans forward, taunting, her hot breath on your cheek. “Tell me, little one. Are you happy with your choice?” As the queen bends forward, gnashing her fangs, something catches your eye. The dark expanse of her back has a strange marking. It almost resembles a face, etched out in green. But its eyes are not green. The twin orbs staring back at you are quite clearly purple. “Wait!” you say. “What is it?” The Spider Queen smiles. “It’s not polite to keep a lady waiting for dinner…” “That marking on your back – what is it?” The Spider Queen’s whole expression changes, and she snarls: “Do not speak of it.” “It’s The Herald, isn’t it? Is that who cursed you?” “Do not SPEAK OF IT!” the Spider Queen howls, clutching at her head. You take the opportunity to grab your sword – and it’s a good job you did, because when she uncovers her many, many eyes, each and every one is filled with rage…

Book VI

Unlocked when

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Lair of the Spider Queen

is completed once.

Transcription

The Spider Queen collapses, clutching at her wounds. You move towards the exit, when she extends one trembling claw towards you. “Wait…little one…” She says, “The path to the Millennium Tower…” You turn back, interested to hear what she has to say. She struggles to speak as the cave shudders around her – you must have dislodged the mouldering wooden supports in the fight. “You must… seek… the Necromancers. Dispel their curse. But beware the –“ Her final words are drowned out as a great rumbling sound shakes the cave. Hundreds of spiders spill from the crevices in the rocks and scuttle towards you. You brace for another fight, but they continue on, fleeing through whatever path they can find. The Spider Queen has curled in on herself, dead. Whatever she was trying to warn you of will have to wait – you need to run! As you dash towards the exit, a colossal stalactite drops from the ceiling and falls to the ground with a crash, blocking the doorway. You whirl around, searching for an alternative. There! The larger spiders are cramming themselves through a crack in the rock. You wade through the sea of arachnid bodies and wedge your sword into the crevice. You push with all your might, hoping against hope that your makeshift lever will hold. There’s a hideous scraping sound as the wall collapses, revealing a narrow tunnel. There’s no time to wonder where it leads – you dash through, followed by a half-dozen spiders. They scuttle away into the darkness, leaving you to press forward alone. You can’t see a thing in the cloying darkness of the tunnel. You have the sense that you’re moving upwards, and as the narrow tunnel becomes wider you feel a cool breeze on your skin. Beneath your feet, rough stone becomes carefully laid slabs of rock, and before you know it you see light ahead, peeking through some sort of grate. A way out! You clamber up a helpfully placed ladder and cautiously push up on the grate with a screech of rusted metal. After hours in the gloom of the Spider Queen’s cave, the afternoon sunlight almost blinds you, but when your eyes adjust, you’re treated to the sight of a beautifully kept city street. The very paving stones seem to shine in the afternoon sun. Planters full of rainbow-coloured flowers hang from romantic balconies and window boxes. Market stalls selling all manner of exciting goods line the roadside, but all is quiet – perhaps the people are busy elsewhere? Cautiously, you climb out and start to explore. You fill your canteen at a quietly babbling courtyard fountain. You wander down alleyways and peek into windows, but there are still no signs of the people living here. There are, however, plenty of supplies. The stores are filled with fruits and vegetables of every variety – and there’s not a speck of dust on them. Since there’s nobody around, you feel justified in taking a few bites. Then you take a few more. While you’re here, you might as well shove some lemons in your backpack, too. Before you know it, the sun is setting. The streets sparkle with light as you take a healthy chomp out of a fresh, juicy apple. You could get used to this – although you can’t help but wonder where everyone else has gone. You soon get your answer. As the sun sinks behind the city’s spires, you hear a noise that sends a shiver down your spine - a bestial sound that suddenly seems to echo all around you. You get to your feet, hair standing on end, and prepare to fight. The first beast comes racing out of the shadows to your left, teeth bared. You reel back and its sharp claws just barely skim your chestplate, leaving a ragged, dark slice in your armour. Shadow magic? Before you have time to think, a second creature – this one humanoid – lurches forward from the alleyway in front of you and howls a guttural war cry. Without hesitating you lunge toward it with your sword. You strike – and its head falls to the ground, splatting into a shadowy stain on the cobbled streets. Then, as you watch in horror, the shadows surrounding the creature’s head slowly coalesce back into shape. It growls, and staggers towards you once more. They’re invulnerable! Your sword is useless! Panicked, you back up into the building. Perhaps you can barricade yourself inside? That’s when you notice that the solid oak bolt from the door is lying halfway across the room, snapped in half. Someone obviously tried that before… and failed. Glass goes flying across the room as the first creature jumps directly through the large shop window. You fumble for your wand and fling a Fire Strike in its general direction, hoping against hope that magic will work where steel has failed. It doesn’t – in fact, the ball of flame completely misses – but the beast shrinks back with an ear-splitting shriek of agony, and as the blaze lights up the room, it crumbles into dust. Of course! The best way to banish a shadow is light! Thinking fast, you haul down the curtain pole from the window and wrap the fabric tight around before dunking it in the flame. You run outside, brandishing your makeshift torch, and the gathering shadow-creatures pull back, hissing in pain. You’re safe, for now, but your torch won’t last for long. You have to get out of here! You continue along the main road through the city, beating back shadowy creatures whenever they get too close. They come in all shapes and sizes, but they all have one thing in common; they’re angry, and they’re angry with you. Perhaps you should have left the fruit alone… or maybe they’ve mistaken you for one of the former citizens. As you push through the waves of snarling shadows, you wonder what the people of this city could possibly have done to inspire such hatred…

