The Arcanist's first obligation is to humanity. We seek knowledge, so that it may cast light into shadowed corners, and bring order to chaos. Thus, I have compiled my work and that of esteemed colleagues into this manuscript, hoping that it proves useful to all in solving the brilliant, vexing puzzle of our world. May your path always lead you to a greater understanding.

— From The Elysian Manuscript Foreword by Raban Maur

Unlike chimera, which are fauna transformed by Shaper energies, elementals are sentient beings brought into existence by the clash between Shaper instruments and the violent energies of the Anthem of Creation found at the center of a Cataclysm. While the fire-spewing wyvern is commonly referenced as the example of an elemental, the most notorious and universally feared is the monstrous titan. Pioneering researcher Gelhold Fraf theorized that if we could unlock the secrets of an elemental's formation, we would gain profound understanding of the Shapers' design for this world.

The source of pure creation the Shapers used to create the world. The Anthem has existed since the beginning of time and permeates all aspects of existence. The Anthem has been the subject of much debate over its origin, limits, and if humans should attempt to channel it. Some believe it is nothing more than story and myth.

The word "Anzu" is a group term for any creature formed at the dawn of creation, not of the natural world. When the Shapers departed, the Anzu were left to fend for themselves. Some survived, some did not.
Though most references to Anzu live in folk tales and children's stories, our world does have a considerable number of pre-urgoth structures. The Sunken Garden submerged in the center of Shadowmark, The Vault of Monument Watch, and The Golden Monolith of the Mirelands possess similar architecture not associated with Shapers, humans, or urgoth, and perpetuate the myth of ancient beings from long ago.

Instruments left behind by the Shapers when they abandoned the world they'd created. Varying in shape, size, and purpose, relics are powered by the Anthem of Creation, and are commonly believed to be the very tools that constructed the world.
If an activated relic becomes overwhelmed by the Anthem, it creates a Cataclysm, often causing fragments to break off the relic. Lancers have discovered through trial and error that returning these fragments to their rightful place can, in some cases, silence a relic.

While Cataclysms have been a constant in our world, we have chosen not to experiment with the Anthem of Creation. Scars have no such reservations. They seek out Shaper relics for their own purposes. The Scar Luminary who led the attack on the terraces used a relic to charge its weapons with extra firepower. In a separate attack, Junkhead sought to use a relic to make itself physically stronger. While a tempting experiment, Antium has declared that relics are simply too unstable to be safely manipulated by humans. As always, every effort should be made to keep Scars from accessing relics.

— From Cataclysms and their Effects, 41st Edition

Humanity's name for the supreme beings that created the world itself. It is a long-held belief that the Shapers used the Anthem of Creation to build all aspects of our existence, but had to depart suddenly, leaving their tools behind and our world unfinished.
Although they are called "The Shapers," their exact number is not known, and all details or motives are purely speculation.

The Shapers started something here, but who will finish it? You really think we'll ever understand what the Shapers were planning? That we'll all come together and unravel the mysteries of the world, then lock arms to step into the future? We can't even agree on how to stay alive in this infernal place.

— Anonymous

He saw the great, dormant instrument reaching to the sky. Though it was still, it seemed filled with longing. Did the Shapers miss their instruments? Why did they leave them? There were too many, they were too large, scattered across the world, to have thoughtlessly forgotten them. Perhaps they simply had no room, and mournfully cast them aside. Perhaps they were bored with their forging of the world and turned elsewhere. Or perhaps, as was his own experience, they left in haste. He'd left countless hammers in the wild due to wolven.

— From A Strider in the Everweald

Massive, ancient Shaper constructs scattered throughout our world. Ruins are classified differently than relics. Not only are ruins often an enormous size, but some do not appear to be capable of accessing the Anthem of Creation. Possibly, those ruins were used strictly for structural purposes. Determining a ruin's original or intended purpose is a matter of educated guesswork rather than proof.

This is the story of how the Legion endured its own destruction.
While Arden Vassa and Stral argued about the remaining Legion's path, Liatrelle prepared. She prepared her oldest friend and other fallen for burial. And she prepared the way for those still to come. She took Garred's Volumes of the Legion from the Fortress of Dawn before it was sealed. She left Helena's signet in the General's tomb so it could someday be claimed again.
Liatrelle would not abandon her friend, or her path, even though the battles were over. The world would always need Tarsis. And Tarsis would always need Legionnaires. She followed Vassa to Antium for a time, and left the Legion's records with trusted lancers to be maintained and passed down by generations.
Once her preparations were complete, her plans in motion, Liatrelle walked out of Antium and vanished.

— As told by the Bard

When the people of Mirrus begin to see their breath, they know that the chill is coming. This seasonal arrival of cold weather means that Icetide has finally returned and, as the oppressive heat lifts, so do people's spirits.

