Таблица лидеров

Chronicle: Part VIII. «Gorrs» The tale of Shelley Bac’s travels in the lands of Arinar continues! This time he visited Gorrs. In this part of the chronicles you will learn of how the consequences of the Great Cataclysm affected the appearance of this people, in what climate they live and of the sculpture looking at which caused deja-vu in the main hero of this tale. Year 111 after the Great Cataclysm Third quarter — 67th dawn I felt ill at ease as soon as I could make out the island’s contours on the horizon. That’s probably because of all the rumors surrounding the genesis of the gorrs. They say there were one of very few peoples who were able to survive the Great Cataclysm in isolation, but they paid for it with their... appearance. I decided to land on the coast to avoid any unpleasant surprises. Year 111 after the Great Cataclysm Third quarter — 68th dawn Apparently, traveling in this harsh land takes forever. The entire island is a scorched wasteland, completely deprived of flora or fauna. A massive mountain juts from the island’s center. It must be Ardor, the capital of the gorrs and the only place where you can find a living soul. Or so I thought as I melted under the beating sun and tried in vain to ignore my thirst, when suddenly I saw a house! I wasn’t even phased that it was built in the shape of an enormous stone head! Forgetting all fears and doubts, I pounded on the door with all my strength. I was entirely certain that nothing could surprise me anymore. However, as soon as the doors opened, I earned several dozen more grey hairs. The master of the house was covered in skin as thick as rock from head to toe, with flaming eyes and a spiked tail. To my surprise, he turned out to be a wonderful host... despite hardly uttering a word at first. The gorr kept looking at me in disbelief, and there was clearly tension in the air. It appears he welcomed me in on account of local customs, not because he wanted to. To dispel the tension, I informed him frankly of the purpose of my visit and told him the tale of the journey I had made. Amazingly, it worked! The gorr immediately relaxed and, after a few mugs of their strong brew, he told me of his people’s hard fate. Year 111 after the Great Cataclysm Third quarter — 71st dawn After writing down as much as I could with a not-so-steady hand, I planned to leave the wonderful haven, but I was distracted by a very unusual sculpture. It depicted a mountain with a massive rift from summit to base, which was obviously not Ardor. The master of the house told me that he had started to see this image in his dreams more often, so he recreated it using the art form gorrs are so famous for – sculpture. I felt a strange sense of déjà vu, but decided to ignore it for now. The road is waiting! *** To be continued ...

Chronicle: Part X. «Elves» This part of Shelley Bac’s chronicle concludes the cycle of history about the playable races’ history. This time we will get to know of the Elvish people’s fate. You will learn the ways how Elves adapted to surviving the aftermath of the Great Cataclysm, how the History Keeper’s adventured unfolded on the mysterious island of the “pointy ears”, and of the surprising companion of our hero and their parting gift. Year 111 after the Great Cataclysm Third quarter — 89th dawn One of the most mysterious things about the history of the elves is no one has yet been able to establish for certain the whereabouts of their capital. Although some elves united with the humans and muars to share the burdens of the Great Cataclysm and build cities together, most of them simply disappeared from history. Any attempts to make the elves talk have ended quite badly, which I felt for my part back in Catoravia. However, among the dusty tomes in the library of New Oltgard, I stumbled upon a curious map that pointed to a spot in the middle of the ocean with the eloquent note "pointy ears." Deciding to try my luck, I headed straight into the unknown without hesitation. Year 111 after the Great Cataclysm Fourth quarter — 5th dawn As I suspected, the empty spot on the map turned out to be a very significant island, the sight of which left me dumbfounded. Every inch of ground was covered in dense spiky vines that came together to form one massive tangle of thorns. However, even more amazing, the island was also surrounded by the wreckage of countless ships all covered with the same vines. After circling around for quite a while, I was able to find a small landing spot and began carefully exploring the island. How does the expression go again? Oh, right! I have good news and bad news. The good news is — I managed to find the elves. The bad news is... The entire island turned out to be a monstrous forest of nightmares full of the bodies of elves trapped inside trees. I can’t imagine what force was capable of creating such a bizarre and terrifying union of two species. I could go on for many pages describing the horrors of this place, but I better hurry up and get out of here... *the entry ends abruptly.* Year 111 after the Great Cataclysm Fourth quarter — 6th - 8th dawn (approximately) I woke up utterly exhausted somewhere in the depths of the island. Before me, I saw a hooded stranger examining my diary with interest. The ears sticking out of his hood gave him away as a member of the elven race, which didn’t make me very happy in my current state. Noticing that I was awake, he smiled happily and pointed to a boat moored nearby, inviting me to come aboard. Seeing no other way out of this, I accepted his invitation. I tried throughout our journey to learn more about what had happened here. However, the elf merely smiled and nodded in response to all my questions while deftly guiding the boat between thorny thickets. We soon reached the shore near the parked turbocopter. I had barely disembarked and turned around to thank my rescuer, when I found I was alone. There were many emotions flowing through me in that moment, but I decided that leaving the island in a hurry was the best course of action at this point. Only as I traveled back to Catoravia did I find his parting gift — a small medallion of wood tucked into my diary... *** To be continued!

