DragonOfTime

I do not believe that any major publishing is going to happen. This is a non-profit project, so all the money coming in through Patreon is being used to keep the game and website running. You are all welcome to spread the word however. This will likely be the way the game spreads, unless some games media decides to cover us. Regarding wipes, yes, there will be one or more content wipes, so do not get too attached to your cards.

As it is, the game itself does not have a framework for guilds, and I do not believe that it is likely to be implemented. However, you are free to use the forum to try and collect members to form a guild if you so wish.

Thread cleaned up. In the future, please do not use this thread to report your issues. We have a very nice system for that, so please use it, rather than clogging up this thread. Thank you.

Moved to solved.

This is a known issue and a duplicate of a recent thread. Please look at other threads and familiarize yourselves with the known issues here before making new threads. /closed

As has been stated earlier, this is a known issue. Please familiarize yourselves with the known issues here before making new threads. /closed

Begging for cards is not allowed, please see the rules. If you wish to purchase one, make a thread in the trade section. /closed

I'm sorry, but all posts must be in English. Please remember that in the future.

If you and your friend each play on only one account, it should be fine. If you run into any trouble, contact the Community Manager. Also, please familiarize yourself with the rules in general. /closed

I don't think it is likely that any setups not available in back in the day will be available now. The max PvP size was 3v3.

I think my best bit of advice is to not act aggressively or offensively. Don't take offence. If someone is a jerk to you, don't be a jerk to them, either ignore them, or even better, be nice and positive. If people are being jerks and you just go on being nice to them, they will feel bad and treat you better. Don't fight fire with fire. Don't get angry. Don't question the validity of what people tell you.

In a matter of hours, the council of regents was convened. It consisted of those who were the late queen's closest advisors and was entrusted with the task of leading the nation of Lyr through this interregnum. Jarrik was part of the council, having served as the queen's strategic advisor as well as guard captain. This was much to the chagrin of the other councillors, how could a lowborn such as he be on the council of regents? Who did he think he was? Rogan Kayle? Nobility should be respected, and being at the beck and call of this thatcher's son was straining their patience. Being awoken at this hour did nothing good for their disposition, but they did their duty. Ish'Faithal met with the council in the Steward's Chamber, a small room to the side of the throne room normally used for private meetings of the Queen's Council. At the head of the table, on a chair considerably more opulent than the others, sat Vincent Chisford of Wilkinholm. He had been the queen's master of spies and had now taken leadership of the council of regents. A noble of the finest and purest blood, he claimed descent from the old royal family, before the death of the sun drew people underground. He was a strong proponent of reestablishing monarchy as quickly as possible, preferably with himself as king. "Speak intruder," he said, "explain to us why we should not execute you for the murder of our beloved queen."