Whether by accident or intelligent design, frosty Shaper ice globes suddenly appear throughout Bastion, chilling the air from sea to mountains. The drop in the temperature dresses the world in sparkly white and brings many welcome changes--most notably, the emergence of the rare Ice Flower plant. The sap of the Ice Flower is very valuable and its harvest becomes a frenzy.

Along-side the serious and dangerous work of harvest, there is fun to be had. The accompanying festival is cheerful and sometimes wild. Pilots take breaks to zip through the frosty air on challenging race courses. People give gifts and attend ice-bath parties. Snowball fights are common but always in good fun.

Although never predictable in its timing, Icetide is welcome whenever it arrives.

Might Valor Resolve

This chain was started in the hope of bringing prosperity to you. The original copy is from the Mirelands. It has been sent around the world nine times.

Within three days, make five copies of this letter and send it to five of your friends to whom you wish prosperity to come.

Make sure to send this only to people who will not break the chain. Do not keep this letter; it must leave your hands in 72 hours. This is not a joke.

A Sentinel Commander in Antium was promoted to Argentum after passing this letter along. A Freelancer in Fortuo won a new javelin in a card game and then was killed by a chimera because he broke the chain. Send five copies and see what happens on the 4th day.

DO NOT IGNORE IT. IT WORKS!

A group of citizens have proposed that the governor ban Shaper relics from Fort Tarsis.

"These relics can go off at anytime, and bringing one—even if it's dormant—into the fort is a huge danger to all of us," said group leader Diena Saihl, "Look at what happened to Matthias Sumner. He poked a relic and suddenly there are three of him. He had no idea that would happen. Do we want to end up like Dunar? Or Freemark?"

Arcanist Mentor Orun, visiting from Antium, responded to the proposed ban. "What would they have Arcanists do? Study relics outside the wall? That's ridiculous. The only reason humans survive here is because we seek to understand our world. Besides, the likelihood that our entire world is a bundle of Shaper ruins and relics is high. Banning them from settlements will not make anyone safer "

Council will bring the matter to vote later this year.

I found him in a well-appointed facility near a farming community on the outskirts of Heliost. He'd left academia and its narrow world behind. His rough study was more clutter and collections than sterile lab. To him, it was clear that ideas and action outstripped endless hesitation. Govran himself was a small man with wide and delighted eyes. He took my hand in a firm handshake and spent the day with endless questions about my own work. So taxing was the talk, I felt less examined in my final defense at the academy. Despite the rigor, I quickly felt a kinship with this warm and inviting scholar. I began my real education of our unsettling world. How very thin are the walls that separate us from chaos.

Years have passed since that black night. I returned to the Academy a reduced man, and I pursued a staid and steady life as an instructor. Any thoughts of uncovering what lay beyond vanished in a red wound of light. My illness felt a fair recompense for my arrogance
I spoke only once of my experience with Saln Govran and our damned machine— to the elders of the great Arcanist Academy. The facts were plain, and those assembled wisely agreed that pursuit of such technology was too dangerous and would be discouraged at every turn
In the end, my truth did change the world, but not for the better.

Bex!

I have a javelin! It's a rusty old Ranger, but there is a guy here named Prospero who will help me find spare parts. I just need to do odd jobs for him. Life is so exciting right now.

You must feel relieved to know that Outlaw scum was caught. The world is safer now. Does it make you smile?

I love you.
Teenen.

“And the Arcanists built themselves a great tower on the edge of the world, to record the cycles of the moon and stars, while lancers stood sentinel at their side, that all of humanity would benefit from their learning.”

— From The Volume of Tarsis by "Garred"

Long ago, the graceful and majestic beast named the Eddian roamed our world. Possessing deadly horns and hooves, none dare challenge the Eddian, none save the greedy Ezurite Anzu, who found it most delicious. It hunted the Eddian until only one remained. Freelancers decided to protect the Eddian and battled the Anzu at the watering hole. The Anzu was driven off, but the Eddian was mortally wounded. As it died, plants welcomed it back to the earth, and a great tree sprung from where it lay. Freelancers still consider the Great Eddian to be in their protection, keeping their vow from long ago.

— Folk Tale

The Key is one of the most common Shaper ruins, found all over the known world. What makes this one different? It's believed to be an Anzu place of worship. This figure has been found painted into various caves, with light coming from its center. So is it a ruin or a relic? Ancient Anzu Arcanists think it's the latter.

— From Ancient Anzu radio show

Today we witnessed the most beautiful thing. We were investigating the Shaper ruins in the area, when a great wind knocked us to the ground. Of course, we feared that a relic had been set off, but the next thing we saw was a giant butterfly, rising up from the path to one of the cliffs, and then up over the next one. Thank goodness the lancer with us managed to capture it on his link. It was the most amazing thing I have ever seen. Sometimes the world is astounding, isn’t it?

