Hey everyone~ Just realized today that there aren't typed-out transcripts of the little illustrated cutscenes from the racial storylines (at least, none that I can find), so I figured I'd start typing them up here.
Think that's about all the introduction this post needs anyway!
#14306444 Feb 11, 2020 at 05:26 AM · Edited 1 year ago
A firefly sting. That's what they'd called the birthmark on your arm when you were a child. But occasionally, it would flare up, producing its own light, and you saw the worried looks it got. Its bizarrely regular shape would gleam on your skin like a torch. You'd never met anyone else with one; you'd never even heard about anyone else with one. The land of your birth was filled with legends... ...the Library Expedition, the 12 adventurers who'd found the birthplace of the world... ...the resulting exodus from Auroria, the northern continent... ...the settling of what was now Nuia. But in all the legends, there was no mention of anyone with a gold, rune-like mark on their arm. It was a perfect anomaly.
When Marian caused the golden mark to flare on your arm, your muscles trembled. Memories flashed dizzyingly before your eyes. It was easy to assume they were your own life, but you soon saw grand cities unlike anything on Nuia. It was as though you were looking out through someone else's eyes. As that person purchased fish in a marketplace, a mirror in a nearby booth reflected her face: A chestnut-haired young woman with milky skin and the refined features of a noble. The memory vanished as quickly as it had befung, leaving you unsteady. You wondered if Marian had caused you to see it, but she betrayed no knowledge of it.
You'd always heard that when they'd died during the destruction Auroria... ...the members of the Library Expedition passed their memories to the survivors of their races. Although time had faded those memories, some especially skilled individuals could recall them. Because the Aurorans passed through the Hereafter on the way to safety during the exodus... ...it was said the Goddess Nui's memories could be felt especially strongly. Before the journey had transformed her into the Goddess Nui... ...she had been a charity-minded noblewoman named Eanna. Your golden mark burned; another memory appeared: a charming, hooded vagrant begging for food.
The more Marian spoke of Lucius, which she did often, crediting him with the carnage you saw... ...the more memories seemed to fill your head. It was clear they were Eanna's. She apparently used her family's wealth to run a soup kitchen for the city's poor. You saw the smiling vagrant begging for food from the soup kitchen every day... ...and heard Eanna eventually chastise him for being able-bodied, but relying on charity. With a laugh, he handed her two tickets to a play in a local theater. As more memories flashed, you shared Eanna's realization that this man was Lucius Quinto... ...a famous playwright. Could this be Marian's Lucius? What kind of playwright could commit such carnage? Especially one who seemed so charming...
The Bloodhands had been a frequent topic of conversation in Solzreed for years. They were known as a secretive association of assassins with dealings at all levels of society. The group's motives were shrouded in mystery... ...but rumors spoke of religious fanaticism and a plot to rule the Crescent Throne. Blamed for a spate of kidnappings, they became the region's boogeymen: A reason for children to fear the dark, and for parents to secure their homes at nightfall. Of course, these everyday phobias belied the true horror of the organization: They had allegedly assassinated the last king and had grown very dangerous... and powerful. You wondered if they'd had any historical precedent in Eanna's time. However, her memories held no mention of these dark assassins or their trademark crimson gloves.
When you visited the stern-looking general, your rune burned with new memories. You saw guards in similar armor posted around Eanna's house. As she shyly showed Lucius the home, half-apologizing for its extravagance... ...the guards glared suspiciously. Though a well-received playwright, Lucius was still a commoner. In another memory, her father sternly reminded her that she was expected to marry within her rank. In yet another, Eanna and Lucius agreed to meet again in secret. She said she knew that being famous, he was surrounded by many women... ...and might not want the hassle of dating a noble's daughter. But just in case, she'd bought a ring to symbolize their love. Lucius put it on and kissed her.
As you interrogated the Bloodhand, more memories pressed into you. You held them back until you'd finished with the man, then stumbled under their emotion. You saw another interrogation, except this one took place at a trial, before a mob of thousands. Lucius stood chained on a platform; it was his fate the trial was meant to decide. He'd written something controversial, something bordering on heresy. Some in the mob were screaming for his head. You swallowed, vividly recalling the lump of worry in Eanna's throat as the verdict neared. Before it was read, the memory faded, and with it, the rune's glowing sensation. You couldn't understand what Eanna's memories had to do with your birthmark... ...but it burned every time you experienced one.