8/10 Pretty nice

9/10 for nostalgia

Apparently this one

Ish'Faithal knew that he would have to act quickly, if he was to find the people responsible for the regicide in Lyr. He had done all he could in the forest for now, so he would travel onwards. He had in his grasp a thread of the truth, the thread that would form the core of the tapestry of things to come. He would have to follow it to the very end, to see the picture that would be woven unfold. If he were to lose it, there would be no guarantee of finding it ever again. Ish'Faithal turned his head just so, seeing the gaps and crevices of this plane, he mapped out the shortest route though the web to Lyr, and then stepped through the veil. The guard almost fell off the wall in shock, as Ish'Faithal moved out from behind him. "Stop! Alarm! Intruder!" he yelled, brave defender of Lyr as he was. Ish'Faithal had materialised on the ramparts of Lyr's Royal Citadel. The residence of the Lyrish royal family since original founding of Lyr, before the sun went out. It had been abandoned during the dark years, when man lived underground, and when they emerged into the light of the new sun, the Twilight Wars took precedence over the repairs. Once the wars were over however, and the people of Lyr had triumphed under the leadership of king Rogan I, with the assistance of the Skylords, repairs had progressed quickly. Even in its most decrepit state, it had been a formidable fortress, towering over the city around it. The foundations were hewn from the mountains by giants in the earliest times, and the citadel had only been expanded since. Much of the complex was uninhabited, as it contained miles of underground tunnel. In the event of an outside threat to the capital city, the entire population could be settled in the bowels of this majestic structure, and there would still be plenty of room to spare. Massive quantities of food was stored in the subterrratean storerooms, and food enough to feed the city could be grown in the various gardens, both above and below ground, where many species of edible fungi thrived on the clean water of the Lyrish springs. There was even a grotto, containing a complex network of hot springs and geysers, whose waters heated the entirety of the citadel. The citadel could outlast any besieging army, and its walls could not be breached save by an act of god. An increasingly unlikely possibility, given their deaths years before. Only treachery could bring this fortress down, as it had no doubt done to its mistress, the queen Tyria. Since her death, the citadel had been sealed off, to prevent the escape of her assassin, which made the guard's yell that much more unexpected. Moments later, a squad of imperial guards, responding to the call, arrived. They arrayed themselves in a semicircle arround Ish'Faithal and the guard, their spears pointing radially inward. The man who appeared to be their leader, judging by the amount of gold trimming on his armour, raised his visor. "So you have finally chosen to show yourself, foul demon. I knew that someone like you would turn up eventually, no brave defender of Lyr would betray her majesty. Is this your true form then, fiery spawn of hell, or do you have another, even more repugnant way of showing yourself and the flames of injustice that burn within you?" Ish'Faithal looked into the man's soul, who was this soldier, the epitome of loyalty and devotion? The man in question was Jarrik, captain of the palace guard for the last twenty-five years. Still a formidable fighter, though his speed was not what it had been. Tyria was more than just his queen, she had been like a daughter to him, as he was like a father to her. He was the one who brought her up,after her parents died in a bandit ambush near the border those exact same twenty-five years ago. The royal couple had been surveying border outposts when their party had come under attack. There had been no survivors from the royal party, or from the town they were passing through. Luckily Tyria, then a three year old princess, had been left at the citadel, so she had survived. As the former captain had died defending his king, Jarrik had been promoted. After what had happened to the king and queen, he became fiercely protective of the new queen, rarely ever leaving her side (to her great annoyance during her teenage years). A strong bond was formed between them, and as this was now severed, Jarrik had made it his life's final mission to avenge his queen, even if it was the last thing he would ever do. "I am here for the same reason you are. I seek the truth." Ish'Faithal's booming voice suddenly dominated the battlements, drowning out the howling of the wind and the clink of armour. "And you will show me the respect I am due, for I bring grave tidings. Tidings of the utmost importance." The guards went pale inside their helmets and the one who had originally been alarmed by Ish'Faithal's presence took a few stumbling steps backwards. The spirit followed up on this, "Calm yourself and your men, Jarrik of Wetherlain, for I know what you wish for. You are blinded by your desire for vengeance, to the point where it drowns out your sense of justice. I have come here to aid you all. Please, convene the council of regents, I want to speak with them. A threat far more dire than that from an assassin of the fire tribes is upon us."