Chronicle: Part VII. «Goblins» The next round in the history of Shelley Books' travel will be the story of his visit to the capital of the goblins - Technopolis. This part of the chronicle will introduce us to the goblin "hospitality", the infrastructure and the state of the ecology of the main city of these green creatures, as well as talk about other obstacles on the path of the History Keeper. Year 111 after the Great Cataclysm Third quarter — 52nd dawn On seeing my approach, the goblins didn’t bother with any convoy or escort formalities, they just opened fire! I soon realized that my turbocopter was registered to a notoriously famous scammer who managed to severely irritate the local authorities. After meager apologies for such a rude welcome, they handed me a certificate for a new turbocopter. If I knew how many circles of hell I’d have to pass through to get it, I would have continued my journey on water ... To say I was dumbfounded to be in the goblin capital would be an understatement! Technopolis is truly worthy of its name. Ninety percent of the city is made up of every kind of factory, workshop, and laboratory in existence. The other ten percent is banks, auction houses, and other institutions capable of driving you into debt ten generations deep. The environment of Technopolis is another matter altogether. Just one deep breath of the local air is guaranteed to make you sick, so I got myself a respirator in a hurry. Year 111 after the Great Cataclysm Third quarter — 54th dawn To my great disappointment, there isn’t a single library in Technopolis! Apparently, collecting historical literature is the business of wealthy aristocrats, so I paid a visit to Mayor Redshield himself. He generously allowed me to examine his collection of books, and after just a few days, I was ready to leave this amazing city. Year 111 after the Great Cataclysm Third quarter — 59th dawn As for my new turbocopter, it turns out I need to submit the following: an income statement, pilot license, a Technopolis municipal parking pass, confirmation of a clean criminal record, and two dozen other documents and requirements that absolutely baffle me. I wasted several days darting between various government offices scattered lovingly all over town. Curse these bureaucrats! *** To be continued!

Chronicle: Part V. «Muars» A new part of the Chronicles of Skylore opens a series of stories about the fate of the peoples of Arinar during the Great Cataclysm. So, Shelley Bac went on an expedition to find out more details from those who managed to survive at that difficult time. And at first his manuscripts will tell us the story of the Muars. We will get acquainted with the foundations and structure of their society, as well as how exactly they managed to adapt to the changes in the world around them. Back when the war for the Spear still raged, the shadders lived in the northwest of Ayvondil, hunting and fishing to survive. They had very little contact with the other peoples of the mainland, and were led by wise matriarchs who served as both chieftains and high priestesses for the tribe. The shadders had always lived in harmony with nature, and were therefore the first to sense the impending threat. They took the signs of the coming Cataclysm seriously—the Matriarch decided that the tribe would leave their homes and flee to Maliat with the other refugees. Ultimately, the Council decided to send the shadders to a remote land that appeared near the Norlant swamp. And, as we already know, a particular Keeper of History found himself among them. The shadders bore every adversity with fortitude, and it seemed as though nothing could break their spirit. Fortunately, they had never relied on magic as much as the other peoples, and swamp fumes and an oneiromancy helped their shamans stay connected to the other world. Visions and dreams granted them knowledge of the future and the past, and they used this knowledge to grow and thrive. Over time, their leadership shifted from matriarch to a more traditional shaman chieftain, and they founded the capital city of Catoravia, where I was born. Such is the history of the unusual shadder people, known today as muars. And now I am on my way to New Oltgard, where I intend to learn the fate of my own people. To be continued ...

any work is interesting if time is spent on it, done qualitatively maybe someone likes lore... didn't think about it?