The Ring of Nui. You'd never heard of such an artifact... ...but couldn't help but remember the ring Eanna had given Lucius as a symbol of their love. True, that was long before they'd received the power they were known for... ...but it was Eanna who'd received the powers of Nui and become the Goddess during the expedition. Perhaps when they'd entered the mythical Garden, the birthplace of the world... ...the ordinary ring she'd given Lucius had been imbued with power just like she was. You searched what you'd seen of her memories, and a fortress-like prison filled your mind. Had Lucius been convicted? Oddly enough, Eanna turned adn you saw Lucius standing at her side.
Sloane's home was sparse and compact; clearly, he had no family. However, the note from the ring box hinted that he did have someone special. When you touched the cushion inside, you got the vivid sensation it had held the Ring of Nui... ...and that it was, indeed, the ring Eanna had given to Lucius. How many love stories had that humble circle played a role in? First Eanna and Lucius... ...then Sloane and his mystery love. Certainly the Bloodhands had no such romantic intentions for it. You combed Eanna's memories, but again saw no reference to the Bloodhands. There was no hint at why the ring would be valuable to anyone but lovers, either... ...and not a clue as to what powers it may have received.
The Castigant Ruins were a frequent and popular subject for any bard worth his salt. Many bards had recast the story as a morality tale about respecting one's betters... ...but the best versions simple presented the story as it was, without extraneous embellishment. Though the Crescent Throne was weaker now, its power had once been vast. A noble declared himself to be a rival king and built a grand castle to legitimize himself. After a series of intrigues, during which he claimed vast swaths of land and raised taxes... ...his forces were easily crushed by the Crescent Throne proper. The notoriously bloody battle had turned the soil to crimson mud. Hoping to prevent future uprisings, the Crescent Throne had wanted to set an example. It was no wonder some spirits would be tortured enough to keep wandering.
As Malcolm fell, a golden rune flamed on his arm! It looked exactly like your own. You started to ask him about it, but his last breath rasped from his lips, and he grew still. You seized Eanna's memories; they must contain some kind of clue. However, their connection to the rune was as inscrutable as ever. What you did see was another member of the expedition take credit for Lucius's play. The selfless act had exonerated Lucius at the cost of his friend's freedom. Shocked to receive such a gift, even from a friend, Eanna grew passionate about saving him. Here, you realized the history books had it wrong: Though the adventurers had wanted to find the birthplace of the world and the source of magic... ...the real catalyst for their adventure was a prison break. After helping their honorable friend escape prison, they'd had to flee the city.
If Eanna's memories had shown you anything of use, it was that history could be rewritten... ...and shouldn't necessarily be trusted. All accounts painted Sloane as a normal, retired soldier... ...but he had somehow come into possession of the Ring of Nui, a powerful artifact. There was clearly more to his story than you'd uncovered so far. Even Malcolm was more than he seemed: he'd raved about a war, but peace had reigned for centuries. He might have gone mad... or he might've known something that you didn't. And how had he ended up with your same birthmark? Did it mean he recalled Eanna's memories, too? Perhaps he could have explained everything. As it stood, even his foster mother knew nothing of his origins or the birthmark you shared. For once, instead of a stranger's memories, your mind was clouded only with questions. Malcolm had told Emma he'd joined an elite religious group. But which one? The area was certainly rife with Dahuta cultists. Could they be related to this mire as well? Legends said that before she became the goddess, Dahuta had been an ordinary Elf... ...and, like Eanna and Lucius, a member of the Library Expedition. You'd glimpsed a stunning Elf in the background of Eanna;s memories; it was probably Dahuta. When she'd entered the Garden, the birthplace of the world, she'd become the Goddess of Change... ...just as Eanna had become Nui, Goddess of the Hereafter. Most Nuians worshipped Nui, their namesake, perhaps Malcolm had been hoping for a change.
Malcolm's empty grave yawned up at the sky. It seemed an oddly appropriate setting for you... ...since you couldn't seem to escape the memories of the Goddess of the Hereafter. Though she'd left you countless happy musings of lazy afternoons in Lucius's arms... ...she also shared her pain. While given a god's abilities and duties, she'd been left with her human sympathies and emotions. As it turned out, most creatures did not die in peace. THey left the world kicking and screaming, torn by great regret and protest. Sometimes spirits had to be literally dragged out of mangled corpses. Eanna had such empathy that she had devoted her human life to helping the needy. As a goddess, every unhappy soul she'd guided to the Hereafter had rent her heart to pieces.
