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Video: Act 1 Scene 4, The Light in the Ruins

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Kalden Azrus

There. I've done it. Told him off. I don't enjoy such activities, but I must do what is best for the investigation.

I only hope he won't take it too harshly. He is a good healer.

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Tiziana de Felici

Her stalwartness in performing her duties is going to be a source of problems in the near future, that much I can say with certainty - she is too committed to her guild; nothing I say or do seems to rattle her allegiance to it. Perhaps if I learn how she came to be the unflinching, impermeable Marshal that she is, or identify the winds that sway the sails of her heart, might I begin to construct a plan to unravel her loyalties.

Toying with the allegiances of others is not a favourite pastime of mine, but I won't be the first to admit its usefulness in situations such as this.

There must be some way I can shake this undaunted bastion.

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The Cleaver

Few ruins in Ombre are as mysterious as the Cleaver - the jagged protrusions from the soil that form its earthen canopy are clearly unnatural. Considering the availability of Mascherines, it would be sensible to assume that the outcrop was constructed with an intention in mind, and by a wielder of a Mascherine, but geologists and Earthbrands alike have ascertained after years of scrutiny that the formations that compose the Cleaver were not brought into existence with the aid of magic.

How then, did the monument that shelters ruins beneath come into being and what could have had the ability to wrench the innards of the earth so violently to summon it?

These questions had once been at the forefront of the minds of the Vegilus - researchers of the Registry - until the ward that the ruins belonged to, the Shattered Stone, was handed over to the care of the Cacciatore. Since then, few expeditions to the Cleaver have been conducted for the benefit of academia.

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Brekken Tarius

Men who lead from sequestered, distant thrones often steer their people with thin reins; their influence on those they need to inspire seldom galvanises as it ought to. Men like Brekken, however, have come to understand that in order to stir within his people the motivation to not simply live, but thrive on the soils of Ombre, he cannot afford to be so remiss a leader. Barking orders at the backs of his men is insufficient - he must stand with them and lead them from the flank.

It is this camaraderie that the leader of the Cacciatore has developed that has allowed the Green Guild to be as strong as they are. Despite their fondness for solitude, under Brekken's leadership, the Cacciatore have managed to come together to survive, heartily I might add, in both the Citte and the wildernesses of the Echoing Plains.

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Fey: Kilgen

Fey of the stone, found principally in subterranean ruins. These are among the most territorial fey, and also among the most common. Fortunately, they tend to keep to the ruins and rarely bother anyone beyond that.

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Cacciatore

The Cacciatore, or the Green Guild, has few affairs within the Citte itself. Much preferring to be in the wilderness of the Plains or among the branches and roots of the Estra, the people of the Green Guild tend to stay away from urban life and the mire of politics that comes with it.

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Cacciatore: Origins

The Cacciatore is officially the youngest of the Seimora, having properly been formed during the early years of the Seventh Canticle. Compared to the rest of the Seimora, the origin story of the Cacciatore is blissfully simple.

During the Miscela, which began roughly at the end of the Fifth Canticle and lasted all the way to the end of the Sixth, Masquerada from the Randagia flocked towards the Citte in hordes, intent on carving out for themselves a piece of the Citte. Not all of the Masquerada were thirsty for the bustle of city life, however, and a fraction of them willingly chose to stay in the Randagia.

These Masquerada soon realised that the thirst and avarice of the other guilds was insatiable - the guilds from the Citte wanted to expand their grasps and looked at the Randagia as lands that could be claimed, with people that could be exploited. Sensibly, this threatened the way of life of the Masquerada that lived in the Randagia - their primarily agrarian and nature-oriented lifestyle was fundamentally at odds with the political, complicated way the Citte worked. Furthermore, the Masquerada in the Randagia didn't quite have the same relationship with the Contadani of the Randagia, as the Masquerada in the Citte had with the Contadani there - in the Randagia, the relationship between the two groups was far more cordial and respectful and the Masquerada there wished to keep it that way.

And so, in an attempt to keep the influence of the Citte to the Citte, the scattered Masquerada of the Randagia banded together to form a guild under which all the lands of the Randagia were to be protected; any infringement upon any of the lands of the Randagia by any of the other guilds would incure the wrath of those Masquerada that began to call themselves the Cacciatore.

Despite the Cacciatore's primary focus on the Echoing Plains and the settlements around Ombre, the fact that it is one of the guilds of Ombre has required it to have a base of operations, however small, within the Citte itself. Even so, however, they have striven tirelessly to separate themselves from the politics of the Citte as much as has been possible, preferring a simpler life.

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Politics?
Politics.
Politics
Tides! I mean Politics!
Politics...
POLITICS

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The Ruins of Ombre

Before the words 'Citte della Ombre' had even crossed the minds of the settlers of the region, there were the ruins- large, shattered monuments that hinted at a great kingdom that ruled the land in and around the shadow of the mountain Sierra Vede in years long past. Within these gargantuan and mostly subterranean labyrinths hid mainly two things, both as wondrous and as frightening as the other - Mascherines and Fey. The acquisition of the former and the banishment of the latter were key milestones in the growth and flourishing of the Citte.

As the Citte grew and expanded, however, the ruins that had once been lauded as great mines of power slowly began to grow obsolete.

Coin and politics began to appeal to the peoples of the lands as more suitable avenues of power, as the finite treasures of the ruins became more and more difficult to extract from the shadows. And so the pieces of the already crumbling physical culture of an ancient civilisation were walled off and mostly forgotten, and with them, myriads of secrets that to this day remain undiscovered.

