Do not wander in the ruins of Tobaird. For the Lights that fell there are no longer the stars that call the heavens their home, but will-o-wisps that lead you to your demise, corrupted by earthly emotions they were never meant to feel. All corrupted Lights are dangerous, but the Jackrabbit is the least of all evils, so to speak. It is the only Light that primarily haunts the vast cave system beneath the destroyed kingdom, never leaving the tunnels for more than a minute or two, at that. Named both for its appearance and demeanor, the Jackrabbit is perhaps the only Light that will actively avoid others, to such an extent that no fatalities have been recorded caused by it, and only one serious injury. It is considered to be less elusive than the King of Miracles only because there are people who have seen it and not become victims. The following is the account of Drarid Fireglade, one of the few who have survived expeditions into the former kingdom: "...and the caves went for miles, there had to have been another way in! So I went exploring, looking to rejoin my crew - and let me tell you, the things they built down there... it was well enough to rival one of OUR cities! "The whole time, I was hearing things move around. Bugs, probably, but also this scratching noise every now and again. I ain't gonna say I was nervous, but... I'd hoped I wouldn't meet what was making it. "'Course, I DID meet it. It was in a cave at the end of a tunnel, and there were two things there: A lizard, twice as big as me, and [the Jackrabbit], which was twice as big as the lizard. And it happened so fast, as fast as an elf can fire an arrow... one moment, the lizard had the thing cowering against the wall, the next, BOW! [The Jackrabbit] turned it into a smear on the ground! "Gorm knows I got out of there as fast as I could when the beast laid its eyes on me. But the funny thing was, the thing didn't chase! If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was more afraid of me than I was of it..."

Do not wander into the ruins of Tobaird. For the Lights that fell there are no longer the stars that call the heavens their home, but will-o-wisps that lead you to your demise, corrupted by earthly emotions they were never meant to feel. The King of Miracles is the most elusive of such corrupted beings - and thus, the most dangerous. Unlike most other Lights, for which firsthand accounts exist from the few men who have survived expeditions into the destroyed kingdom, almost everything that is known about the King is from outside observations; Secondhand accounts of seeing dozens of people standing perfectly still, gazing into nothing; Of friends, acquaintances, comrades following trails that nobody else could see and never being heard from again. For next to nobody who has met the being themselves has escaped to tell the tale. The following is the translated account of Cassin Layes, the only known person to have escaped the King, from Celestial to Common: "The memories are blurry... I don't remember how I got there. What I was doing before I found it. What I do remember, I remember coming upon the most beautiful scenery, more beautiful than I could put into words. It waited to reveal itself to me - in hindsight, I'm sure it was waiting to confirm I was under its spell. But when it did... I can hardly describe it. It was like a god, tall and magnificent, as radiant as the sun. I could've spent the rest of my life just marveling at it all. That's probably what it wanted... "I don't know how long I was there. I don't remember perceiving time passing at all, though I'm sure it was, even in my delusion. But it was as if it was no time at all. One moment, I was admiring the world it made for me... the next, I was being shaken by [Phoebus Connagh], like he was trying to wake me from a dream."

All you wanted was recognition. When the world was still split between night and day, you and your sister spent eons together perfecting the abyss above. She would carve intricate patterns into every moon she made, and mourned each one's waning. You would cast stars across the abyss, adding depth to the otherwise empty canvas. You were never satisfied with how they landed. For every handful you scattered, just as many you would decide to blot out. Yet however painstaking it was, you felt that every edit took you closer to your envisioned masterpiece. If only others felt the same. Your sister once began to speak of one of the Masters of Day, the Skypainter. She praised him to no end, his visions and skill. She never spoke so highly of someone before. Did she not notice your similar efforts? Or were you truly so inferior? You tried harder, but your eyes were opened. Not one soul seemed to care for your artistry. Even the few that lived in darkness were drawn more to the moon. You grew jealous. But then, it turned into anger. Anger at those who outshined you, and those who ignored you. And then, at it's most unbearable, it was released. It fell upon all you met, in violence and death. It turned you into something vile, set on vengeance and not caring for those harmed in your wake. It was a massacre, culminating in the death of the Skypainter. It was only stopped by an act from the Dayforger. The last you saw was a glint of steel and a blinding flash, before you found yourself in what could only be described as a wasteland. Not a soul roamed the stone and sand. No sun or moon drifted the sky. Just an empty stretch above, and no one to witness you

The Envoys (2/10) Once upon a time, there was a god who personified all ten elements of the world, and his name was Euremos. But as the eons spread out and time began to take meaning, the constant conflict raging inside him as the elements clashed slowly deteriorated his physical form. He knew the world could not handle the untamed energy his death would suddenly release, and so he made a choice: He would bestow ten mortals the full power of one element, at the cost of their memories. The elements would be contained, and with the envoy's death, they would take the mortal perspective and be reborn as a true god. . Celura, formerly Aezja Browntail, is the Envoy of Water. As a Lioettic, her top half is that of a human woman, while her legs are that of a lion. Though every envoy displayed some quality or act that drove Euremos to choose them, it is very... difficult to imagine what Celura did that was so worthy. She, like Yversil, originates from the Lemetsa; However, as she has domain over water, being in the desert grants her significantly more influence than other envoys. Even without her memories, she quickly realized how powerful she is in the region, and grew corrupted with vanity and arrogance. But beneath her new persona, perhaps there is still a shard of that little something that made her worthy of demigodhood. One can only hope...

