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Mother of resurrection, Neow, awakened from her slumber. “Rise.. champion..... again. Again...”

The clouds churn maliciously as The Capital trembles beneath a storm so violent that none dare to leave their homes. Twelve days later, the rain stops. The clouds remain, but the Flame has gone out. The Spire opens its doors once more.

The Blight stopped consuming. The ground, dry and brittle- begins to moisten. The clouds around the Spire douse the lands. The sunlight pierces through newly formed cracks in the clouds. It has been done. Someone had slain the Spire.

The Architect wakes up from the longest of slumbers; the sleep was poor. Memories return in fragments and his surroundings are alien. He is not who he once was.

The Ancients emerged from hiding and head to the Spire... It has been too long since they had received its blessings.

Societies and cultures from around the world make a pilgrimage to the Spire as it becomes the trading hub of the world. Slowly, a burgeoning metropolis began to form at its base.

The Ironclad. A warrior from a faraway land entered the Spire. Driven by pure instinct and accursed blood, he has lost all reason and identity. All who prevent his ascent shall perish.

The Ironclad’s strength surges! The flames of the Demonic pact course through his blood. Cuts and bruises heal rapidly. The Valleyguard are cleaved in two, the Desert Tribe are burned to a crisp, Wind Walkers smashed into the ground, and even a familiar horde of aggressive bronze-cladded warriors are set ablaze with these exciting new flames! All of the Ironclad’s enemies are shown no mercy. All of the Ironclads... Ironclad? ...where is everyone?

For centuries, war raged between the Ironclads and the Valleyguard. Driven by ambition, a young ironclad ventures to the forbidden boundary and bargains with the sacred “Demon”.

“The Spire was mine to rule. But the Architect lives again. Look what he's done to my FACE.” The Demon throws a massive fit, smashing his chamber and setting all manner of things on fire. “My death puppet, brandish my power and kill again. KILL THE ARCHITECT!!”

The Ironclad slays the Heart with its full might... and the Demon's Contract hungrily absorbs the Blight unto itself. Immediately, the warrior and Blight are set ablaze. The parasite is drawn into the flame, its writhing form consumed like wax wicking into a fire.

It is said that a never ceasing flame atop the Spire burns proudly. Proven by the neighboring clouds glowing a gentle violet through the darkest winter nights. Then one day, the clouds were normal. The flame went out.

News of the Spire’s reopening made its way to the Silent. She ferries a boat to The Capital.

The other sisters judge the fourth one in silence... They have not seen her for over three centuries and she returns with an ugly pulsating scrap. The Silent recollects the trials she endured for this trophy but does not speak; to speak is weak. One can only prove herself with more impressive trophies. There is always bigger prey.

A sickness carrying a familiar scent courses through the Silent’s veins, the Heart piece is slowly killing her! The grotesque trophy is hurled into the ocean, but the blight has no cure. She will die soon.

Fantastic trophies occupy this forsaken place. All were defeated, one by one. Those marked by the Silent always fall.

“Hello, little one...!” the massive Tezcatara whispered to the Silent. “Grow big and strong!” The Ancient speaks in a tender tone and scoots over a bowl of nutritious soup.

Another hunt concludes. Stilling the putrid Heart with a special-made poison, the Silent rappels upwards and outwards and longs to bathe in the comforting moonlight. She leaves the Spire with a prize in hand. A piece of the Heart.

Ghastly nightmares of tormented souls stalk the Foglands. She takes it upon herself to hunt the haunter. Once the hunt is complete, its skull is ceremoniously placed upon her by her Sisters. The ritual has concluded.

His Majesty barely even looked anymore and swiped through planet profiles in the current constellation. “I DEMAND to visit a more exciting planet!” The Regent slammed his fists down on the space console— *BEEP BEEP BEEP* Anomalous Planet Detected!

*KABOOOOM* A fantastic explosion marks the arrival of the Regent. His Majesty's spaceship shattered beyond repair. “Finally, I arrive!”

