Plot Master

A strange pop-up appears once the Spectral Knight is slain. What was faced by those that sought them out, these hostiles seemed very malleable and capable of mimicking the arms of their opponents. It is best to assume that the same applies to all of them.

A strange pop-up appears once the Spectral Knight is slain. In times of desperation, the Spectral Knights seemed to turn feral like a wounded animal. In these final moments, they seemed to unravel and forgo their own self preservation. Perhaps it would be wise to cool such anger.

A strange pop-up appears once the Spectral Knight is slain. When the creatures become shapeless, it would appear that somber music will persuade their shape to remain solid.

A strange pop-up appears once the Spectral Knight is slain. Spectral Knights, before they retreated, transformed to take the shape of their enemies. Donning their face, perhaps there are ways to see past such a disguise.

A strange pop-up appears once the Spectral Knight is slain. Rumor has it that beneath the waves, boats that travel upon its shore will see themselves turned by an invisible force. It would appear that some abnormal barrier is causing them to shift away with damage to the vessel's hull.

A strange pop-up appears once the Spectral Knight is slain. At night the sky appeared darker, and these corrupt creatures seemed unaffected by it. Within that mask, they converge upon any living thing regardless of stature.

A strange pop-up appears once the Spectral Knight is slain. The Spectral Knights seemed attuned to the dark, essences of the void seem to have reduced effects.

Seafoam bubbles over stones. Lighting crackles over the North Sea, casting brief flashes of red over the water. The coast here is jagged and uneven. Cold rocks, slick with rain, slope sharply into the dark. The sky hangs heavy with constant storm clouds, and the sea is darker still. The spawning of Spectral Knights has ceased. Along the shore of the Black, a scout makes a strange discovery. Past midnight, he sends word to the frontlines. From: Hackman To: Frontlines Was scanning along the edge of the Black. Real quiet out here.

They swarmed Callisto like angry insects, a dark mockery of the honeybee and grumpy bear trope. Light in a kaleidoscope of colors burst like fireworks as Players fell on the dying Floor Boss, weapons of various shapes and sizes piercing its tough hide. The display was hauntingly beautiful against the blood reds and dark shadows of the creature’s lair. Callisto roared its protest, but in its final moments of life, some of the fight seemed to leak away. Did it simply accept its own demise? Was it so discouraged by its failure that it gave up completely? Or were the memories of another life slowl

They swarmed Callisto like angry insects, a dark mockery of the honeybee and grumpy bear trope. Light in a kaleidoscope of colors burst like fireworks as Players fell on the dying Floor Boss, weapons of various shapes and sizes piercing its tough hide. The display was hauntingly beautiful against the blood reds and dark shadows of the creature’s lair. Callisto roared its protest, but in its final moments of life, some of the fight seemed to leak away. Did it simply accept its own demise? Was it so discouraged by its failure that it gave up completely? Or were the memories of another life slowl

They swarmed Callisto like angry insects, a dark mockery of the honeybee and grumpy bear trope. Light in a kaleidoscope of colors burst like fireworks as Players fell on the dying Floor Boss, weapons of various shapes and sizes piercing its tough hide. The display was hauntingly beautiful against the blood reds and dark shadows of the creature’s lair. Callisto roared its protest, but in its final moments of life, some of the fight seemed to leak away. Did it simply accept its own demise? Was it so discouraged by its failure that it gave up completely? Or were the memories of another life slowl

They swarmed Callisto like angry insects, a dark mockery of the honeybee and grumpy bear trope. Light in a kaleidoscope of colors burst like fireworks as Players fell on the dying Floor Boss, weapons of various shapes and sizes piercing its tough hide. The display was hauntingly beautiful against the blood reds and dark shadows of the creature’s lair. Callisto roared its protest, but in its final moments of life, some of the fight seemed to leak away. Did it simply accept its own demise? Was it so discouraged by its failure that it gave up completely? Or were the memories of another life slowl

From the broken earth at their feet, a low hanging mist began to form, a cacophony of whispers and moans rising to meet them. Lost souls rose from the depths below once more. Tethered to this withering grove by some unknown power. Forced against whatever of their will remained to do the bidding of this corrupted creature. Without direction or much purpose, the spirits circled the grouping of players, creating their own tightrope between the realm of spirits and the physical world. Callisto was able to cross this threshold, becoming partially ethereal in the process. His form would blend with t

The beast staggered forward, its massive form looming like a shadow cast over the dying land. Once a proud guardian of the forest, the bear now stood as a grotesque reflection of its former self, its fur matted and blackened with the corruption that seeped through its flesh. Deep, jagged wounds bled darkness rather than blood, oozing onto the cracked earth as though the forest itself were trying to purge its own sickness. Its breath came in ragged, guttural heaves, hot vapor curling from its maw like smoke from a smoldering pyre. Around it, the forest crumbled. Towering oaks twisted into

As colored yet horrific fragrance wafts through the air, that same fog would move its sights upon an unsuspecting gaggle of digital avatars. It would burn upon the skin like standing too close to an open flame, the smell a mix of rotten vegetation with the slightest dash of metallic undertone. Their very ears would ring to signify how unwelcome this dust was, and their eyes would begin to blur. A roar from within that coverage, as if it was under his command. Callisto was not done, and its ally had found itself into the ballroom blitz. That violet hued wave of pungent welcoming rolls across th