Chronicle: Part IV. «A World Without Magic» The Chronicles of Skylore continue! However, the records we’ve found dated back to a period happened more than 100 years after the events of the previous parts, and their authorship belongs to another member of the Bac’s family. Our hero is Shelley Bac, the grandson of the first History Keeper. In this part you will learn about his decision to continue the work of his grandfather, the situation in Arinar, as well as how his path of the History Keeper was almost over before it’s barely begun. Year 111 after the Great Cataclysm Third quarter, 14th dawn Well, the time has finally come for me to continue the labors of my glorious ancestors! I suppose you would appreciate an update on how things stand, right? About a hundred years have passed since the Great Cataclysm. The wrath of nature has faded away, and almost all the peoples have established their own settlements, including my neighbors. Since fate landed my great-grandfather on a shadder ship, I came of age in Catoravia. I have spent my whole life absorbing the wisdom of this lovely and remarkably resourceful people, and now I am free to choose my own path. But before I shoulder the burden of being a Keeper of History, I should probably find some transportation. I heard tell of a fugitive Goblin who settled on the other side of the mainland and always has a few interesting hunks of iron for sale. All right, no time to lose! Let's go! Year 111 after the Great Cataclysm Third quarter, 15th dawn My mission was successful! The goblin was exceptionally friendly, and my savings were just enough for the battered turbocopter he had for sale. He put the craft through its paces and dispelled my fears, but I still get the feeling that Goblin was hiding something... But what of it! Just seeing this turbocopter fills me with pride at the level of progress we have been able to achieve. Our ancestors relied almost entirely on magic, which ended up nearly destroying Arinar. The great mages and servants of the gods decided to preserve the heritage of that era. Unlike us, the Keepers of History, they valued the traditions and laws behind creating spells over all. A waste of time, if you ask me! Long story short, magic was replaced by science, and adherents started calling themselves scientists. And even though it was initially difficult for them to come up with replacements for the artifacts and magical trinkets of old, over time, our scientists, engineers, and alchemists have succeeded on countless fronts. Take my current situation, for example: now instead of resorting to so-called teleportation, I get to test out this modern and almost certainly reliable masterpiece of goblin engineering! Ah, I love science! Year 111 after the Great Cataclysm Third quarter, 17th dawn I have come to the conclusion that goblin engineering and reliability are irreconcilable concepts. I am writing this as I fly over the wide open ocean, and if I ever make it to the other side, my hair will be completely gray from the stress. As for my plan of action: my priority is to learn as much as I can about what fate befell the peoples of Arinar during the Great Cataclysm... those who managed to survive, that is. The journey to my first destination will take quite some time, so let me share with you the fate of my great-grandfather's companions. To be continued ...

Chronicle: Part III. «Journey at Sea» The third part of “The Chronicles of Skylore” concludes the story of Edward Bac and is the key to the further fate of the Order of the History Keepers and the whole Arinar. This time the hero will tell about an expedition to new lands, ancient healing methods in Arinar, and also will find a mysterious friend who will tell him where to find the answer to all his questions. Fourteen days after the ritual For the third day counting, our flagship cuts through the vast expanse of the sea, and the moment when we will finally see our new home draws ever closer. I know I shall remember the journey itself for a long time, especially these endless bouts of seasickness. Fortunately, one of the shadder shamans had a treatment: some pungent herb that held my queasiness at bay. It appears our trip will last several more weeks, so I have decided to devote this time to my search for answers. The Vortex Ritual, our disappearing magic, the split of Arinar… they are all pieces of the same puzzle, and perhaps there is someone on the ship who can help me solve it. Sixteen days after the ritual Thorough questioning of the crew led me to a certain astrologer from Moraktar. He preferred to keep to himself, and did not welcome my company at first. However, as soon as I mentioned the purpose of my research, his expression changed. He cryptically suggested that I take the air on deck after dark, but when I pressed him further, he made it clear that our conversation was over. With no other leads to follow, I had nothing to lose by taking his strange advice. For hours on end I paced aimlessly fore and aft, peering out at the sea, willing it to reveal the answers I sought. But to no avail. In desperation, I turned my gaze upward to the night sky—and felt the pieces fall into place. The sky above me was unimaginably alien, the familiar constellations replaced by curious shapes I had never before laid eyes on. Could it be that we… *Page missing* To be continued ...