Deadly monsters had begun to trickle out of the Spire at an increasing pace ever since the Doors have reopened... Brave warriors, explorers, and mercenaries have been sent in but few make progress. Even fewer make it back alive. The Regent learns of this dismay and takes it upon himself to become the hero that Preon needs! “I enter!!”

“Defeat!? Me!!? The Regent of Starris, does not know defeat! The strange man at the top of this tower must be defeated by me and only me!” The Regent devises a royally brilliant plan to become stronger. To immortalize this, it is etched into a nearby stone. T R Y H A R D E R

“LITTLE KING. YOU BRIM WITH MIGHTINESS LIKE I!” Tanx is immediately taken with the Regent’s regal confidence. “DOMINATE THE SPIRE! CRUSH THEM ALL!!” he bellows, hurling a strange sceptre toward him. “THIS WILL LET YOU FIGHT ON EVEN GROUND!”

His Majesty attempted to make friends. Literally. They're quite sturdy and decent at following instructions. They're terrible at chess and enjoy pop music. The minions were swiftly demoted from “Friend” to “Minion”. Sigh...

On his home planet, the Regent proclaims to be the heir to the Sun and decides that all the other planets must know! “Why do you wish for this, Regent? We have everything we need! We needn't eat, we have peace, we cannot die, and we are fashionable!” a fellow Starrian pleads. “You are BORING!”

A young explorer unlatched the Forbidden Grimoire... Magics from another time and place explode outward as weightless dark smoke overwhelms this curious one. She gains the Understandings of Life and Death — but at a cost. Her skin, hair, and organs rapidly rot away as her soul is forcefully bound into the locket in her pocket. The Grimoire whispers, “If I die, you die.”

Who is worthy to enter the exalted Spire? The Capital gathers the most brilliant, formidable, and courageous from all the lands. Twelve explorers formed an expedition and advanced inside to make history. None made it back.

“We were but meant to survey the preliminary floors... But it proved nothing like we expected! Such wondrous wildlife, curious artifacts, and even wandering traders. From whence have these marvels arrived? Our team seems intent on hoarding riches but at least my enthusiasm is shared by Geovan. We have fallen madly in love, and soon shall welcome a child into our lives.”

The Necrobinder faced off against the Architect and demands the restoration of the Giant, her parents, her humanity. She’s blazing with vengeance but is annihilated again and again. On one of her ascents, she discovers a massive dragon, Pael. Giving off the same gentle presence as the Giant, he speaks... “This will help you get his attention...”

Today marks a fantastic discovery! A benevolent giant has agreed to guide us to the top of the Spire to meet his brother. We believe this brother of his has the solution to stop the monsters which have been pouring out of the Spire. This would be the greatest accomplishment of our time!

At the top, they finally met with the Giant’s brother, a floating man. They plead for aid but to no avail. “Interlopers aren’t welcome.” Only a little girl made it out alive.

The Defect reboots! Surrounded by a wreckage of molten metal, ash, and thousands of dead bugs!? DATA LOG: <CORRUPT>. Its core barely held together, limbs barely responsive, the Defect scavenges broken panels and pieces from other constructs to patch itself together.

Neow resurrected the defective construct, no simple feat even for an Ancient. “Construct... what you.. ..lost.... Your creator... ..abandoned you.. ...hides..... at the... ..top...” The Defect thanks Neow and heads for the top, seeking answers.

In the Scrapyard the Defect pondered its fate and purpose. Is being okay at a host of functions not desirable? Do we all need to excel at a distinct function? While processing these questions— “Hello!” pops out another construct. “Hello!” Defect responds. “My name is Flaw!”

Defect and Flaw fast became friends and exited the Scrapyard; it was sad there. They return to the Spire’s mid floors and are met with a MASSIVE BUG INFESTATION!! The pair get to work in an attempt to reduce the bugs to a reasonable level.