Book VII (I)

Unlocked when

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Cursed Forest

is completed once.

Transcription

When the sun finally rises, you’ve left the Afflicted City and its monstrous shadows far behind you. The road ahead is strewn with debris from those who weren’t so lucky. Clothes, weapons, and other long-abandoned possessions litter the roadside. To begin with, you hope that they might just have been discarded for a faster getaway – but then you come across the upturned carriages, windows smashed and paintwork smeared with bloody stains. They’re piled up in the centre of the road, a last, failed defence against the marauding shadows. It seems that you’re the last person to leave the City alive in a long while. You check your pack – yes, the lemons you ‘borrowed’ have moulded into dust overnight. At least the water you gathered is still potable. Suddenly, a shriek cuts through the silence. “Somebody! Help!” The scream came from the woods lining the roadside. You run towards the sound, reaching for your sword. As you cross the threshold of the forest, the air turns cold. You look around frantically for the person who screamed. “Hello? Is anyone there?” You call and get no response. The dense foliage around you seems to dampen all sound – you can’t even hear the birds. Was that really a human scream? Perhaps you’re only hearing things. You turn back to the road, intent on continuing on your journey – but the road is gone, replaced by a wall of trees, crisscrossed with thick, ancient vines. You hear a rustle behind you and whirl about again. Behind you, where moments ago was nothing but thick forest, is a dainty, well-trodden path leading deeper into the trees. More magic. With a sigh, you hoist your pack up on your shoulders and follow the trail. Hours pass. The forest has new tricks at every turn – innocuous looking vines that reach up to grab your ankles as you step across them, tree trunks that disappear when you try to sit on them for a rest – every little thing hides some new, more malicious secret. The cosy looking path quickly devolved into rough terrain, and then back into the plain dirt of the forest floor. Now, the way forward is covered with thick, waist-high briars. The way you came has been replaced with trees squeezed together so tightly, you doubt you could even slide a piece of paper past them. You’re well and truly trapped. You consider your options. You could simply slice your way through with your trusty axe, but you still don’t know where you’re supposed to be going. There are no helpful signposts reading ‘Necromancers this way!’ - and even if there were, it would probably just be another of the forest’s tricks. Your first step is to get your bearings. The thick canopy above makes it impossible to see the position of the sun, so you’ll have to get up above the trees to get a sense of direction. Ensuring that your backpack is secure, you head to a particularly sturdy looking tree and clamber up… and up… This tree looked a lot shorter from the ground – but you’re certainly not going to look down and check! Gritting your teeth, you climb higher. The branches are thinning out now. It can’t be that far to the top. At last, you poke your head out above the leaves and take a breath of cool, night air. You must have spent even longer in the forest than you imagined. Below you, the canopy spreads out as far as the eye can see in all directions, like a great, green blanket. You can’t even see the road you came from, or the spires of the Afflicted City. It’s like this place is a world of its own. Just as you’re about to give up and climb back down, you realise that you can still see the stars, and grin. They’re exactly where you expected them to be – whatever strange magic controls this forest doesn’t extend all the way to the sky. All those hours spent studying Astrology are about to pay off! You think the road you were on went east and then north, curving around the forest. You spend a moment triangulating – there’s Arachi, Iridan, Vale – but then you feel a strange prickle on the back of your neck, as though something is vying for your attention. Half-suspecting another of the forest’s tricks, you manoeuvre yourself around – and there, lighting up the sky in front of you, is Qimican, the sign of the summoner. It’s brighter than you’ve ever seen it before, and suddenly, you know that it marks the path you must take. You swiftly clamber back down to the forest floor. It’s pitch black, and you can almost hear the plants shifting around you, plotting their next move. With a renewed sense of purpose, you level your sword and begin to hack through the briars around you, pushing onwards relentlessly, even as their thorns snatch at your skin and wind their way around your arms and ankles. Chop, chop, chop! It seems as though the forest has got the message. After only an hour or so, you can see moonlight poking through the trees, then, the bright lights of the stars. You’re on track! You keep chopping, and soon you find yourself at the edge of the forest. Wiping the sweat from your brow you stumble out of the treeline and collapse on the ground for a well-earned break. Before you is a vast, foreboding valley, illuminated by the light of the moon overhead. It’s surrounded on all sides by tall, dark mountains that seem to bathe the whole valley in shadow. You can’t make out any details, but it looks to be full of stone structures. Houses, maybe? Odd, green lights flicker through the windows. You creep forward to get a closer look, and that’s when you see it. At the end of the Valley, silhouetted in the moonlight, is a palatial ruined structure jutting out of the rock. More green lights are gathered around the base, as though leading you forward. That must be your next stop – the home of the Necromancers.