— Diary, Arcanist archives

A few hours have passed, though I cannot be sure how many, without the sun and moon as my measure. The deadly night vine that was swallowed with us (and nearly killed Maris) is proving to be a surprising comfort... my only light.

The water keeps rising and I have scrambled up to the highest point, closer to the Shaper Ruin, yet I worry that Maris will not be able to find me. I hope she is safe. There have not been any tremors, but what if she was crushed by falling rock? Velathra is not far, but there are so many dangers in this unfinished world... wolven or ursix... Maris is too young to meet her fate. Indeed... though she is a student, I realize I have come to regard her as my own child. The mentors always warn of such affection, that attachment to students will only lead to heartbreak. But what is life without caring? I do not regret my attachment, mentors be damned.

Last chapter of my book:
"Cutter Drayden was exhausted. At best, he only had a day before he died of a nasty rash. His old life selling trinkets in Fort Tarsis didn't seem so bad now. His book hadn't really worked out, and it was best just to bury it where no one would find it. If he hurried, he could be home before the loud scary things ate him."
That won't work; this is better:
"Cutter Drayden had stared into the maw—the worst the world could throw at him—and the world had blinked. He had nothing left to prove. His courage was stronger than steel. Having conquered the wilds of Bastion, he could now retire in Antium and live the life of the idle rich. Legions of fawning admirers would ensure the legend of Cutter Drayden eclipsed even that of General Tarsis."
Well, back to selling trinkets.

Without urgoth to test and observe, it's unclear why their race couldn't use ember to access the gateway. Humans can cross the gateway to tap the Anthem of Creation's power, but there is only speculation about why the urgoth could not. We know they mastered surviving this world in a way we never could, using their physical might and seeming imperviousness to natural dangers. They were mighty, unbending, and unyielding, which some have used to both describe their strength and their inability to use ember. With no urgoth to study, it is likely these questions will remain unanswered.

— Arcanist diary

So wild, but when we were silencing the relic, I could've sworn I saw something in the energy flashes coming at me.

I've heard the stories. I know what happens when a Cataclysm is about to start. I'd never seen it before. It felt like... someone had ripped open reality. Didn't like it one bit.

And yet, I had to look through the rip. Curiosity. They say the Anthem creates all the time. I wanted to see what it was trying to push into our world this time.

It looked like fire. Fire and wings. I think it had wings. And then Oskar found the last echo and it was gone.

"A Freelancer? You sure?”
“Absolutely. They get out there. They see the world.”
“I get it, I get it. Never imagined these walls would keep you inside forever, anyway.”
“Correct. What about you?”
“Well, I put my name in.”
“Engineering, right? Serious.”
“Maybe, yeah. Don't know. I want to see the world, but...”
“Tell you what—I get my javelin, and I'll take you out there myself.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“Yeah, but the best kind of danger!"

I once met a man who said the world is tuned for life and death, like it's a machine. I don't see it that way. Machines aren't alive. The world is. The Anthem is the clay it's molded from. Arcanists tell us Shapers bend the Anthem to their bidding. So the idea that a mountain exists only because a Shaper wanted it that way, or wars happen because Shapers invented war... it makes me wonder. Starting to think the answer to all that isn't in some ruin.

I'm getting nowhere out here. The meaning of the world seems to be: it wants to drive us insane. It poses a mystery that begs an answer and then deliberately hides that answer. Or maybe there is no answer. I've searched this damned jungle for months and the only thing the world has shown me is new ways to die. I've lost weight, I've been stung in places you never want to be stung, and I can't identify most of the things I'm eating. (Is it even food?) Probably not, because now I have a fever most days. I can barely think straight. Probably because I have a fever. So I can't think straight some days. Probably because of this fever. It's all a big circle, like a maze. The Shapers lure us into the maze and then laugh when we get lost.

I asked the Arcanists what the meaning of the world was, and they couldn't tell me. They had a lot of theories. A lot of ideas. A lot of hot air. The truth is: nobody really knows. Shouldn't that worry people? Whenever I bring it up, they just shrug. How can they not care? How can so many people be asleep? Doesn't it bother them that our whole world is unexplained after thousands of years of living in it?

It hit me. There's only one way to look at this world. If you're going to live trapped in a maze you didn't build, then it's not your fault if you get lost! Nothing you do is your fault! If the Shapers created creatures with instincts and urges—to eat, to conquer, to kill—then it's baked into our nature. It's not our fault if wars happen. The Shapers made us that way! It's not our fault if we're greedy. We were made that way!
What does this all mean? It means I'm done walking around this damned jungle. I'm going to Antium and I'm going to do whatever I please. The Shapers want me to be rich. Pretty sure a lot of other people will see it this way too, and if I charge them money to show them the path, I've got the Shapers' blessing.

