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 | GAME NEWS |  |
Greetings, warriors of Ogriy and Khair!
The  Heralds have returned with fresh interviews from the Great Clan Wars!
Head to the Library and read the words of the clans themselves - their tactics, their hopes, and a few rather colourful asides.
Clan Wars Interviews
Do not forget the little companions who share your path: submit your finest pet screenshots on forum. And while you're at it, create a motto worthy of your clan and leave your mark on the chronicles of Faeo!
May your blades stay sharp and your banners fly high!
The fleets returned, but they did not return to the world they had left. For the first few days, both races searched for an explanation. Reports were written, questioned, rewritten, and eventually locked away in the places where inconvenient truths tend to disappear. The officials could agree on very little except that something had happened at World’s End, and that whatever it was had spared them.
No one could account for the missing time.
No one could explain why every ship had returned without a scratch.
And no one was willing to admit just how relieved they were to see the others sailing on the same horizon. The war did not end.
Thank you to all the participants, and we hope you had fun!
CrackerJack has had many real adventures in his life, but never one like this - never one shared with you. Now, at last, he steps into the unknown at your side, ready to see where this journey will lead. With each new chapter, the bond between you grows as the adventure continues to unfold.
In the Valley of Snakes, not everything is as it seems. Whispers slither through the land, old tensions stir, and the presence of snakes is impossible to ignore—an omen, a warning, or something else entirely. This is a year marked by scales and secrets, where even familiar paths may hide new dangers.
What lies ahead is not fully decided. The voices of those who follow the journey may yet influence how the story unfolds, guiding the course of events still to come.
 Walk beside CrackerJack, take part in the adventure, and leave your mark on its course!
Bonus Chapter: A Day as a Jester
There have always been those who preserve the stories of our world. The Jesters, however, have long been the ones to fill Faeo with fresh tales, clever ideas, and unforgettable adventures. And sometimes, the best stories come from different teams coming together.
That's where you come in.
If you believe you have a story worthy of being added to the annals of the Structure Games, step forward!
The Structure Games tell tales of vanished fleets, ancient mysteries, and choices that shape the fate of entire kingdoms. Now it's your chance to help write the next chapter.
Imagine you were a Jester for a day. What story would you tell? What mystery, adventure, or secret would your players uncover? And what challenge would they have to overcome to see your story through?
Let your imagination run free and impress the community!
Chapter 5: The Return
Seeming to be waking from a death-like slumber fuelled by nightmare, the first sounds the crews heard were the creaking of the masts and the snap of the sails as a slight breeze finally caught within them. For a long moment, no one moved.
The decks were as they had been. The sea stretched outward, calm and endless, its surface unbroken. The sky above was pale, indifferent, offering no sign that anything had ever been amiss. Only the silence felt wrong, too complete, too clean, as though something had passed through and taken more than it should have. One by one, the officials stirred.
End the tale and aid future generations!
CrackerJack has had many real adventures in his life, but never one like this - never one shared with you. Now, at last, he steps into the unknown at your side, ready to see where this journey will lead. With each new chapter, the bond between you grows as the adventure continues to unfold.
In the Valley of Snakes, not everything is as it seems. Whispers slither through the land, old tensions stir, and the presence of snakes is impossible to ignore—an omen, a warning, or something else entirely. This is a year marked by scales and secrets, where even familiar paths may hide new dangers.
What lies ahead is not fully decided. The voices of those who follow the journey may yet influence how the story unfolds, guiding the course of events still to come.
Walk beside CrackerJack, take part in the adventure, and leave your mark on its course!
Chapter 4: Blood in the Water
They say the sea remembers everything. Down here, beneath its weight, that feels less like a saying and more like a warning that came too late.
The Truth-Bearer did not know how long she had lain on the cold stone floor. Time had long since lost its shape, and in this place it seemed to dissolve entirely, leaving behind only the slow, deliberate rhythm of something vast breathing far below. It was not the sea she heard, but something beneath it, something patient enough to wait without ever forgetting its purpose.
When she finally stirred, the book remained where it had fallen, its pages shifting between liquid and solid, its letters burning steady and clear. They no longer resisted her. They revealed.
The map had never pointed to a place.
It had marked an opening, a wound in the world, buried beneath the sea and held shut only by the weight of it. The waters had not erased it. They had contained it.
And within that wound, something remained.
The symbol returned to her thoughts. A circle devouring itself, and at its center a pattern she now understood.
The Charging Horse.
Blood for the Blood-... Seagod!