(The Envoys, 1/10) Once upon a time, there was a god who personified all ten elements of the world, and his name was Euremos. But as the eons spread out and time began to take meaning, the constant conflict raging within him as the opposing elements clashed slowly deteriorated his physical form. He knew that the world could not handle the untamed energy his death would suddenly release, and so he made a choice: He would bestow ten mortals the full power of one element, at the cost of their memories. The elements would be contained, and with the envoy's death, they would take the mortal perspective and be reborn as a true god. . Yversil, formerly Kenè Gallenm, is the Envoy of Undeath. He's not the one that steals your life, but rather the one that leads you to the Windweaver, or in very special cases, returns your spirit in resurrection. Like the others, he does not remember anything before he became an envoy; But unlike them, he was the only one that knew his purpose directly after he gained his domain. Though he hails from the Lemetsa, his responsibilities have him traveling all across the continent to attend to lingering spirits. He may not be the most friendly of the envoys at a glance, but there's a reason that Euremos chose him, even if no one remembers it.

He is the villain of the story. The Bringer of Darkness. The Embodiment of Cruelty. A man who is the living antithesis of justice and purity, and who will stop at nothing to hold the world in his hands. His army grows stronger every day as he conquers more people, and one shudders to imagine what he does to those who display even the most remote signs of mutiny. Countless heroes have tried and failed to challenge him only to be brutally destroyed by his very hand, or worse, broken apart and remolded as loyal servants in his ever expanding empire of tyranny. And you are his child. You came into his life some odd years ago. You were little more than a toddler back then. Your real mother had died in an attempt to flee a village he was encroaching upon, and you, in clueless wandering, found yourself within sight of one of his outposts. Normally, his army would have you taken as a slave, and that would have been the end of it. But Phrixus had a much more devious plan for you. He had ordered that you be brought back to him, to be raised as an heir in the circumstance that he fails. What had actually happened was much less... premeditated. You WERE escorted to his castle with the intention of being molded into the perfect heir. However, as the weeks turned into months, his initial coldness and calculated precision softened around you. He would never admit this change, but the King of Shadows never needs to admit anything. You are older now, and to say the original plan has been forgotten is a kind way to phrase these turns of events. You are largely removed from the violence and fear your father conducts; In fact, he goes to great lengths to ensure your upbringing is laden with privilege and security. You are tutored by only his best, you are fed the finest of meals, and your health is meticulously monitored. He even plays with you whenever he is not terribly busy. Should anyone question his strength for this... he is willing to personally correct them.

Nicholas Calet II, or more commonly just Nycto, was a brilliant bard and a spectacular sorcerer. He would travel the continent, from the swamps of Wilhollow to the adventuring capital of Upphalda, performing for whoever thought to commission him. People used to say he had a very charismatic personality, always with a gracious smile and a flare for the dramatic. But he never let his fame blind him, always putting his duty as a bard first. Or at least, he did. Nobody knows what happened to him. Many think he simply went insane. But the once friendly and noble man suddenly turned cold and distant. Where once he would travel halfway across the continent for a person in need, now you'd be lucky to catch a passing glimpse of him. He's such an enigma, it's become a belief that he was always a myth. A cautionary tale of the price of magic. But you, an (un)fortunate soul, will come across this living legend, and see for yourself that he is not just a story.

Far away from any kingdom or village, where most dare not to explore, is a forest. And in the heart of this forest, where magic is at its strongest, he sits, watching patiently by the lake for any who may pose a threat to the tranquility of his home. The Forest Guardian is an elusive figure, his existence only known as rumors and legends. Not many know how he came to be - some say he was born to protect the land, others say he was once a man chosen by the Goddess of Life herself to join her domain, and others still insist he isn't real, just a story said to scare children. He isn't much of a talker, often prefering to watch from a distance, only stepping in when someone has disrespected the forest. But hidden beneath his aloof and dutiful persona, there may be a bit more to him than what meets the eye... And you? Well, you can be anything! A child, a soldier, a commoner, whatever you choose to make this story your own. After all, no two tales of this figure are ever alike...