Lord of Sanguine Tides Hearken my call:

Consume this nectar of tears and blood, And summon forth the crimson flood.

Allow me to traverse the scarlet veil, Let me pursue your bloodstained trail.
"Deeply unsettling!" Amaro lifted his gaze from the creased letter. Weeks had passed since Eadric's stormy departure, his final words still echoing: "I will leave at once!" A heavy burden hung over Amaro. It was he who had told him about Torkada's request. How could he not? Eadric the Exalted was the embodiment of what Torkada was looking for, a fierce and formidable fighter. Amaro's worried gaze drifted back to the blood-smeared parchment.

The ruby liquid sloshed over my boots, oozing through every pore. I waded into the basin and plunged into a vermillion abyss. And yet, I wasn't drowning, Amaro! I was being reborn. Through a dripping portal, I stepped into the Blood Vestibule. And there was Bloodshade. Again. A creature as unfathomable as what lies ahead of me. A servant? A guide? A schemer? It does not matter.

Here I stand, unyielding, unbroken.

There are others with me. United in silent resolve to purge the festering scourge that torments this once hallowed place. We navigate through the four spheres of rotten blood where the twinned harbingers of decay and the dual devourers of light have built their nests.

Like filthy talons, jaded roots cling to the ground and walls. Just like that, the gruesome beasts we slay claw at our life, unleashing dangerous ripples upon their death.

The cursed soil is seething with putrefaction here. Unbreakable root limbs spit their venom, fuelled by every grotesque anomaly killed nearby.









Gloomy basalt pillars tower over us as dark energy seeps into us, eventually discharging as a devastating chain lightning. How are we supposed to stick together like this?

Deep pits mar the basalt floor and bloodshed has turned them into scarlet lakes. Dark light repeatedly manifests under us and behind us, draining us to the core.








By drawing on our strength and experience, we somehow endure the horrors of these blighted halls, if only barely. Every once in a while we stumble upon the battered bodies of fallen greenhorns. Slaughtered by abominable monsters. Juvenility enrages them; the younger their victims, the more they are spurred on in their cruelty.

What drove those fledglings here? The allure of riches? Whispers echo through the corridors, of weapons augmented with sanguine power, some even infused with ichor, the golden nectar of immortals.

And so we cleave our way through the carnage, absorbing the rot to face the desecrator's offspring. We will bear their taints, we will persist despite Bakragore's shadow, we will defy him time and again, feeding him the essence of his kin, withstanding his wrath to cleanse this realm of his foul presence.

Cowardice finds no refuge in our hearts. Our missteps will not inscribe defeat.

We are warriors amidst the tempest. We are crimson crusaders.

Our triumph is etched into the scrolls of must-be.


Upcoming next: The taints within you, the burden you bear.



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yana stumbled through the endless sands, her feet sinking deep with every step. The two blazing suns beat down upon her, scorching her skin and drying her mouth. She could not remember how long she had been walking, nor could she remember why she had come to this desolate place. Her memory of the past few days was only pieced together with fragments, leaving behind dark gaps that she could not recall. "What am I doing here?" she thought, her mind hazy and confused. "How did I even get here?"

Endless dunes and a burning horizon - the air seemed to consist only of boiling water particles. The heat was so intense that it made her head spin. But suddenly, the past rushed in, and with it, the unsettling reason for her suicidal mission. She had braved the dense jungle, climbed rugged mountains, and traversed dark caves, slaying dozens of dangerous creatures, only to meet a sad end in the desert.

"How ironic; I'm trying to escape the moon's deadly rays, and now the sun is killing me," Ayana muttered to herself, as her demeanor shifted to a somber state. "Oskayaat, my beloved island. The place where I belong, my haven. I miss you... I need to find my way out of here. Not for me, but for my people."

With dull strides, she traversed the desert sand for hours, her mind devoid of any stirring thoughts, until she suddenly came to an abrupt halt. She began to feel like the sand was swallowing her, like it was alive and trying to consume her, creeping into her weary footwear and her tattered garments, filling her up like an insidious parasite. As disturbing as this hallucination was, it was just a fleeting glimpse of what might happen if she failed; a dark foreshadowing of the dire consequences that lay ahead.

"What if I never make it out?" she thought, her heart racing with panic. "What if I'm trapped here forever? The burden of breaking this curse rests solely on my shoulders. If I fail, we are doomed."













Ayana stumbled and fell to her knees, her body wracked with exhaustion. She closed her eyes, and the lines between reality and fantasy blurred together.
"This is a dream," she thought as she felt herself lying in the sinister tomb of the desert gods. "This can't be real."

But even in her darkest hour, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something important within sight - something that would change everything.

"What am I looking for?" she asked herself again, her voice barely a whisper. "Why did I come here? Darama..."

And so she lay there. With each passing moment, her life force slipped away, leaving her vulnerable to the mysterious and captivating shadows that gathered within her mind's eye.

"Finally, will I be torn to pieces, or will my people live?"

The sounds of fierce growls and snapping teeth merged into a deafening symphony as her humanity faded into darkness.




Upcoming next week: Something for the most resilient among you.





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reetings to all the spell lovers and rune fetishists out there. It is time to show the world your attitude with our brand new Witchcraft Set.




Experience some otherworldly out of body experiences in your Witchcraft Bed and stow your magic accessories stylishly in the Witchcraft Chest.






The Witchcraft Chair and the Witchcraft Table are some solid additions for every little gingerbread house.





The Witchcraft Portal takes you to unknown dimensions with one step, while the Witchcraft Herbs do not even need a step to do so.




The Witchcraft Cauldron houses a ravenous little creature. Feed it your best foes.





When bought, these items are directly delivered to you as decoration kits, which can be unwrapped inside your house. The unwrapped decoration items are non-takeable and also indestructible.

Decorate for honour and glory!Your Community Managers

ellow Tibians, new game worlds are about to be launched!

If you live for combat with other players and do not pull your punches in these situations, get ready.

Next week, on Wednesday, May 17, we plan to set up two new Retro Hardcore PvP game worlds: These worlds will be protected by BattlEye and will be blocked for character world transfers for a significant amount of time. Please note, though, that depending on how their populations evolve, it may still be possible that these worlds will be opened for transfers or even be merged with other worlds at some point of time.

Initially, only Premium accounts will be able to play on Gravitera and Jacabra.

Into the fray!Your Community Managers