Book VII (II)

Unlocked when

Error creating thumbnail: File missing

Cursed Forest

is completed once.

Transcription

The moon shines brightly overhead, casting a silvery glow over the valley. It’s fixed at midnight – although it’s surely taken you an hour or so to arrive here, at the entrance of the ruined palace. Those green lights you saw weren’t lights at all, it turns out, but the souls of the dead. Thousands of them, trapped here in the valley by some uncanny magic. As you enter the palace grounds, a few of them float lazily towards you, eager to drain the life from your body. You clamber up onto a ruined wall, out of the spirits’ reach – although that doesn’t stop them from crowding around you, reaching out their ghostly hands in hungry desperation. Sorry, you think - no dinner today! You move quickly and quietly along the top of the wall, aiming for the circular stone structure in the centre of the palace ruins. It’s the least dilapidated part of the building – it’s even retained the iron bones of what would have been some kind of gigantic glass dome. You swing elegantly up and drop through the supports onto the ground below. Inside, the ruin is silent. The ever-present moon beams through the ruined ceiling, casting long, dark shadows across the floor. You move cautiously towards the centre of the room, where you can see some kind of rock sat upon a stone dais. You could almost believe that it simply fell out of the sky – unlike the rest of the décor, it’s rough and unshaped, as though it had just rolled down one of the mountains and settled here. As you draw closer, though, you notice something interesting. What you’d taken to be an odd dent on the front of the rock is a deliberately carved niche, and what’s more, the shape looks surprisingly familiar. You reach into your Backpack and feel around for the rough-hewn edges of one of your Summoning stones before pulling it out. Cautiously, you insert it into the niche and back off. The stone begins to wobble, and then starts to glow brighter and brighter, until you’re forced to turn away. The floor beneath your feet begins to shake, and there’s a hideously loud scrape of stone on stone. The light dims, and when you look back the dais has moved backwards to reveal a spiral staircase leading deep underground. You take a deep breath. Could this be the Necromancers’ lair? You grab the Summoning stone and head down the stairs, keeping a wary eye out for any hidden monsters as you go. You’ve had quite enough surprises on this adventure already. You exit into a small, dark chamber, lit by the flickering light of a few enchanted candles. As your eyes adjust to the gloom, you pick out the faint shadows of four tall, robed figures, each holding a heavy stone tome – and breathe a sigh of relief as you realise they’re only statues. For now, it seems you’re alone down here. You grab a dribbly candle from the wall and investigate the statues. They’re carefully carved, and strikingly individual – they must have been modeled on real Necromancers from the past. Each statue has its mouth slightly open, as though reading from the enormous books in their hands. Upon closer inspection, you can make out faint lines of writing carved into each tome. Four words: “Dinok… Faas… Suleyk… Loost!” As soon as you complete the incantation, all the candles in the room blow out and you’re plunged into near-complete darkness. The only light is a faint glow from somewhere near your feet. You look down