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Duelyst Lore Corner. Kick Back, Relax, and Get Ready To READ!


@zanestheargent @alexx55 so basically I made this waay too easy :joy:

Yes that’s right, this months theme is food! Specifically Duelyst inspired/based food
(so at the very least it has to
a. Make sense according to the cultural background [in duelyst] and
b. Be tied to something Duelyst related)

Anyways, expect an official thread soon!


Entry 10: Artifact Defiler - ‘Till the Clock Stops Ticking


In Xenkai the houses hold three things in common.

First is the carpet. Thick linens dyed in deep hues of red and amber sigils line the floors they stand on, long enduring the fancies of families far forgotten. Faint blotches of ink bearing the only testament to their age, adding to the weight of their presence in the common Songhai household.

Second are the tables. Long and squat, the tables cater to peoples deep invested in things of recreation. Be it steaming plates of silver or swift little blocks, each day brings different joys to be embellished in the folds. No piece is made uniquely until the way the time unfolds.

And third, but not least, come the shrines of each household. Each made different, each the same. Each month brings a flower, each month brings decay. To the sticks that burn so brightly, the sticks that few can sway, come a time of monthly cleansing, of ash that burned away.

To be a part of those called Songhai, to be a people of red dismay, you must answer the call to burden; the call that none can stay. For to keep the present and future, you must honor the ones past that came. The past enshrouded in haze.

For to keep a house of Songhai, you must face the ancient array. Against the sodden pact of nature, against the evils of legends unmade, against the fears of darkness.

Against the defiler of objects you have made.


This almost reads like a poem.


bump, please don’t let this thread die mmf


Forgotten Places Entry 3: - The Vault of Generations


Ice encrusted fingers clutching his cloak, a hooded figure stepped forward against icy winds. For days had he traversed the Whyte Mountains, hopeful at first, but desperate at last. Frost had long sealed his eyes open, not that it mattered much, blistering winds shattered his sight regardless.

Round the corners, past the twists and bends of ice slathered rock the figure went. His form tiny against the looming cliffs and peaks. Deeper into the valleys he went, deeper still did his destination lie he knew.

And so the figured moved, so deep that all things were still. He had arrived at a place devoid of flurry, coated by a soft field of snow. And past that calming field of snow lie the eyes of judgment, silent yet beckoning into the vault he go.

And so the figure strode forward, soft snow sinking his body amongst other bones.

Into the silent blue light did Sargos go towards.


Entry 11: Braszo de Mechaz0r!


Long ago, back before even Atar’s sandshields became commonplace, the first Mechaz0r! landed in the desplate plains of the Abyssian. They say it’s impact was so feirce and so jarring that even now the spot remains cracked and destitute, empty of the creep that so proliferates the region. And so the Mechaz0r! began it’s march, spreading a path of wanton death and destruction until it finally reached one of the great snek gods.

They then proceeded to duke it out, blood and oil spewing across the ground until finally the great snek lord managed to wrench one of the twin sword arms from the mech, causing it to flee the continent and replace the arm with the cannon you see today.

In celebration of the victory (and subsequent consumption of said arm), the abyssian devised a sweet cake roll designed in the likeness of the mech arm, to consume every cycle.

And thus was the origin of the great cake wars.


@mmf im just gonna link this here maybe this could help in what you do here.


Thank you so much for the link! I can’t tell you how hard it is for me to find good quality map pictures on my phone so having your upload has lessened my burden tremendously!

Entry 12: Time Maelstrom - Stuck In A Loop


“…reports are coming in from around the country, yes it seems that efforts to redirect the storms away from Tyvia have been successful. For those of you around the river Ma’or please stay calm and await the arrival of rescue teams. I repeat, stay calm and-“

Akos powered down the comm crystal and fell back on his makeshift bed. They’ve been broadcasting that for weeks now and Akos has yet to see a single shield in sight. Thank Eyos his sandshield wasn’t damaged by the Maelstrom, but the lifeboat he occupied did little to block from the heat and his mind was roasting by now.

With little better to do, he got up and proceeded with his little routine; check the boat for any signs of leaking, recalibrate the distress beacon, and scan the shores for any sign of civilization. Once again he saw nothing of note and once more he fell back down, to face the sun on his bed.

He paid attention in cartography and if his calculations were correct he should’ve been drifting close enough to Ostracon to at least spot it’s massive obelisk skyline. As it was he hadn’t caught sight of the massive obsidian peaks and he knew better than to risk the dangerous deserts to try his luck on land. No. He was stuck floating in a boat down the river Ma’or until the so called help arrived.

With a sigh of dejection he turned once more to power up the comm crystal. Hopefully it won’t be more news that…”


Entry 13: Elyx Stormblade - Morning Routine


Iris scrutinized herself in the mirror. Tall, lithe, shocking red hair still damp from morning rounds; she hardly looked fit for the armor set upon the stand.

She turned away to look at the armor in question and took a moment to appreciate it’s beauty. Polished to a shine, the set of armor gleamed in the sunlight. Intricate patterns engraved upon it’s plates, runes of strength elders called them, but she knew better. Light blue chainmail was laid out next to the heavy metal, the links cleaned of their dark hues.

Buckle by buckle, knot by knot she adorned the plates and as she was fixing the final buckle she spotted a burst of energy to her right. A cloth covered sword was propped against the corner. From time to time, bolts of azure blue lightning would escape it’s cloth insulation, reminding her of her own tumultuous past.

She tore her eyes away from the painful memoir and instead chose to focus on the shield next to it. It lacked the intricacies of the other pieces of armor, but what it lacked it made up for in solidity. It reminded her of his face and she decided.

She reached for both.


Entry 14: Dreams are not chosen


Back in the olden days, when the twin empire was nought, but a thought, there was a great influx of people from the school of dreams. They saw in Xenkai a home rife with mystique and a myriad of perspective. Carrying little more than their clothes and a few blankets, they crossed the sea of Fog (nasty little critters) and brought with them their beliefs.

In one of their older temples stood a cloaked figure. He stood there in the vesicle, leaning on his twin headed staff and clearly exhausted from his journey, but careful to not let any water get onto the immaculate temple floors. Eventually the water lessened and he slowly moved to hang his cloak on an unlit sconce.

Freed of the heavy cloth, he shifted his scales and unraveled his tail from his carapace and walked forward. Before, his scales shined a bright green, now, pale as they were, they barely elicited a glancing reflection from the torches lighting the way.

Reaching the main temple shrine he knelt in supplication, holding his staff up in offering.

“The deed is done, the pup is now a tiger as was promised.”

His breaths came in gasps, arms shivering slightly as the staff began to shine.

“Now please, Somme Nye, I tire of this cycle. Give me right of leave of this place.”

The staff shone so greatly now. Shone as bright as the sun. As it’s glow enveloped the figure, a bellow rang out and as quick as it came the light was extinguished. In it’s place sat a great green chrysalis, crowned by a trio of horns.

And to it’s right stood a figure, clutching the twin blade staff.

“Rest well starhorn,” he said whilst softly patting the egg, “your dreams ensure reality.”

Edit; Closing PSA:

The Lore Corner will be closing soon as the forums aren’t allowing more than 3 consecutive replies per post. It’s been a wonderful ride sharing these pieces here and I can only hope they served to enrich your Duelyst experience.

Stay Creative everyone!

Duelyst Lore Contest November 2018 - January 2019

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