It had always been clear that Marian came from wealth and breeding... ...but seeing her guards, it struck you that she might not only be rich, but noble. Long ago, the ruling queen was an elegant woman named Marian. She was forever memorialized in the name of the city of Marianople. Three powerful families still ruled the city, vying for power between them. Each named their daughters Marian, in the hopes of fating her to be the next queen. And, of course, fating her family to ride her coattails to new heights of prominence and wealth. Naturally, many commoners secretly named their daughters Marian for the same reason... ...but commoners didn't typically have cadres of loyal guards. The Marian who'd found you could be of noble blood--a powerful ally, indeed.
Marian tended to babble, because so much of life reminded her of history. Her pet topic was Lucius. The more she spoke of him, the surer you became he was indeed Eanna's Lucius. Marian was one of the most educated people you'd met. Only the very rich could afford to spend so much time learning, instead of earning a living. When you asked how Marian knew so much about Lucius, she showed a prized possession: A tattered, well-loved volume called Gods and Heroes. You were familiar with the title; it was the story of the expedition. If only Marian knew how familiar you were getting with that story already... ...not to mention that you were hearing it straight from the source.
You'd heard the Nui's Chosen mentioned several times. Marian finally explained what they were. They were apparently warriors that lived in the Hereafter... ...guarding the Hereafter Gate from attacks by the Crimson Army: The army that had once been led by the God of Destruction during the war on Auroria. They were now under the command of the Dread God's top advisor and general: Anthalon. Mostly consisting of undead, they wanted nothing more than to shatter through the Hereafter Gate... ...and overtake Nuia the way they'd once overtaken Auroria, completing their conquest of the world. As to exactly who the Nui's Chosen were or why they'd been chosen, Marian had no clue. Eanna's memories were equally unenlightening. Perhaps White Arden held the answers.
Though their faces looked young, the eyes of the Nui's Chosen appeared haunted... ...as if they'd seen far too much. For his part, Alexander looked like a boy of no more than 20. It seemed impossible he'd been one of Sloane's closest friends... Sloane had been at least three times Alexander's age, if not more. At any rate, he'd been able to explain exactly why the Ring of Nui was powerful. Sealing souls in the Hereafter, conjuring souls back--fitting for the goddess of death's ring. Though based on her memories, Eanna had a kind heart. While she'd have gladly helped Flora... ...you doubted she'd approve of necromancy, especially if it was committed using her artifact. Necromancy seemed extremely widespread in White Arden... ...as if the forest itself were trapped between this world and the Hereafter.
Your proximity to the Hereafter Gate triggered more memories. The expedition fled the city after the jailbreak, reached the birthplace of the world... ...and inherited fantastic powers. Eanna--who'd become the Goddess Nui--worried they held too much power. She watched as former friends, now gods and heroes, began to war with each other. To her horror, the entire continent was drawn into the conflict. Many thousands died. She rallied with some of her former friends and vowed to save as many lives as possible. They would seal away Gene, who had become Kyrios, the rampaging God of Destruction... ...while Nui opened a portal to the Hereafter. The citizens of Auroria could then pass through it... ...and exit the afterworld to a new land, untouched by war. The portal they'd exited through was the Hereafter Gate in White Arden. The gate Nui's Chosen had sworn to guard.
The Bloodhands had been the real enemies all along. Atlantia's former students had interpreted her teachings incorrectly and grown overly zealous. Because Nui was the Goddess of the Hereafter, they became obsessed with death and necromancy. They came to despise all other Nuians for not sharing their beliefs... ...and not worshipping Nui the "right" way: with dark and bloody rituals. Though atlantia was frustrated and angry, she was too old to rejoin Nui's Chosen. They were Auroria's most elite soldiers. As Nui allowed for the exodus from Auroria, these warriors volunteered to stay behind. They pledged to keep enemy forces from following their comrades and destroying their new lives. The Hereafter prevented them from aging, and the pledge became an eternal duty.