The faint trail led Ish'Faithal through the woods until he reached a clearing, he had used his magic to move faster along the trail than any mortal would, and here, under the faint light of the stars, where they shone through this hole in the woodland canopy, he caught up with the so-called prophet. Ish'Faithal called out in his most intimidating magically amplified voice, "Arrest your movement, murderer!" The hooded figure stopped immediately, in shock. Not so much because he was intimidated by Ish'Faithal's voice, but rather because he had never imagine that he could have been followed. He had hidden his tracks so well, no mortal would have been able to detect him, who was this figure behind the voice, beckoning him to bring his escape to a halt? He turned around to look at Ish'Faithal and drew back his hood. This revealed the face of an elderly man, but he had markings across his bald head that shone as if with some inner light, as did his eyes. Gazing into his eyes was akin to looking directly at the sun. This man obviously commanded powerful magic. "Who are you, who presumes to tell me what to do?" Ish'Faithal just stood there, watching the man silently for a while. He was wondering how much to tell him. He should of course tell no more than he had to, but by talking to this man, he might gain some information about his identity, his goals and his compatriots, for surely he wasn't working alone, and it was obvious that he had a deeper goal. After what seemed like an eternity, but which was in reality a matter of seconds, Ish'Faithal responded, sounding no less formidable than when he had commanded the man to stop, "I am a protector of this world and these woods, you are a threat to the balance, and you must be dealt with. Balance and justice shall reign." The mans lips moved slightly, becoming a smile, before he began chuckling darkly. "So you view us as a threat, do you? How do you mean to stop us, how do you even imagine that you will stop me? What army are you hiding among the trees that you think can bring me down? I have some news for you, you cannot win this. I suggest you walk away before I have to kill you." So he had been right, Ish'Faithal thought. This man was part of something larger, and he must be a powerful sorcerer. He would still have to find out his motives however, and if possible what this group was. He imagined that this man might be the type who would reveal his secrets, if he deemed that the recipient would have no chance of escaping alive. Ish'Faithal would play the part of the brave fool then, and hope that he was only playing the part, rather than becoming it. "There is no army, there is only you and me, and you will not escape, I will stop you, for I am the protector of this world!" The man chuckled again, maybe it had paid off. "So you think that you, a mere forest guardian spirit, can stop me, a prophet of the Order of the Circumradiant Dawn? Please, do not take me for some village conjurer. I have set things in motion that you cannot even begin to imagine. The balance shall be broken and the darkest night will fall, but after the darkest night, shall come the brightest day, and the world that was dead shall be born anew in the light of the Circumradiant Dawn, cleansed of all that has polluted it. This world is sick and must be euthanized, so that a new world can rise, like a phoenix from its ashes. It is a shame that neither of us will be there to see it, but such is the price of purity; nothing can be saved if everything must be cleansed." then his smile faded, "Now, however, I have told you too much and I must destroy you, lest you should jeopardize this vision. I am sorry, but you will protect this forest no longer." In a split second, just about half the time it takes to blink, the man had raised his hands and an arc of lightning originating from the man's palms struck the ground in the exact spot where Ish'Faithal had been when the man had begun his movement. Now however, Ish'Faithal was right behind the man, his staff moving with frightening speed towards the prophet's right temple. Just before it hit its mark, however, it hit some sort of energy shield and Ish'Faithal was pushed back. The prophet pirouetted and sent another bolt towards Ish'Faithal, this time it was avoided by a much smaller margin. This way they continued for a while, neither was able to harm the other, at some point, possibly hours later, both had lost the track of time, the prophet began to tire. He decided that it was now or never, he had to strike the killing blow or escape quickly, preferably both. He built up a massive amount of energy, all of his reserves, in his palms and launched it directly at Ish'Faithal, the force of the blast sending him flying in the opposite direction. Ish'Faithal saw the blast and realized its power, in order to escape its blast, ha would have to move so far away that he wouldn't be able to find the prophet again, so he saw only one option: He stayed in place. He did not merely stay in place, however, he filled the entire clearing with a stasis field, allowing no other magic. The energy bolt dissipated immediately and the prophet was thrown against a tree at the edge of the clearing and he fell to the ground. All magic had ceased, so the glow in his eyes and his head also faded, and what was left was an old man with holes in his head and open cavities where his eyes should have been. He then uttered in a frail voice, the three words that were to be his last, "What... are you?" Then his body, unable to hold itself together without the aid of magic, became dust and was blown away by a passing breeze. There was nothing more that Ish'Faithal could do here, but he had gotten what he wanted: information. Additionally, he had defeated an agent of the enemy, though this robbed him of the chance of extracting more information from him. He had to go somewhere else to gather more information about this so-called Order of the Circumradiant Dawn, the only other place where he was certain of their activities, to the City of Lyr in the Frost Kingdom, where Tyria, the Frost Queen, was murdered.

Revenge of the Titans

Real men only post their own screenshots.