and try to understand what you’re seeing. Some kind of occult symbol is carved into the stone floor and as you watch, it begins to glow, ominously. Whispers crowd your head – unintelligible, but increasingly urgent. You strain to make out what they are saying, but you don’t understand. You almost jump out of your skin when you feel the cold, bony hand on your shoulder. A grim, rattling breath sets your hair on end. “Summoner…” hisses the thing behind you, “Why have you awakened me?” You whirl around, hand already at your sword. “Who are you?” You cry out, and a robed figure steps from the shadows. Its face is a grim skull, with two pinpricks of green light for eyes. “I am Fiozor, last of the Necromancers, sealed within these walls to prevent the calamity which befell my people from ever occurring again. Now, Summoner – speak! How came you here, and what do you want from me?” You explain everything – the Dark Mist, Bane, your quest to find The Herald before they strike again. The Necromancer watches, expressionless. “I was told you were imprisoned by a terrible curse, and that lifting it will reveal the path to The Herald,” you finish. “I am indeed cursed,” the Necromancer intones, “ – and so too, are you. This land is shrouded in darkness, an attempt to prevent interlopers from discovering the art of Summoning and using it for their own ends.” The Necromancer turns away. “Although it seems that some knowledge has escaped. The very fact that you stand here before me means that you are familiar with Summoning magic – and so I must strike you down, before it is too late.” “But why?” You exclaim. “Didn’t you hear me? The Herald must be stopped!” The Necromancer shakes his head. “Some magic is too dangerous to survive. My people were naïve. When we first discovered Summoning, we found it to be a waste of mana. Why conjure up capricious beasts when you command legions of the undead to bend to your every whim? “So we sold our knowledge to the highest bidder – a nation with vast reserves of mana, who eagerly set about summoning spirits for all manner of menial tasks. It was all innocent at first, but they became greedy. Soon, they were summoning entire armies, and laying waste to the lands around them. “But the greater calamity was still to come. These people paid no heed to the spirits’ wants and needs. They sought only control. We warned them, but…” The Necromancer gestures to the ruins around you. “They didn’t care. Their apathy was to be their undoing. The spirits they had tormented for their own gain grew discontent, and one day, they simply rose up against their summoners. The city you passed through is all that remains of their great civilisation – and this lonely ruin is all that remains of mine. Do you understand?” You hesitate. Can Summoning really lead to such destruction? The Necromancer does not wait for a reply. “All knowledge of Summoning must be destroyed, lest history repeat itself. Now – will you accept your fate?” You think of the empty, Afflicted City. The stark ruins of the Necromancers’ Palace. The endless wasteland of the Outer Regions, and the grim creatures that live here. You can’t let that happen to Melvor – and that’s why you have to fight. You raise your sword and assume a fighting stance. The Necromancer sighs. “Very well, then,” he says, and begins to charge a glowing magic orb. “Prepare to die…”

Book VIII

Unlocked when

Error creating thumbnail: File missing

Necromancers Palace

is completed once.