Chapter 3: No grave but the sea
Her name might have been forgotten to Faeo but she has not forgotten what happened to her and her crewmates. Long ago, as its tradition in this world, civilization was facing a similar cataclysm. At that time she still had hope, joined a crew tasked with uncovering the secret, a secret that has since been forgotten alongside her name.
She was the sole survivor of the whole ordeal, her life forever altered. When her crew slipped into bulky metal diving suits and disappeared into the depths, she left at her captain’s side to assist them from the deck. It wasn’t long until all oxygen lines snapped and metal diving suits became tombs, forever sealing warriors trapped within. A bright flash of stars abruptly revealed a constellation that resembled a charging horse. The ship's captain took it as a sign and charged down the sea, cutlass in one hand and harpoon in the other - never to be seen again.
Even she herself does not remember how she managed to survive this encounter and it’s hard to blame her, it happened hundreds of years ago after all.
There is one lasting side effect to that trip. Time has lost all meaning to her, aging was no longer a concern as she not only watched all of the people she ever knew die but even memory of them being gone from the face of Faeo. At first, she tried telling the truth about her age and story but to little effect. Even here, with eternal mighty dragons, undead roaming the lands and ghosts being everywhere apparently eternal life is where citizens draw the line. She refers to herself as Truth-Bearer whenever she is forced into social interaction, in hopes to be avoided by acting uncanny. As soon as the news hit the mainland she was hit with a feeling of dread, too familiar and too strong to just ignore it and so she went to check the footprints around the outposts herself. This confirmed her worst fears, she knew those boots all too well - nobody nowadays recognizes them as technology has advanced significantly but she was there, she saw the tragedy with her own eyes and thus the footprint is burnt inside her mind forever. Those could only be centuries old diving boots. Her old crew is still out there, stuck in the limbo between life and death, roaming the depths of the ocean. It took them almost a thousand years to walk their way to the shore…
I have laid for forty years in the grave I made myself...
Chapter 2: There is no escape from the Sea
In the cellars of the Great Library, there where the light of the oil lamps barely drove the moisture from the walls, they finally found something that could no longer be mere coincidence. A map, older than the oldest chronicles of both peoples, drawn on seal leather, its edges gnawed away by salt. No name stood upon it. Only a symbol: a circle devouring itself, and at its centre a tiny vertical stroke-like a breath that would never be released again. The archivist who discovered it, a gaunt man named Lirren whose eyes had long since taken on the colour of ancient parchment, spoke to no one for days. He compared. He measured. He calculated.
And when at last he opened his mouth, his voice was so low that the other librarians had to lean close to hear him. “It is not an island,” he said. “It is a hole.” Not a hole in the sense of abyss or crater. But a hole in the world itself. A place where the rules of here and now paused for a single moment. The coordinates where the reports broke off did not lie so close together by chance - they formed a perfect circle. And in the centre of that circle, on the ancient map, stood only one word, written in a script that was neither human nor magmarian: Waiting.
Lirren vanished three days later. They found only his cloak, neatly folded on the table, and beside it the map, opened to exactly that spot. The symbol had disappeared. In its place, in fresh ink, stood a single mark: an arrow pointing downward.
The rumours needed no week to reach the coastal cities. Some said Lirren had set out of his own free will. Others claimed he had been taken - by the same invisible fingers that had also seized the fleets. Still others whispered of voices that rose at night from shells and empty message bottles, always the same words, always in the rhythm of the waves: “Come. It is time.” The governments of both realms tried to quell the unrest.
The sea demands knowledge.
Chapter 1: Rime of the Ancient Mariner
They reached the coordinates at dawn. Two horizons. Two fleets. A stretch of water so still it mirrored both armadas without distortion. Signals were raised. Distance held. Whatever words were meant to be spoken at World's End would have to wait until decks aligned and pride settled.
The sea decided otherwise.
The wind thinned. The swell flattened. Ships that had answered every current for weeks began to lose way, as if the water beneath no longer welcomed them. A shadow moved under the Human flagship - broad, unhurried. Then the surface broke. Hull met force. Masts lurched. At the center of the meeting point, the sea drew inward, forming a dark spiral where the charts marked nothing but depth.
There are battles that last until sunset. This was over before the sun had properly risen.
Ships tilted, slid, and were taken into the hollow. The spiral tightened. The water closed. When the light strengthened, the sea lay smooth again, as though no fleet had ever crossed it.
Weeks passed. At first, absence was treated as delay. Then as misfortune. Eventually, it became a question no one could postpone. No wreckage drifted ashore. No survivor brought back a version of events to argue over. Whatever happened at World's End left nothing obvious behind.
She has no crew, she has no life...
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