Ish'Faithal left the conclave and unattached himself from time. The meeting would go on for several more hours before finishing for today, and he didn't feel like waiting, so Ish'Faithal took a shortcut through time, arriving the same evening in Trebor's hut. Trebor was talking to a hooded figure, neither of them had noticed him yet, so Ish'Faithal stayed quiet, letting events unfold. The unknown figure was speaking, "... are glad you share our concerns. The shadow realms are a threat to us all, especially now, after the assassination of Aerion by their agents." "Yes, about that," Trebor responded, "a spirit came to the council today with allegations most disturbing, claiming that the Shadow Realms are not to blame at all, but rather some secret brotherhood." The hooded figure was quiet for a few moments before responding, "This is disturbing indeed, that a spirit could be mislead like this, and would bring such nonsense to the conclave. How did the conclave respond?" "Sadly, it was not immediately dismissed as the nonsense it is, but at least the council stated that they would not believe it unless they were presented with proof. Luckily, this will mean that his efforts will be fruitless, since there can be no proof of what does not exist. It is a shame however, that the conclave seemed to take his plea for caution to heart. Now is not the time for caution, now is the time for action! We must strike the first blow in this war, for it will be a blow of retaliation!" There was a long pause before the hooded man spoke again, "The armies of Nature and Shadow must clash before long, or all will be lost. We must use more powerful means of persuasion to ensure that the conclave makes the right decision. We must convince them that the Shadow Realms are the real threat, and that they must act immediately, or all will be lost. I am glad that I can count on your support and your persuasiveness." The shaman was eager, "Yes of course, anything for the cause!" this time the hooded figure replied quickly, like a sinister echo of Trebor, "of course, anything for the cause." From the folds of his cloak, he drew a blade and stabbed Trebor in the heart. "Have no doubt. This will prove persuasive." He left the dagger in Trebor's chest, the blood flowing from the wound, as he opened the door and left the hut, into the darkening night. Ish'Faithal moved faster than the laws of physical space would normally allow in order to reach Trebor's side. It was as he had feared, the hilt of the blade protruding from the dying shaman's chest was unmistakably that of a Nihil Blade, a type of blade used solely by the top shadow assassins. Unlike most Nihil Blades however, it was coated in godsbane venom, one of the two poisons used by Spirit Hunters. Lifebane venom was the fastest working, but at least there was hope. If poisoned by lifebane, one could be healed or shielded. It took longer to die from godsbane, but godsbane was always fatal, no exceptions. At least among mortals. Ish'Faithal threw a slowing field around Trebor's heart, buying him a few more seconds of life. Precious seconds to talk. "Who was that man?" Ish'Faithal asked, Trebor, his eyes unfocused, replied with an uneven voice, "He is the prophet. He is the guiding light in a world of darkness, he will help us defeat the shadow." Those were Trebor's final words. Ish'Faithal sensed strong magic on the hilt of the blade, undoubtedly to cause grievous harm to anyone who might attempt to remove it. He would no doubt be able to remove it, but it would take time, and time was of the essence. Ish'Faithal had quickly put two and two together, the hooded figure must be an agent of the secret organisation working against the doom of Nyn. His past had been cloaked in veils, and his future had been indeterminable. Ish'Faitha's only hope of finding him, was to act fast, he must follow the faint trail the figure left in the timeweb as he passed throught the world, before it dissipated. He left Trebor's hut, and quickly picked up the trail, and he followed it away from the clearing and into the forest.