We continue to plunge into the history of the Skylore universe, using the notes of Eadweard Bac — the first known member of the Order of the History Keepers! In this part, you will find out what happened to our world a few days after the events in the Subterranean Temple, the consequences of the Great Vortex Ritual for the inhabitants of Arinar, and also about important decisions made by the leaders of the warring factions. Three days after the ritual Several days have passed since the power held in the Timepiece of Origin burst free. All else aside, it did as intended and lifted the curse of Advin-Tar, but all other instances of magic were erased as well. Few believed that one artifact could have such a devastating effect, but that does not change the truth: magic is leaving Arinar. We did not realize right away what threat the disappearance of magic posed, but everything that happened afterwards forced us to accept the sheer scale of the catastrophe. First, power faded from amulets and artifacts. Soon after, mages and oracles began to weaken, but what happened next was what pushed Arinar over the brink into chaos. All the islands that had been magically suspended in the air collapsed in the blink of an eye, entombing thousands of Arinites beneath them… *Page missing* Ten days after the ritual ...it seems the disappearance of magic was only the beginning. Volcanic eruptions and catastrophic earthquakes struck Arinar, erasing many cities from the face of the earth. Maliat has become one of the last bastions of safety, and refugees from across the land continue to pour in, but no one knows how long the city will stand. Now, with our world on the edge of collapsing, the Sentinels and the Legion have made the only sensible decision: to end their war. All the heroes who so recently thirsted for each other's blood in the fight for the Spear fragments, have now joined forces to save the world from destruction… *Page missing* …dragonriders reported that a scattering of new islands appeared after the earthquakes, and that the elements seemed to have left these havens untouched. The leader of the alliance ordered the fleet equipped to transport refugees to this new territory, and all of Maliat was soon on the move. Fate has taken a rather unprecedented twist, as tomorrow I set sail for the distant mainland with a crew of shadders, Ayvondil's cat-like inhabitants. They seem amiable, but one of the kittens has already attempted to steal my money pouch. This promises to be quite an interesting journey… To be continued ...

If you ask folks of Arinar about the history of their world, they will most likely tell you the story of the Great Cataclysm. However, there are very few who know about the events leading up to that grim era. Fortunately, throughout the history of Arinar there has been a secret Order, who keeps by their pen all the events doesn’t hide not a single moment, and their name is the History Keepers. Therefore, for the answer to the question “How did it all begin?” we decided to turn to one of the manuscripts we’ve found under the authorship of the First History Keeper - Eadweard Bac. This part will shed light on one of the most crucial turning points in the history of Arinar: the Great Vortex Ritual. This is how it all began... Several days before the ritual After countless years of hardship, we finally located the Timepiece of Origin! If the priestesses' predictions are true, the curse of Advin-Tar will soon be dispelled, and great heroes Valaria and Maradish will be released from their centuries-long battle! Our path now takes us to Maliat, where the events, which promise to alter the course of Arinar's history, will take place. The Great Vortex Ritual Our procession has reached the underground temple. I am surrounded by ranks of great heroes, gazes fixed on high priestess Ami-Teil, who will conduct the ritual to turn the Timepiece's power against this ancient curse. We shall soon bear witness to truly momentous events! *Page missing* …as soon as the final syllable was uttered, the Timepiece began to spin, and with each rotation the walls of the temple began to shake ever more violently. I felt as though one false move would cause the air itself to burst into flame from the sheer force of the magical energy flowing through it. The next rotation lit up the temple in a blinding flash of light, and an unfathomable darkness washed over my mind. When I regained my senses, I found myself buried amidst a heap of rubble, but was able to force my way out and take in my surroundings. Our heroes lay strewn around the temple still as corpses, yet, gods be praised, merely unconscious. When I turned my attention to the Timepiece, I found only the lifeless body of the high priestess slumped motionless among scattered shards. What in the name of all that is holy just happened? And why do I feel so drained? I must return to Maliat with all haste. I feel it in my bones: this bodes nothing but ill… *Page missing* …as I left the temple, I saw the consequences of the ritual. The Magic Flame of Maliat began to falter. The town was soon plunged into darkness, and all of Ayvondil along with it… To be continued ...

Rather have development update than lore update.