Transcription

You rise up, panting, looking down at the crumpled robes of the fallen Necromancer. How strange to see the weaver of life and death, now lifeless, unable to resist an eternal sleep of his own. He lies pitifully in the dust, surrounded by a ghastly filigree of his victims: behind him, an altar of bone, adorned with skulls. You notice a strange glow emanating from the altar. A pool of light appears and forms into the shape of a glowing golden orb. You reach out tentatively, unsure whether to accept its invitation. Before you can change your mind, it seems to grab your hands, pulling them towards it. You grasp the sphere, and the dark room is flooded with brilliant light. You have finally defeated the necromancer and lifted the curse from the midnight valley. As you looked around, you could see that the moonlit darkness that surrounded it was fading. In its place are beautiful mountains bathed in the sun's golden rays. You now know where you must go. Your surroundings are ever changing. The light fades into a perfect white sky. Soon you are high in the clouds, atop the Golden Mountains. They seem to stretch to infinity, a stunning range of glowing peaks blasted with sunlight. Wind whistles in the crags, and in the distance, you see the black, jagged outline of the Millennium Tower. Your final destination is within sight – it doesn’t feel quite real to be this close. There is no time to feel victorious. A screeching sound in the near distance stalls your triumph. You reach out to steady your blade. Something is close, and carried on vast wings, by the sound of it. A sudden streak past the corner of your eye. You spin around and are faced with a long-limbed cloud of bony, winged creatures. They split and dive in opposite directions as you pull at your sword. The first harpy swoops in, and its massive talons snag you immediately. You stumble to the ground but manage to catch it with a wild stab. It howls in protest, before a second harpy snatches you from the ground, dragging you high into the air. You thrust the blade into its soft belly, bringing it crashing towards the ground. You roll away, helpless, into the grip of another creature, pulling it back down to the ground in a pile of dust and feathers. Back on your feet, you slash wildly at the harpy, and then another. They are beginning to back off, wary of a lunch that insists on putting up such a fight. With a bitter shriek, they tear away into the mist, set on more acquiescent prey. Mildly scratched and more than a little perturbed, you continue down your path towards the tower. The altitude begins to plummet, and the clouds darken as you draw closer. The tower, once miniature on the horizon, grows bigger and blacker, enveloping the world around you and draining the golden warmth of the mountains, replacing it with gathering mist. Your mood is similarly bleak. You feel increasingly robbed of your confidence, as if nothing will ever be right again. The tower is playing tricks on you, and you feel a loosening grip on your own bearings as the tendrils of mist swirl around you. Just as you feel your feet begging you to turn back a gargantuan iron gate looms out of the mist before you. You feel cold and disorientated. As you move closer you notice bodies – bodies everywhere. The shattered skeletons of other adventurers who have passed before. You feel sick. They were just like you. They took a dangerous path, and they paid the price. What noble aims did they have? They took every risk you took, learned everything you have learned. How can you look upon their fallen bodies with anything other than despair? And- wait… was that… wait. Did that body…move? One of the bodies visibly twitches. A ranger, hand-crafted crossbow at the ready. A sprawling limb stretches out and she rises to her feet. Steadily, another body begins to rise. A figure in some sort of magical armour tinted with deep blue . The shattered gold-encrusted armour of a fallen knight behind him begins to knit together, and the crumpled knight, too, comes to standing. His heavy, golden blade is soaked with blood. The reanimated figures stare at you, dead-eyed. Well, what’s one more death to a corpse? You lunge skilfully, ducking their meagre attacks. Their fighting is clumsy and uncoordinated. The ranger fumbles her bow and staggers as if drunk. The wizard’s pale, gnarled hands and long staff can only summon the most desultory of sparks. The knight stumbles blindly behind his golden armour shell. Exasperated, you dance nimbly between them, dashing the ranger’s bow against the rocks, ducking under the wizard’s feeble attacks and pulling the knight’s sword from his sheath. They crash into one another in the melee. Once defeated, you look upon the spoils of battle. The ranger’s crossbow looks sturdy and useful, a mix of dark wood and ruddy metal. It’s surprisingly light, but lacking ammunition. Her armour is made of some sort of unusually tough material, infused with emeralds. The knight’s armour seems heavier, weighted with thick bands of gold over an unknown base metal of great strength. It matches the enormous gold-trimmed blade, its bloody tip a harbinger of its grim potential. The wizard’s staff has a blue coloured orb sitting on top of it, surrounded by a golden sphere for what seems like protection. Its stem is dotted with intricately carved patterns of no doubt magical significance. Wielding the staff, you can feel an immediate sense of power coming from the blue orb. As you hold it, the orb begins to slightly glow. Your confidence swells. You gesture to the other corpses with the staff, lest they too rise from the ground and take their turn. “Come and try me!” you cry, laughing madly. But the laughter catches in your throat. An enormous groan behind you, and the gates begin to swing back. You turn to see a fantastic giant, as big as the gates themselves. Oh no…

