Game text

902,736 entries

• The fish is trying to escape your clutches.
• Additional Shards vs. Isolated
• I'm much too busy at the moment.
• Let's come back to this later.
• Eldritch Horror Harvesting Tool
• I have no need for it any longer, and I am certain it has none for me.
• Episode 2: Aetherblade Retreat
• Ursan Weapon Chest[s]
• Investigate
• Relic[s] of Evasion
• Fast on your feet, you are! Impressive.
• Mysterious Tablet
• Postprocessing Preset:
• Take me to the View from the Top adventure!
• Twice Stricken: Hearth's Glow
• The Fangs That Gnash
• Deliver nourishment to %num2% hungry Kryptis.
• The meal has been ruined.
• Tell me what you did to the Heart.
• Tell me, visitor, do you like honey? Of course you do! Who can resist sweet nature's nectar? Not us bearkin.
• Stone Sweep
• Never mind, I don't need anything.
• Nothing yet. With any luck, the scouts got turned around in this fog and simply wandered off course.
• %str1%%str2%Polychromatic Light Pants%str3%%str4%
• Mask of the Jubilee Skin[s]
• Relic[s] of Speed
• %str1%%str2%Solar Astrolabe Greatsword%str3%%str4%
• Any tips for me?
• Poised Arrow. Son of Stoic Alder and Silken Weir. You?
• I was just awoken by screams and what sounded like the low reverberations of beating wings. I've closely watched the goings-on in what appears to be an amphitheater or coliseum below. I can only assume it has seen better times. Or at least more significant times. I recall Grink chittering about it being a place of historical infamy, but I'm unable to verify that claim. A few Kryptis come and go, but for the most part it seems unoccupied. Until now. I do not want to meet whatever creature is associated with those reverberations. It's easy to believe this was once a place of tragedy. Perhaps one day this great arena can be a venue for glorious happenings if Lady Peitha succeeds. I hope I live to see it. For now, I must find safer refuge, so I will work my way past this decrepit arena and continue north. —Operative Selly
• You remind me of dancing with my mate back in our day...
• You have successfully cooked a meal.
• Follow my steps, and you'll be set.
• %str1%%str2%Polychromatic Medium Jacket%str3%%str4%
• Cabbage
• Fortunate Greatsword
• Relic[s] of Lyhr
• Whether you've learned the tongue of the trolls or not, this recipe will have you speaking their language. Given to us from a member of their tribe, this pairing of fresh fruits and vegetables with honey as a binding agent and sweetener will leave even the most sated kin coming back for more. INGREDIENTS: - Cabbage - Fruit - Honey - Carrot
• Valravn Stew Recipe
• Relic[s] of Leadership
• Skysage's Gloves
• Continue to clear the area for Ramses's scouts.
• I am safe for a time. My notions of master espionage shattered, I was dragged by a Kryptis patrol inside Heitor's Gate, ostensibly to be presented to Heitor herself. Ignaxious—see Field Report 2—observed my presence and ordered I be released into his custody instead. The patrol leader resisted initially, insisting Heitor's orders were to deliver any detainees to her directly, but after a few moments of silence (during which I can only assume Ignaxious appealed to him telepathically), the patrol leader's resistance turned quickly to acquiescence. Recalling his ambition and loyalties, I deceived Ignaxious, posturing as a high-ranking member of the ward with valuable information. He believed my fabrications initially and enthusiastically secreted me through a series of portals to a location secure enough to question me at his leisure, telepathically. I believed myself quite strong, mentally, and my Astral Ward training did help, to a point. But as the questioning became increasingly spirited, my façade cracked. Soon Ignaxious discovered the truth, and no questioning technique wounded me as much as his final words: "A research lackey turned ineffectual mole. Feed it to the rabble." —Operative Selly
• Met Ellen Kiel
• Achievement Eligibility: Personal Space
• When depleted, foes will temporarily suffer a negative effect.
• %str1%%str2%Ursan Ornamented Rifle%str3%%str4%
• I am out of sorts. In recent days, I believed myself a master spy, a valuable prisoner of war, and a hubristic plaything for capricious demonlings. The latter is the only belief that has proven true. Camouflaged in view of Heitor's Gate, I tracked the comings and goings of the enemy's patrols. No discernable patterns or schedules emerged. Rather than return empty handed, I lingered to collect more data. I can only conclude (in retrospect) that there was no pattern—the patrols were likely at the conflicting whims of Heitor and Ignaxious. This is evidenced both by my data and the fact that while the first several patrols marched past me, the last witlessly stumbled directly into my hiding spot. Not to mention my firsthand experience with Ignaxious countermanding the orders of Heitor's guards. More on that later. A pack of the aforementioned doglike demons approaches. I must move. —Operative Selly
• Initial Damage
• No, thank you. I'm good.