"Standing on the launch deck with your javelin all primed and ready to go, looking out over that endless jungle is the best feeling in the world. Wait, second-best: The best is seeing the towers of Fort Tarsis in the distance when you need to get home. Well, that and pie."

—Freelancer Rythe

"We don't know what caused it. Seems things in this world just happen, y'know? But I was the one who spotted them first: Titans on the march and coming right for us. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest, I don't mind saying. Rang the alarm and got everybody going. Fort Tarsis was in for a fight."

—From "Fire Walkers: March of the Titans" by Commander Rann

"Hail! Ye from the fort named for the savior of mankind? It was foretold that a man from that edge of the civilized world would be mine end. Tell me stranger! Did you take the High Road whence you left your home's gates? Did you leave behind the towering white walls and the Sentinels' watchful gaze?"

—From "Sythiss, the Outlaw King", a play by Micon Davall

A found place under bright leaves and brighter skies. Trust this place of warmth. Let burdens fall away. Let the wall of rock close about you and protect your sleep. A company of birds is your warning against all threats seen far-distance from this haven. For a time, take your leave against the brutish world.

—From "The Volume of Tarsis"

Find here a cave, traveler. When the hot dagger of day, snake-slow steals cool comfort of forest night, your shadow-friends shall retreat into the hollows of the world to bide. Find then, the sky reversed, and the cold blackness of the stars laid out under your feet.

—From "Careless Journey Into Sunset", a play by Tillaca Ben

Nothing ever stays buried in this world. Nothing is sealed forever. Black secrets that should remain under the earth come whistling back to plague us. This place ain't done spewing forth darkness. This is cursed dirt, you mark my words.

—Lasseter San, trader

"Luck is a fickle thing," Tessi said. "Sometimes you step into a Shaper ruin and become surrounded by a pile of the best pastries in the world! Covered in chocolate and sweet delights! Or other times you will be turned into a pastry yourself."

—From the children's book "Tessi the Tesilar"

"Spotting the herd from my vantage point high atop the bluff, I marveled at the brutal design this world insists upon for its creatures. Large plates of bone covering a thick, rough hide, thick legs meant for bursts of charging speed, and stomachs capable of ingesting a wide range of toxic plants. If left alone, they graze in relative silence with occasional grunts or bellows to ensure their small herds remain close. When disturbed, they shift to engines of destruction."

—From "Signs of Life" by Garrington Wells

"I refuse to believe those vile things were conceived and shaped here. My brain conjures images of some blasted nightmare where blackened plains are home to endless hordes. A chitinous sea spreads in a poisonous wave across a dead world. The sky is dark and cracks with endless lightning and rainless storms. They call this damned place home, and pity the lost traveler that stumbles upon it."

—From "I Beckoned the Stranger" by Mentor Kurcer Attjax

"The stone monster slumbered. I've seen the jungle move with uncanny speed to overgrow and reclaim anything abandoned, soon overwhelming even the grandest structures—yet the broad back of this silent giant remained curiously bare of green. Perhaps there is a voiceless understanding that the jungle cannot master something beyond the natural world."

—From "An Explorer's Account: The Collected Journals of Utassi Hans" by M. Chronicler

"...the small group of creatures were foraging not a hundred steps from camp. They walked upright, with a steady, unhurried gate. Well-proportioned for hunting and capable of terrible bursts of speed, they were impressive and fascinating predators. Unnoticed, we crouched low to the jungle floor and watched their every move. Though our guardians urged us to depart, we were too rapt with discovery. These beasts were something new, perhaps thrown from their own world by unimaginable Shaper forces or newly migrated to Bastian and as yet undiscovered."

—From "An Explorer's Account: The Collected Journals of Utassi Hans" by M. Chronicler

• The word Bastion is wrongly spelled as Bastian in this entry.
  

  

The day came when Helena asked Vassa to create a new haven for the people. Vassa imagined and worked before he presented a fortress made of light and crowned in gold, trimmed in the splendor of the world. Upon the brow of this haven—in secret writing that honored all that had come to pass—was a declaration. “All are safe within these walls.”

Vassa worked his mind for five days and five nights and lay before them a jewel in the crown of humanity. A fortress made of light and crowned in gold, the splendor of the world at its feet. Tarsis walked upon the polished bridge and was awestruck and did kiss Vassa's cheek in thanks.

— From The Volume of Tarsis by "Garred"

Our absent guides have indeed lent their crooked hand to shaping the sinews of our world. There is no better example than what lies ahead in that foundry of mystery. I record my final moments of assured peace before venturing into that iron void.

—From "An Expedition of the Blue and Baleful" by Arcanist Jasper Wyre