Book IX

Unlocked when Guardian of the Herald is defeated once.

Transcription

The Giant Guardian falls to the ground with a crash. You are victorious. Before you stands the Millennium Tower… and the end of your journey. Within its crumbling walls, The Herald awaits. The Tower’s enormous wooden doors creak open as you approach. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever waits beyond, and then step cautiously into the Tower itself. When you see the Tower’s interior, you gasp in awe. Some great battle has clearly taken place here. Fragments of enormous columns – the Tower’s supports, you guess – are scattered haphazardly across the central room, and yet the Tower stands. You feel a wave of disorientation wash over you as you realise you’re unable to tell whether the damage happened millennia in the past, or just moments before you entered. Warily, you move up the spiral staircase in the centre of the room, testing each step to see if it will still support your weight. They hold. The interior wall of the Tower is decorated with a vast variety of paintings, murals, and carvings, all impossible to place. In one, a godlike being strikes down a gigantic, shining beast, the like of which you’ve never even heard of, let alone encountered. In another, a tiny figure stands before five enormous thrones, inhabited by – yes, you realise, those must be the gods. You continue to climb, up to the second floor of the tower, where the staircase ends in an opulently decorated antechamber. You look up, and for a moment, you think you’ve climbed high enough to stand among the stars – but you look again and see that the ceiling is speckled with a thousand tiny holes to let light through. It glitters across the faces of gold-clad warriors, standing frozen on the gilded walls. You feel a flicker of memory stir in the back of your mind and feel, suddenly, as though the statuesque figures are not statues at all, but dear old friends. You catch yourself in the midst of reaching out to touch one, to make sure she isn’t real. Their faces seem eerily familiar. You swallow your unease and turn towards the door leading to the central chamber. This must be where The Herald is lurking. You check your weapons one last time, and venture inside. The central chamber is larger than you ever could have imagined. You can’t help but look up as you enter, but the ceiling seems to stretch miles into the sky. A vertiginous wave courses through you as you realise you’ve seen this place before and felt just the same. You look around, seeing the chamber with new eyes. This is where it all began. This is where your life changed forever. Before you stand four thrones – the thrones of the gods. Empty. Where are they? You search, heart in your chest, and spot a fifth, still greater throne, looming behind the others. On that throne sits a tall, dark figure, wreathed in shadow. All you can see of their face is a pair of bright, piercing eyes. The Herald. Frozen in awe, you can do nothing but watch as The Herald stands and floats down towards you. “Well, well, well. The hero returns at last.” They intone, dryly. You summon your courage and shout up at them. “I’m here to fight! To make you pay for what you’ve done!” The Herald chuckles. “Is that what you think?” they ask. “No. You’re here for one reason, and one reason only. Because I summoned you. You went to my Sanctuary. You read my directions. And at every turn, you followed the path I chose for you – to your doom.” Dread fills your heart as you realise you can’t summon the ability to speak. You try to back away, but your feet are frozen to the floor. “Do you even know the extent of my power?” The Herald continues. “I see into the past. I control the future.” You know then that The Herald is behind everything. The Dark Mist, Ahrenia’s fate, even the gods… it had all been decided from the start. Is there really no way out? The Herald begins charging a bolt of shadowy magic, turning it backwards and forwards in their hands. “Did you really think I’d give you the opportunity to defeat me?” You open your mouth to scream, but no sound comes out. The bolt of magic in The Herald’s hands has grown into a huge, crackling ball of dark energy. Sparks fly as they draw back and prepare to strike. You look them dead in the eye, standing your ground – not that you have much of a choice. In the distant reaches of your mind, past the adrenaline roaring in your ears, you feel the amulet around your neck grow warmer, burning from within. At that moment, a deafening roar shakes the Tower walls. Malcs! The Herald looks up, their concentration broken – and you feel your limbs unfreeze. You seize the opportunity and jump back, right as a column of flame courses through the centre of the tower, straight towards The Herald. They howl in agony, releasing the ball of dark energy from their hands. It careens upwards, into the shadows, and hits Malcs with a crackling shriek. Malcs hurtles to the floor with a crash that makes the whole Tower tremble. You just about keep your balance – as does The Herald, who has turned their attention back to you. “What’s the matter?” You taunt, “Scared of a fair fight?” The Herald cracks their long, spindly fingers, like a spider preparing to strike. “Enough games!” they hiss. “Your little rebellion ends here!” Raising their hands, they rip a chunk of stone from the wall of the tower and send it hurtling towards you. You dodge towards them, sword in hand. “For Melvor!” you cry, as the battle begins…