A heavy silence fell upon the conclave when Ish'Faithal's booming voice had uttered his final words; it was as if the forest itself held its breath in anticipation of what was to come next. Finally another sage rose to join the debate, Trebor of Uthwalm, also known as The Dark Shaman, raised his voice and spoke, "We are grateful for your advice, Spirit, if that is what you truly are. For we have ourselves conversed with the spirits, and they told us a different tale. We were told that this was an assassin of darkness, and why should we disregard the spirits that guide us? You say that you are of those who see all, yet you have not seen this? I will tell you something, just before you came, Arqwan told us of a vision that he had, he saw that the minds of the conclave were poisoned by an entity veiled in shrouds and darkness. One who appeared fair, but whose innards were as rotten as death itself. I say we do not need to worry about this vision any longer, for we have found the being it concerns. You are an impostor, sent here by the Shadow Realms to stop us from preparing for war, so they can destroy us with ease! We will not fight for glory, we will fight for survival!" Ish'Faithal was deeply disturbed by what Trebor had said. Of course Trebor would be skeptic of his plan to avoid confrontation with The Shadow Realms, as his home, Uthwalm, lay in the heart of the Darkwoods, the forest bordering the wastes of the Shadow Realms. Here, border skirmishes with the forces of shadow were a very real thing, and Trebor had felt the touch of darkness on his own body. As a child, he had been afflicted in a plague of the Befallen's Curse, where he had been the only infected to survive, leaving him horribly disfigured, his skin having turned dark purple and with a multitude of blisters and tumorous growths on his body. This was what had given him his epithet of "The Dark", and he was always one of the sages arguing for an aggressive stance on the Shadow Realms. What worried Ish'Faithal the most, however, was his remark about the spirits, and how they had told him what happened. Either he was lying, or someone was pretending to be the spirits. Ish'Faithal didn't know which of these options would be worst, but he had to find out. He turned his gaze to Trebor's past, and he saw the death and decay that Trebor had witnessed. He saw Trebor grow up, fight the Shadows at every possible moment, he saw how he became the xenophobic demagogue of the darkwoods, which got him into power. His negative view on the Shadow Realms and his calls for stronger measures against them were popular in Uthwalm, where Shadow was a very real threat. Soon he became elected their Sage, and he used his influence in the conclave to block all calls for reconciliation and cooperation with the Shadow Realms, being the de-facto leader of the anti-shadow faction of the sages. It was not the most powerful faction, that being the conservative status-quo faction, but it was among the top powers in Nature politics. Somewhere along the timeline though, holes started to appear. Points in time shrouded in darkness, impenetrable to Ish'Faithal's vision. He quickly realized that this could only mean one thing, either Trebor was the murderer, or he was in league with him. He must be the shrouded entity that Arqwan's vision had told about, and he had used this vision to cast suspicion on Ish'Faithal, to undermine his credibility and perhaps even try to destroy him. Ish'Faithal knew that he could not now achieve what he had come here to accomplish, but he had accomplished something. He now knew that this murder, and probably also the murder of the Frost Queen was merely a part of a much larger and more sinister plot, and he was the only one who could stop it. He must move on as quickly as possible, and gather information about this secret organisation, trying to bring about the end of the world. Ish'Faithal knew that he must act carefully now, or all would be lost. His precognition told him that Arqwan was the key, while he couldn't be persuaded to abstain for retaliation, he could be persuaded that Ish'Faithal was not the threat his visions had shown, and that he should act with temperance. And thus, Ish'Faithal was able to author his response, "Forgive me wise sages, for my interruption. I know you cannot act on my advice before I have evidence for my claims, for I realize that they are beyond the parametres of what is considered believable, I ask of you only that you consider it, and remember what I have told you, for one day before too long, I shall return with proof of my allegations. I ask you therefore, do not strike out with such force that it cannot be stopped. All things must be done with temperance, and in the end, balance must be restored. Do not upset the balance beyond the point of restoration, for then it will mean doom to us all." Ish'Faithal could feel Trebor's fury, but the conclave took his words to heart. While he could not end the war before it began, he now had the key, he must find the truth behind the shrouds, and he had only one lead: Trebor.