By the time you reached her, Marian was already dead. Malcolm stood over her, gripping a blade, surrounded by other Bloodhands. But you'd watched Malcolm die at your hand. He'd been buried. How was he here? Laughing, he said Sloane was an old fool who worshipped a statue instead of Nui... ...and Nui's Chosen were ineffectual idiots who'd failed to secure victory after centuries. Clearly, he'd never shared in Eanna's memories, or he'd have seen how noble the Nui's Chosen were. Nui had known them only briefly, but had the utmost respect for them. For the good of everyone, they'd sworn to fight Anthalon for eternity. But Malcolm said it was time for a new breed of hero: the Bloodhands. And he would lead them. All they needed was the Ring of Nui. Rage welled up inside you, and you threw yourself at Malcolm. Surprised, he dropped the ring. The Bloodhands were everywhere, attacking you from every angle, but you had eyes only for Malcolm. He'd slain Marian and Sloane, and slandered the noble Nui's Chosen. You would avenge them all... ...or die trying. If Malcolm refused to die, you'd keep killing him again and again. Eventually, you'd make it stick. A crack of thunder tore through your ears as you defeated him. Lightning snaked across the ceiling. You turned to find the rest of the Bloodhands dead, and a strange man standing before you. In his hand, he held not a sword, a staff, or a lute, but a flickering bolt of lightning. It had to be Lucius. Grief crumpled his gentle features as he gazed down at Marian's body.
Lucius slipped the Ring of Nui back onto his finger. You recognized the simple band immediately from Eanna's memories. Lucius thanked you for helping him, but you gesture to Marian. She'd wanted to help him, not you. To reward her devotion, if he was such an almighty god, he needed to bring her back to life! Lucius offered a regretful smile and murmured that he didn't have that kind of power. He was no god and didn't want to be. He was only a hero, who'd once made a vow to his beloved. It was true that while everyone knew Nui's name, no one called Lucius a god. But then why had Marian wasted so much breath on him? Maybe Malcolm had been right... ...maybe Nui's Chosen WERE ineffectual fools. Lucius laughed. He said there was no need to grieve, and no need to hurry. He might be powerless... ...but he did know someone who could help. He leveled a finger at you.
Lucius explained that the magic contained within the golden runes was a pure magic. Unlike necromancy, it wouldn't taint or twist the soul of the person being resurrected. Years ago, Anthalon had faked his own death and pulled back his troops. Thinking the war finally over, Nui's Chosen left the Hereafter and re-entered normal life. They arrived on Nuia, started families, and took up new careers... ...finally having the chance to share in what they'd spent so long protecting. Just when their last ounces of fear were replaced by the bliss of life... Anthalon attacked. His forces were fiercer and more deadly than ever. The risk of his breaking through the gate had never been greater. Nui's Chosen were forced to abandon their new lives and return to the war. But before leaving, they gave their children a special mark to protect them: a golden rune. You were an heir of the noblest lineage ever to tread the earth.
Lucius said the rune was read as "khidella, " which meant love in an ancient language called Ipnysh. Back then, drawing the character with your finger had been the equivalent of saying, "I love you." Nui's Chosen had picked this symbol to give their offspring. Drawing the magic from their own lifeforces, Nui's Chosen traced the rune on each child. Their children were marked with a love so strong, it could be concentrated into physical form. Malcolm had used his mark on himself: the ultimate selfishness. The ultimate cowardice. Poor Malcolm. He hadn't wasted his death, or even his life. He'd wasted love itself. Some Nuians had been fearful of the special magic the heirs held, and kept the truth a secret. Even people like Marian, who knew the heirs were special, could never figure out exactly how. Marian. A good and loyal friend. The golden rune on your arm began to glow, brighter and brighter. As its light flared up, your eyes widened. Marian drew a breath.
The golden mark vanished from your arm, never to return. Marian awoke with a musical laugh. Your suspicions about her heritage had been correct: She was one of the noble Marians, betrothed to the prince himself. She already knew that as queen, she wanted to lead people back to their rightful place on Auroria. She had suspected the magic of the runebearers could help. That was why, against Atlantia's advice, she had gone to find them. Lucius returned to the battle he'd been fighting for centuries. Nui's Chosen finally understood that their sacrifice was total. Even if the war seemed to end, they could never return to their people. It was too risky. But despite Anthalon, his evil, his destruction... ...the people they were protecting could return to Auroria. Could reclaim the ancient Nuian lands. The birthlands of Lucius and Eanna, and your parents. You felt another of Eanna's memories emerge. As the Goddess Nui, she'd transported the citizens of Auroria to their new home. But the effort was too great, and she was fading away. She implored Lucius to be the people's father, to take care of them. He agreed, promising he wouldn't let them forget their mother's name. You no longer had your golden rune, but you had used it well. And now, you had something even better: a legacy.