Book X

Unlocked when

Error creating thumbnail: File missing

Throne of the Herald

is completed once.

Transcription

“It is for you,” you say, and deliver the killing blow. As the light fades from their purple eyes, The Herald’s lifeless figure fades into a dark mist. You drop your sword with a clunk. It’s over. You’ve won. There’s a groan from the side of the room. Malcs! You run to his side, hoping against hope that one of your Regeneration Potions will help. It’s no good, though – the affliction has taken root, and the wound in Malcs’ side is already infested with grim shadows. “You saved me,” you say, tears in your eyes. The great dragon makes a sort of grumbling sound, and slowly gets to his feet. “You have the power to save all of Melvor. Compared to that, my sacrifice is nothing.” You reach your arms around Malcs’ head and hold it close, as though that will save him from the affliction. “This can’t be right,” you say, “You can’t die – you’re the one who seals the gods, who saves us all!” You turn to look at the four thrones, blackened by Malcs’ fire attack. As you watch, they flicker, and return to their usual, undisturbed state. As you watch the last of The Herald’s magic wind about them, they begin to glow. You and Malcs exchange a look of horror, and you rush to the window to see four coloured beams of light rising from the horizon: Radiant Silver, Soft Blue, Mossy Green and Burning Red. The gods have awoken, and soon their war will begin anew. “I must go,” Malcs says, struggling to get to his feet. “My kin must be prepared for the coming fight. The gods must be sealed away.” “Wait -” you say, “The affliction - there must be something we can do!” “We dragons are wise, and long-lived,” Malcs suggests, “One of them will know the answer.” He doesn’t sound convinced. But wait - you know someone who’s faced the affliction and lived to tell the tale. Ahrenia! “Malcs, wait!” you call. The great dragon pauses and turns back toward you. “Ahrenia’s curse – perhaps slaying The Herald has restored her! Perhaps she knows a way to cure the affliction!” Malcs nods, thoughtfully. “Then you must return to her. Come with me.” Tentatively, avoiding his wound, you clamber up onto Malcs’ back. He beats his wings, creating a huge gust of wind as he takes off and flies up and out of the tower. You cling to his back, steeling your resolve. Will Ahrenia really be cured? And if she is, will she really be able to help save Malcs? As you swoop over the ruined landscape of the Outer Realms, you recall the Necromancer’s words – some magic is too dangerous to survive. The Herald is gone, but as long as their magic remains, anyone could use it to harm others – to destroy all of Melvor. There’s only one way to stop this madness – you have to learn the source of this magic, and snuff it out before it’s too late…

Melvor Idle version v1.3.1 (Released: 30th October 2024)
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Reference Tables: Items, Equipment, Experience Table, Upgrading Items, Combat Areas, Slayer Areas, Dungeons, Strongholds, The Abyss, Monsters