The Defect entered a disorderly chamber filled with treasures, trinkets, weapons, exotic animals, art pieces, books, and all manner of junk and doodads. The amount of disorder and information is overwhelming for the poor Defect’s processing core. “Outta tha way!” Shouts a megafaunal humanoid riding a threat-level: 9 reptile, but then stops in its tracks and turns to the Defect with a strange grin. “I've got somethin' for ya!”

They confronted the source of the worst bugs: A toxic wasp colony residing in triangular nests. PYEEEEWWWW!! The Defect empties its energy reserves and tears the hexapolis wide open! The Flaw fires a salvo of laser pulses to keep the cloud of stinging retaliation at bay! It's not enough.

The Defect punctured the Heart with a magnificently charged BEEEAAAAM!! Mission accomplished...? Damage Sustained: <CRITICAL> Next Objective: Relocate to Scrapyard for evaluation.

Attracted by the now burning Spire, Orobas’ curiosity was piqued. “Blight gone!! Why gone! Safe to enter!? Orobas enters!!!”

A being of immense power exercises his mastery of form and space once a day, shifting the very nature of the Spire.

“Spire’s reopened eh? More treasures for my collection!” Darv smelled riches in the air and entered the Spire on his trusty steed.

“Caw... Caw caw!!” Such a humiliating defeat... their places of worship and sacrifices desecrated over and over by ruinous invaders. Has Mazaleth forsaken us? Food within the Spire has become scarce as the bug population surges. The Flock escape to the lower rungs of the Spire and scrape by on seaweed and sewer critters.

Currency was invented! Desperate times call for desperate measures... and desperate measures cost Gold! Spend that Gold to acquire a morsel of food, the sharpest of daggers, or a fashionable hat!! Buy something! Approach any blue-clothed merchant on a green rug, and you'll be treated to a fantastic shopping experience. We don't turn away anybody! (Disclaimer: This Epoch description was paid for by Merchant)

Once a source of clean water for all the Spire, the Underdocks falls into disrepair. Aggressive sea creatures emerged from its depths, making a home in the maze-like passages.

Enamored by the growth and stability of flora and fauna, the Architect spends decades researching and refining them... And so, at last, the penultimate creation— “The Ancient Seeds” are complete! The seeds which turned out to be failures, “The Mistakes”, were placed in a heavy coffer and hurled into the ocean’s depths.

The Blight takes hold of the comatose Architect and its poison amplifies! It forms a symbiotic relationship with Neow’s Tree and it hungered to grow and grow. The other Ancients capture the culprit as the Blight ravages the land. They imprison Neow and take shelter from the now unstoppable Blight.

A void of nothingness. But then, the world came into existence! It churned about and molded itself to “That which tells stories.” Along this journey lay a planet named Preon, a mere speck in this universe. They say that a great story about a Spire took place there.

On this quiet planet, Beasts of Imagination began to dot the world. They roam the lands in this time of simple, gleeful violence. Countless ways to kill, to feed, and proliferate are suggested. Colonies, hives, groups, and schools ebb and flow into the nooks and crannies of Preon.

Too many Beasts of Imagination began to populate Preon and things aren’t simple and fun anymore. The creatures didn’t make sense. The monsters don’t follow logic. Maybe there needs to be one which can create, destroy, and control this mess? An entity with its own imagination and will? Let’s Imagine such a being.

Its roots no longer able to draw nourishment from Preon, the Ancient Trees began to wither and die... the once beautiful forests surrender to the weight of eternity. Even Neow’s Tree loses its branches and lush foliage. The last tree is no tree at all. They give it a name.

One of the many Ancients, Neow, grew jealous of the awe-inspiring will of the Architect. She confided with a like-minded sibling and together they created a most potent concoction. The Blight.

The Ancient Trees are not all the same. Each individual tree is shaped by its surroundings. Some are stout and bushy while others are gnarled and knotted. When fully mature, a manifestation of its immense power is born within. An Ancient.

Neow excitedly presented the Architect with a potent tea she had been working on since his prior visit. “This... will help... ..you sleep.....”