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Amadea Invidius

So she's a Sicario. It is clear from the way she moves - nimble, alacritous, agile - and it surprises me, considering she is from the Dieci. I hold nothing against the Opal Guild, of course, but all in the Citte know that they are the least proficient in the Fisica. I'd have expected her to be a Dirge at least, or perhaps a practitioner of the Visiva; when we eventually catch up to her I might be interested in asking about her training.

Another fact that surprises me is her ethnicity. Often those in the Dieci are of Rhunic descent, but the girl has hair the colour of fire and freckled skin. Of course, having someone that is not ethnically Rhunic as part of the Opal Guild is not unheard of, but it is nevertheless surprising.

A mere minute spent with her has left me with more questions and no answers; I'd best resume the search.

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Amadea Invidius

All right. Some progress has been made at least. The woman - though she could be no more than a quarter century old - has allowed us to travel with her. I must say, for one belonging to the Dieci, she is cold. Often the members of the Opal Guild are gregarious and boisterous, but she is reserved and more than willing to coat her words in ice. She seems to want to have nothing to do with us as well, which any Inspettore would tell you is all the more reason to keep a suspect as involved as possible.

Her interest in the ruins is rather peculiar as well. Intent on preserving what little is left intact, she has proven herself remarkably concerned about the bones of the Dimenticate civilisation. I understand I return to this notion continually, but every moment more I spend with her, the harder I find it to believe that she belongs to the Dieci Sovrani; its members would be willing to bring the entire ruin down if you paid them enough crescents.

I do not believe I am going to tease any answers out of her anytime soon, however. She has made the terms of our engagement painfully clear - help her clear out the ruins of the fey and she brings us to where she and Razitof worked. What lies in store for us after, I cannot possibly begin to guess.

Who let the civilian in here?!

Amadea is your dedicated Sicario--all about mobility and agility, like Cicero says. Rock be Amadea's favored element. Cicero's own Earthbrand skills are centered around area attacks with optional debuffs, but Amadea largely deals in charging attacks and ranged attacks focused on a single target.

I never noticed until now that Amadea's AI defaults to never using Burrow. I'll uh, fix that later.

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The Dimenticate and the Cataclysm

The Dimenticate. The Forgotten Ones. Those who roamed the lands of Ombre before Ombre even had a name.

Time has been unkind to their legacies; knowledge about their society is scant in what writings have endured the eroding sands of passing epochs. Most of what's survived are tales about their grand conquests - how they used their Mascherines to dominate the lands around them, how their empire swallowed and crashed over countless others, merciless in their expansion, devastating in their efficiency.

Yet, despite their seemingly unstoppable expansion, the Dimenticate met their end, a little earlier than any would think natural. Scholars and historians have come to believe that the fall of their empire was sudden and severe - not a single tale of sour days leading up to the end has been found. It was all greatness and prosperity...

And then nothing.

This has led them to believe that the fall of the Dimenticate must have been precipitated by an apocalyptic event, catastrophic in scale, for the reach of the Dimenticate brushed every corner of the continent, and then none of them. To this event, the Vegilus have given a name: the Cataclysm.

In modernity, the Dimenticate and the spectacles of their time are rarely discussed. The minds of the modern Ombrian are far too filled with thoughts - lusts, even - for blood and power and politics, for them to hold any space to care for the past. It is a pity, I'd say, for if they'd not been so deaf to the echoes of the songs that had once been sung, they might've realised just how many answers to their current conflicts lay in the forgotten cradle of the Citte.

The floor is lava.

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Dimenticate Architecture

High arches. Angles, angles everywhere. The inscriptions into the stonework, even, were angular, precise. Is that what the ancient people were like as well? I could just imagine them, all lines and rows of discipline. Even the Luca's order, with their strict rows of gold, would hold nary a candle to what I imagined the Dimenticate to be.

Our voices echoed through the chambers - the very same chambers through which the voices of the people before us had once resounded. What would they have thought of us, I wondered - us who wore their ornaments, who traipsed on the bones of their land?

"We do not belong here," whispered Corvus. We have few superstitions in Ombre; Corvus' Zoric blood seemed to have granted him an inheritance of them, however. "These walls. They are watching us."

"With what, the eyes of the dead?" Riva smiled. "Corvus, my dear, it's been thousands of years."

"And still, their gazes rest on our shoulders. Still, their ears press against our lips," he said, turning back to the broken pillars and shattered walls. "Can't you feel it? These walls - they are more than stone and dust. These had once been the skeleton of a monument! How majestic these halls must have once been, how much power must have coursed through their corridors. These stones, they have seen more grandeur in their lives than we will in all of ours combined! You think these materials could have come into contact with such greatness and remained unchanged? They contain fragments of souls invested into the world, remnants of the blood and sweat of our forebears. They are not dead. They never will be." He turned back to the rest of us. "Should that not be even greater reason to leave these ruins alone?"

"Cloying sentimentality," Ophina scoffed. "You are aware that you speak of rubble and dirt, yes?"

A sad look crossed Corvus' face, and he opened his mouth for a brief moment, as if in protest. Something else quickly skirted his mind, however, and he simply shook his head instead.

A chill wind blew through the tunnel and I shivered, though whether from the draught or from something else, I was uncertain. "We should make our sketches and leave," I said. We were here for one thing, and one thing alone - to trace the inscriptions as part of our studies as Inspettores.

"I agree with Cicero," Lucia said. "Our beliefs here should not stay our working hands."

We each left the others to find an inscription large enough to take a tracing of. We took out our pieces of charcoal and our parchment, and we began tracing.