As the sun clawed its way above the horizon, it brought with it the dawn of your Bejant Trials. This coming-of-age ceremony had been practice by the Firran since ancient times. The elements wind, water, fire, and earth were the land's true rulers, reigning over life and death. Passing the Bejant Trials meant receiving each element's blessing as a mature, adult warrior.
Only a tribe's Mahra could decide which Firran were ready to attempt the Bejant Trials. Failing the trial was akin to spitting on this gift, then burying it like scat. The Mahra may never see fit to give such Firran another chance at the greatest glory.
As nomads, Firran are intimately connected with the land, the weather, and nature itself. Though they worship the wind as the ultimate god, all elements of nature are sacred--even death. The practice of necromancy is considered beyond evil. You knew of no human words that could describe the blasphemy Firran saw in raising the dead... ...and disrupting the natural order.
To Firran, every life has purpose. Weapons are blessed to sanctify necessary killings. Their wilderness home already makes danger a frequent companion. For these reasons, Firran are expected to settle disputes peacefully. Killing each other is strictly forbidden-- especially during the Trials.
Traveling bards sung many stories about the Eye of Day. The lake was revered for its perfect reflection of the sun, the source of fire and light. Allegedly, this reflection could even be seen on cloudy days. Since fire and the sun were so important when scratching out a life on the plains... ...the lake was one of your people's most sacred places.
The great Firran warrior Tahyang was considered the embodiment of the high Wind God... ...because of his ferocity, tenacity, and skill with archery. He once journeyed to the Garden, the birthplace of the world, with eleven other adventurers. The place was so full of magic, they received extraordinary powers. Some were given the duties of gods; others, like Tahyang, ascended to the roles of epic heroes.
When Tahyang passed into the sunset, his memories swept into every living Firran. They fell to their knees in his honor. Fragments of those memories remained in your people's minds even today. You'd heard the most skilled Firran could recall more. When you shot the Last Spirit, it happened to you; memories showed Tahyang firing the bow... ...for the last time. He'd expected no victory, He martyred himself to save his race.
Mist demons were summoned by Firran shaman; they were assassins who killed without leaving a trace. Memories showed you that one hand been sent after Tahyang in his youth. However, a dark-haired man had saved him. Perhaps the mist demon you now faced was a similar spell gone awry.
Ohnar was no master necromancer, or the ritual could never have been interrupted so easily. But an acolyte could have never raised as many undead as you'd seen in the valley. There had to be another necromancer at work--and a powerful one indeed. It was probably a vile Harani. They'd taught the Firran of necromancy in the first place.
Wisps of Tahyang's memories filled you. He, too, had dealt with necromancy: Kyrios's army had been mostly undead. Once, he'd seen the decapitated head of a necromancer transform into a bird and fly off. The undead it left behind raised their hands in supplication. Tahyang shot the bird, and the undead dissolved.
When the Firran fled Auroria, flush with the horror of fighting undead armies... ...the Souleye became treasured as a way of keeping such atrocity at bay. Its faceted surface could reveal anything tainted with death... ...from undead themselves to the necromancers who raised them. The most elite warriors dedicated themselves to guarding it.
The Windwhips' uniform cause more memories to whirl before you. Having grown up a nomad, unused to authority, Tahyang had been mistrustful of anyone in uniform. However, he'd eventually changed his mind. You saw him with a dark-haired human, both in uniform, laughing and crafting their own blades.
Eltere was determined to become your ally to repay you for saving her life. It reminded you of Tahyang's partner in crime: The man who'd saved him from the fog assassin and later shared his uniform. History told you the man had to be Gene, who became Kyrios, the God of Destruction. However, it was hard to reconcile the friendly face you'd seen with that kind of monster.
Working with the Shadowhawks triggered a flood of Tahyang's memories from before the expedition. He and Gene had founded the Shadowhawks, culling the best and brightest from local street gangs. They enforced strict rules of conduct: brotherhood, loyalty, and honor among thieves. It seemed that the Shadowhawks had fallen far from those ideals.
