Yes: Theldesia has a variety of potential premises, especially from the eyes of Landers; this story is meant to showcase them.
Last edited: June 16, 2016
Prologue: The Parallel Architects of Babel
January 2018: One Last Project
Even now, I wonder why language barriers exist.
Why did the united humanity in the Biblical story of Babel need to be scattered from the top of the tower? At the time of Elder Tales' open beta, when our initial server started hosting countless players from across the globe, I did not have an answer.
It took me the next ten years of breathing life into Theldesia's natives to arrive at one: it was a test.
Some writers are adamant that character, fictional and real alike, must be built by adversity. The authority in that yarn may have had this logic in mind when they meddled.
And if Theldesia was what they foresaw, perhaps the moment Cendrillon's Legacy went live - when Atharva's groundbreaking translation software debuted - was the moment they decided to repent.
The software's fourth anniversary is coming up, and some facts are still sinking in for me.
Its performance has remained relatively stable, with over 99% of all known post-release bugs stamped out swiftly and efficiently.
The game's playerbase at that point became global in the truest sense of the word.
Perhaps the most incredulous of all: I helped contribute to one of my lifelong dreams.
But because fixing the actual software was of higher priority than fixing the game's lore, I underestimated the amount of time needed to weave its existence into Theldesia's narrative. Few people would accept a universal language out of the blue even if it had worldwide recognition, and even fewer could make that happen without sufficient persuasion. Or brainwashing.
Many of my co-workers and superiors have told me time and again to not bother with an in-game justification; clearly they don't know me that well. Then again, I don't know myself that well either. In fact, that's the exact reason for this update: I'll soon be stepping down as script writer to focus on helping with the translation software full-time.
I have one last surprise to implement before that happens, though.
Around the time the game client was updated for Cendrillon's Legacy, rumors of an "Anthologist" subclass began spreading, all thanks to dataminers (those lousy killjoys). I am pleased to announce that after much extensive reworking, it will finally be available for beta-testing with the release of the Homesteading the Noosphere expansion.
Below this point is my twelfth and final pre-release background info: the in-game origin of the subclass.
Six members of the Kunie, the Theldesia-wide organization tasked with managing the technology left behind by the ancient Alvs, have dissociated themselves from the group and created an item that can retain an immutable history, one that will not suffer the same fate as the Age of Myth. Calling that item the Anthology, they have used its internal system to simultaneously wield with some finesse a variety of skills possessed by multiple People of the Land. Convinced that the People of the Land's overreliance on the Adventurers have devalued their own lives, the six disillusioned Kunie have declared themselves the Wardens of Wingless Souls, firmly believing that an Anthology's collective strength can give Theldesia the chance to clean up their own messes once and for all.
Three-way friction now exists between the Wardens, the Kunie, and even the Thirteen Chivalric Orders. The Kunie want to dismantle the Wardens' system under the logic that they used stolen Alv tech as a foundation and that it will only create a new cycle of tragedy, and the Orders want to integrate that system with their own abilities so that they can strengthen their defenses against the demihuman menace.
In an almost hypocritical move to broaden their knowledge without antagonizing either faction, one of the Wardens has turned to the Adventurers, preparing to send the below message within the Yamato server's city of Shibuya:
Anthologist, you whose weight is borne by the wingless souls!
Theldesia is filled with the lives of many,
and the winds bless their pages in the Anthology you now possess.
Guard it with your life.
If you receive the message in-game from her, you will be offered a first look at the subclass's mechanics, but be warned: the common sense you have learned on Theldesia's surface might not help.
This GM-organized event will officially start on May 3, 2018 at 0:00 JST (8:00 PDT in Atharva's headquarters).
I hope you will enjoy my final contribution to Elder Tales.
-Zivvy, Assistant Script Writer and Programmer, Atharva Inc.
The Wardens of Wingless Souls
Aussa would rather not entrust any Adventurer with an Anthology.
Give one of those brain-dead husks enough time, and they would surely find its limits, just like any other skill they get their hands on. However, the main purpose of the item was to strengthen the People of the Land if the Adventurers ever failed, or even turned their blades; needing to rely on those very beings for this would make the Wardens absolutely pathetic in the eyes of the fogeys (Kunie) and the relics (Orders) if they caught wind of it.
But the data gathered through their isolated experimentation was too lopsided by their already strong bonds; the Anthology's current viability made them doubt whether any other Person of the Land could use it even one-quarter as efficiently as them. An Anthologist was nothing without their network: family, friends, lovers, rivals, even acquaintances and complete strangers; if the Wardens wanted a base case - someone with zero connections whatsoever - Theldesia's aliens could not be more apt.
She did not expect meeting one so soon.
After dawn gave way to morning, she had used the Tracker's Sneak and Silent Move to enter the city of Shibuya undetected by anyone, much less the Royal Guards assigned to there, and step into the nature-claimed ruins of the former Shibuya Excel Hotel Tokyu. She had then swiftly ascended a crumbling stairwell to reach her designated hiding spot: a small room on the twentieth floor with a clear view of the eternally lively Shibuya Crossing. The moss on the floor near the doorway had been undisturbed, so she had not considered the possibility of the room being occupied until she had already walked in.
Standing as rigidly as a statue between rotted beds at the room's left wall, oblivious to the damp air and dust, was a man almost a full head taller than her, his outfit masking his features from head to toe. He gave the impression of a thief from the sands: a desert hat kept his hair hidden; a pair of aviator goggles and a face mask covered his face; and a red poncho draped over his torso and upper legs, with tan slacks and light-brown moccasins peeking out from below.
As a former Kunie, she knew how to access a status screen that identified anyone within her line of sight. She invoked the technique while maintaining her concealment, and a window appeared over him.
Zivvy
Race / Human
Summoner Lv. 90
A Summoner as an Anthologist would have been a high-risk combination if the Wardens' system registered anything other than People of the Land; interaction with beings from other worlds who can display various degrees of sentience and even sapience was a great strain on the Summoner, and an Anthology handling even a fraction of that multidimensional load would certainly break. Besides, accommodating any more aliens will always be a pain in her neck.
Then again, the scientist in her couldn't deny the possible angles only a Summoner could explore, and she was in no position to turn down free data.
In any event, the time to drop her invisibility was still a few minutes away. If the Adventurer before her was in this exact spot for her sake, she'd almost feel flattered.
...Who was she kidding? As if they really had the ability to empathize-
Her vision suddenly flared white; mana was surging from the direction of Shibuya's Transport Gate. Hot damn, that stings! While pushing up her rectangular glasses to massage her eyes, she felt the air around her growing heavier, only slightly so.
She only got in two rubs before sensing movement at her side.
"'Aussa'...?"
The Adventurer could talk.
He could see past her invisibility.
And he knew her name.
At the onset of the Catastrophe, two souls' worldviews began their slow crumble.