Nope

How about this one?

It had been a long time, in mortal terms, since the last time Ish'Faithal wore a body. He once again felt the breeze upon his naked skin, absorbing the essences of the woods around him. He took a deep breath, though he did not need to breathe. He smelled the scents of the deep forest; though the world was ravaged, no change had yet come to this, the deepest glades of Tell'Werth. No mortal had trod here in several hundred millennia, this was the pristine wood where the veil was thin. This was the easiest place to cross over between Nyn and The Web, and it was the only place in the material world where Ish'Faithal felt truly at home. Just like in The Web, time had ceased to have meaning in this place, the trees here were no ordinary trees, they had become akin to gods. The Old Gods of the forest, though very few knew this. The glade still had the air of the First Magic about it, a magic older than the Gods, a magic older than the world itself. This was where life had come from nothingness, this was the wellspring of creation. Of course, the other elements had their own such places of power, though these were even more inaccessible, after all, the only of the four primary forces that made the world that does not cause death, is life, and life is the core at the heart of nature. The fire tribes have Mount Urgozai, where the fire burns so hot, even rock becomes vapour in a matter of seconds. Even the most powerful magma fiends and batariels cannot go there, they emerge from the lesser mounts surrounding it. Mount Urgozai is the furnace of the world, and if its fire was ever to go out, the world would end in eternal ice. The frost nations have the Frozen Wastes at the top of the world, the origin of the Avatars. However, at the very top of the world is a place so cold, that coldness itself loses its meaning. Here, at the very top of the world, air and ice will melt into a substance that is liquid and yet not. Even the avatars cannot go there, this is the place where cold itself will freeze and all energy will be lost into the vortex of not-ice. This is how many prophecies say that the world will end, the cold at the top of the world will gradually drain the warmth from everything around it, leading to the eventual ice-death of Nyn, when Mount Urgozai no longer burns and all is but ice. The rest of the prophecies talk of The Void. In the heart of the shadowed wastelands, where the sun cannot penetrate the dark clouds, there is rumored to be a cave that has no bottom. Instead of the bottom, there is only the abyss, the Death-That-Lives. It is not alive or sentient in any way mortals, or even the gods would understand, but it is said, that when you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back, and none have lived to tell of this. There are those who say that this is similar to the wrathgazers, though infinitely more powerful. The most powerful and foolhardy wrathgazers in history, believing themselves more powerful than the abyss itself, have tried to gaze into it, but all have met their end this way. This, however is no ordinary death, this is the death of the soul, the essence of death itself. All that is conscious is obliterated, devoured by this void at the heart of the world. It is said that one day, this void will emerge from its cave, and all of creation shall be devoured in its eternal hunger. Ish'Faithal knew that in the end, all of these possibilites were true. The future could happen in any number of ways, and someday the world was going to end. In fact, unless he could put a stop to the current conflict, it was more than likely that this end would come around soon. No element must be allowed to obtain complete dominance over the others, and no element must become too weakened, for unlike in the prophecies, there were two other possible apocalypses. If the Frost nations should be annihilated, or the Fire Tribes obtain dominance, Mount Urgozai would erupt, engulfing the entirety of Nyn in its cleansing flames, burning everything until the end of time, so there would be nothing but flame, as at the moment, the infinite fire is only kept in check by the eternal frost. If the shadow realms should fall, and the abyss thus lose its influence on the world, or the forces of nature should achiece dominance over the world, the most horrible of all the apocalypses would become reality. The spark of life would have no death to oppose it, and all would live, there would be no death and all would live. Every tool, every piece of clothing, every rock, every grain of sand would become alive, and the entire world would be engulfed in eternal madness, as every limb of everyones body would have a life of its own, and it would never end, for death would have been conquered. That is why Ish'Faithal knew that he must stop this war, before it brought about the end of the world, for he had seen the world's end, in all of its different forms, and it was not something he would like to experience. He thought about all of this as he moved through the glade, Aerion the Grand Sage was murdered and war was inevitable, but he must try and end it as soon as he could, he must talk to the leaders of all the elemental factions, and he would start with the nature faction, for this was the faction with whom he shared his affinity. As the ruler was dead, there would be a ruling council in place, the council that would in the end choose the next Grand Sage, Aerion's successor. He must speak with them before it was too late. Time was of the essence, so he said his goodbyes to the ancient spirits of the God-Trees and he moved quickly to the sacred gathering-place of the council, taking space-time shortcuts through the web-strands connecting the world, allowing him to move thousands of leagues in seconds without even using time-stoppage. He was glad that the webbage was so favourable, but of course it was. The web-weavers of time had seen this eventuality and prepared for it. However, there was one thing that worried Ish'Faithal greatly, and aroused suspicion that the poisoner was not merely an agent of the Shadow Realms: He was shrouded by the mists of time; even though the event had already happened, the identity of the murderer was hidden from the spirits of The Web. It must be an immensely powerful group with knowledge of pieces of the most ancient magic, and it must be the same group who murdered the queen of Lyr, for her killer was similarly shrouded in mystery, even to those who could see all of time before them. Ish'Faithal appeared in the middle of The Circular Table, the hollowed out stub of an ancient oak, with a diameter of many metres. The Elders of the enclaves of nature were seated around the table in heated discussion, which stopped in the moment that Ish'Faithal appeared from thin air in their midst. There was a deep silence for a few seconds, before Arqwan, an elder shaman, a favourite to become the next Grand Sage, rose, and said in his booming voice, "Who are you, who would disturb the Conclave of Sages at this critical time, and how did you get here?". Ish'Faithal saw into his past, Arqwan had been the shaman of a small forest community that had been attacked in the Twilight Wars, but he had read the signs of the forest and seen that the Twilight had been on their way, so he had evacuated his village, and they had fled to the major forest city of Aw'Garr. Here quickly rose to prominence, both for his skill as a healer, his observance in regards to nature and as a result of his general wisdom. Before long, he was chosen to represent Aw'Garr in the Conclave of Sages as the Sage of Aw'Garr. He had done this for the past thirty years, and everyone on the council respected his wisdom. He had been a close friend and advisor to Aerion, the former Grand Sage, and now he was hoping to become elected the next Grand Sage, as he was sure that he would lead his people to glory in the face of this external threat, for the people of nature had grown prosperous in the years since the Twilight wars. Ish'Faithal looked directly at Arqwan, for he knew that the conclave would listen to his opinion, and said, "Sage Arqwan, do not let your lust for glory overpower your wisdom, for I know you to be among the wisest of your people. Please, hear me out, for I bring the gravest of news. I am of the webweavers, we are known as Timeshifter Spirits in this world, and I have seen what has befallen you and what is to come. I must insist that you do what you can to stay out of this war, I have strong suspicions that we face a foe far more insidious than the Shadow Realms, trying to pit the elements against each other, trying to bring about the end of the world. I beg of you, please do not aid them in this madness, please do not go to war."

Please relax and remain civil while interacting with each other, otherwise I will have to take stronger measures.