The City of Towers held echoes of Delphinad, though it wasn't nearly as grand. You imagined Gene and Tahyang around every corner, dodging guards or laughing with the Hawk brothers. They were happy then. Before their journey to the Garden. Before the great war ravaged Auroria. Before Gene was corrupted by the Dread God's powers.
Now that you'd infiltrated the Shadowhawks, Tahyang's memories of the group seemed strange. Back then, they'd been outlaws, but also respected peacekeepers. But in Mahadevi, ordinary citizens cowered from them. Either the Shadowhawks had forgotten their roots, or something more sinister threatened the city.
As you padded through Mahadevi, you heard whispers about an evil alchemist. He seemed to be the main source of people's fears and reluctance to step outside. Rumors spoke of unwary travelers snatched from unlit alleys and replaced with mindless slaves. The Shadowhawks were a known risk, but what people fear most is the unknown. The alchemist's unsettling activities were just that.
Croft had used the Souleye to partially send his assistants' minds to the Hereafter... ...leaving them with just enough to act as slaves. Tahyang had met such men. The Dread Necromancer, Anthalon, had committed similar atrocities. He'd even raised fallen Shadowhawks as undead servants to Kyrios. Seeing friends as undead had rent Tahyang's heart.
The Shadowhawks wanted to kill you. You knew from his memories that Tahyang wouldn't approve... ...not without hearing your side of the story. His Shadowhawks had been decent and loyal; criminals with rules. No wonder he'd been horrified to see them reanimated. But these Shadowhawks were little better anyway.
When the Windwhips mentioned Auroria, the fur on your neck tingled; a memory pawed at your mind. You saw hundreds of Firran warriors in crimson cloaks charging into battle. Dozens of different tribes had united to battle the forces of Kyrios. Later, Tahyang overheard awed whispers about the fierce Windwhips at the Battle of Terena. You felt himi beam with pride at the new term.
Though FIrran felt little connection to cities, Austera was purred about with respect. It was the only port that allowed free trade between both Haranya and Nuia. Grell urged you to keep the Souleye well-hidden. He was probably worried about it falling victim to the port's active black market.
When you killed the victim in the port, you saved his body from being used by evil. Tahyang had faced a similar choice: kill Kyrios to save what was left of Gene? He couldn't. When Kyrios lay dying, Tahyang saved him. A fellow expedition member helped. "Every petal on every flower has a reason to exist," she said. "We cannot let the God of Destruction die. Someday, we will need him."
To enable the Souleye to be restored sooner... ...the Windwhips had brought its base from its secret cave to their headquarters. Precious few Windwhips were awaiting your arrival, however. Most were still out on patrol, having not yet received the message the Souleye had been found.
Grell had been using you all along. Even Ohnar had been involved in his plot, as one of his students... or victims. Luckily, unlike the necromancer Tahyang had faced, Grell didn't transform into a bird to escape. However, neither did he fight. He had someone else for that. You recognized the beast immediately. The creature, Enshaka, had featured in several of Tahyang's most horrific battlefield memories. Centuries later, he--it--was still alive. Tahyang had recognized Enshaka as being one of the Shadowhawks that Anthalon had reanimated. It had turned Tahyang's stomach to see what had been done to his former Hawk Brother. Enshaka had only grown more hideous over time. Aside from Anthalon, Enshaka had been the most powerful mage in the army of Kyrios. Tahyang had desperately wanted to put his fallen friend to rest. As the memory flickered out, the Last Spirit appeared in your paw. When you finally defeated Enshaka, he didn't crumple to the floor in a mass of bleeding flesh. Instead, with a howl of pain and rage, he vanished. Grell followed suit. No longer in danger, you found yourself unable to resist collapsing from your wounds. Little did you know, in the room beneath you, the Souleye had vanished, too.
Silent Forest had a long history of tragedy and magic. The trees had been watered by the blood of several wars. Tombs of ancient kings dotted the landscape. A terrible mystery was supposedly sealed under Soundless Lake. The entire forest was allegedly cursed due to a powerful mage's experiment. The place was awash with enchantment. A relic as magical as the Souleye could be nowhere but there.
The Firran weren't native to Auroria, but Haranya. However, after migrating to Auroria, they'd found true glory. Endless plains, vast herds of snowlions, and winds filled with strange energy. If the Souleye would help the Firran reclaim their greatest territory... ...it had to be found. Who better to do so than one who wielded Tahyang's bow?