November Teaser

[Sun_al-Mage]

Sind auch wieder Screenshots zu sehen.

http://microsoftgamesinsider.com/AC1/nov_teaser.htm

Visions in the Darkness

The Olthoi Queen was gone. The Isparians had stood as one against an ancient creature which seemed unstoppable, and they had emerged as victors, again. The full depth of her hives and tunnel systems was still unclear—certainly they hadn't all been found—but she was gone. The festival season could commence in earnest.

But all was not well on Dereth. A queen lay in a death-like slumber, struck down by a treacherous hand. The olthoi, without the guidance of their ancient leader, formed into individual hives led by young and old queens. The would-be hero of the Isparians, Nuhmudira, was missing. Those who last saw her report that she appeared bewildered and stricken with some sort of malady. Sharing her mind with the olthoi queen's was debilitating, and perhaps too much for her aging body to survive. Then there was the singing and the laughter that floated on the wind and rubbed the bones of every living creature.

That was the past. Now winter fast approaches. The festival season begins, but a melancholy permeates the crisp air. Something is happening in the dark corners of Dereth, and its subtle evidence can be found all across the land. Reports of disappearances, shady travelers and a war brewing in the Valley of Death are spreading. Adventurers search through ruins uncovered by dust storms, and new tunnels shaped of earth.

Not all the news is disheartening. From Fort Tethana, word comes of a weakening in the ranks of the Renegades. Crafters have focused their attentions on unlocking the great mysteries of those objects coveted by the loyalists who have taken residence in the ruins of Yanshi. Mask makers promise to offer a host of new ideas during this festival season. Friends and allies have become a little easier to spot in a crowd; so too have enemies who stalk each other across the world.

In a room, light returns, servants stand once again, and an old man rejoices. Beings of a dark duality are separated; one descends deeper into the inky recesses of all there is, the reflection is left behind. A lonely man slips through the shadows, feeding from the fear and death that seeps across the land. A woman sits alone in darkness, shivering, afraid to sleep because of the visions that swell within her dreams—horror made personal. Voices, echoing in ancient halls, speak of righting what has been made wrong. Two figures sit at a fire and listen to the ramblings of a sleeping and feverish third. Darkness peels away from a woman's mind; as she stirs from a terrible dream, she is reborn.

Chaos breeds chaos. But even chaos ends.