Inside a bar, somewhere in the Kingdom of Eternals…

“I trust you heard the news?”

“About the flag? Yeah. Apparently it’s a pretty big deal. The Queen’s already ordered the 14th Expeditionary Fleet to investigate.”

“The 14th? That’s The Grand Mariner’s command isn’t it? The Queen isn’t toying around.”

“I heard the Immortal Empire is scrambling to hire Hadrai’da to help them attempt to recover whatever that flag came from. Maybe that’s part of the reason. Rumor has it even the Stormchasers are interested.”

“The Stormchasers?”

“Big clan of super well-equipped Hadrai’da, led by an avarga named Tangata. These guys love danger and only take on the crazy contracts that no one else will. So if they’ve got their eyes on this flag thing, it’s gotta be something they think is worthwhile.”

“I bet the Oduun Corsairs will stick their nose in this as well. Pirate scum never keep away when opportunities like these present themselves.”

“Sounds like it’ll be a party. And a bloody one at that. Glad I’m not a part of it.”

“You haven’t heard anything about what exactly it is they’re all after?”

“Nothing definitive. Supposedly it’s some old Immortal Empire artifact. Perhaps thium tech? Beats me. Although I have heard a name tossed around in conversation a few times… Ouroboros.”

“Ouro–what now?”

“Ouroboros.”

“Never heard of ‘em. You know who it is?”

“Pfft. Beats me. Your guess is as good as mine.”

From the corner, an old raggedy saagas fisherman speaks.

“Aye… I know the name you speak of. But that name in particular don’t come without weight. Ouroboros the Heretic they called him. ‘Tis a tale few know, and even fewer bore witness, so listen close. ‘Cause this isn’t just some sailor’s yarn spun from imagination over cheap drink and pretty coin. This is cold, heavy truth, boy.

There’s a creature out there. Somewhere deep in the Zokirian Ocean. An ara’atan most folk forget the moment they step back on land—if they even make it back at all: Veldraxis. The Tyrant of Tides. It don’t show itself often, that’s for sure. But when it does, whole fleets vanish like smoke. Some say it’s the sea’s will made flesh. An insatiable monstrosity that craves death and destruction. Others… heh, well they won’t even speak of it at all.

But I was there. The day he decided to challenge the tide. The day Ouroboros the Heretic broke faith with the Immortal Empire in pursuit of fame and glory. The day he condemned us all to a dark and salty doom.

He was a soldier, stationed on the island of Caceres, not unlike myself. Assigned to guard duty, ‘twas a quiet post. Too quiet for a man like him. Ouroboros was never the kind to wait around and rot in someone else’s shadow. He had ambition, and he had contempt for the Empire’s doctrine—its rules, its so-called honor. To him, it was blind loyalty—nothing more than a slow, pointless death.

So one night, he made his move. From under cover of night, he took the Empire’s magnum opus—their finest war machine. A walking tower of mechanized steel and fire, built to end wars before they began. The Harbinger, they named it. The reason we were there.

At the time, the Immortal Empire sought to expand their reach, to conquer claimed and unclaimed land and sea alike. And the Harbinger was the key to doing so.

But Ouroboros was impatient, and selfish, and conceited. He knew the Empire could not succeed in their mission so long as Veldraxis lived and threatened them. And so he set out to tame it. To him, killing the great beast would carve his name into the bones of history, immortalize him as the hero who broke the chains that bound his countrymen. But challenging a tyrant oh so often has its consequences.

I do not know what he did, or how he found Veldraxis. Or perhaps it found him. Either way, we were the ones to pay the price.

The outpost was swallowed without warning, and in the end, not even Ouroboros could finish what he started. The Harbinger was lost beneath the waves. And the Empire wiped their hands clean—buried the truth, branded him a traitor, and let the sea carry the blame.

But I remember. I survived that night. And now, I alone live to tell the tale.

His banner’s been spotted again. The same mark that flew above Caceres before it all came crashing down. Folks are whisperin’, diggin’ where they shouldn’t. Thinkin’ maybe the Harbinger can be found. Reclaimed.

An old rumor used to go ‘round that there was another island. Further out. Some shrouded sanctum shielded from the outside world. Who knows what lies there, but if there was ever a place to start searching…

But there are surely things out there that won’t appreciate being disturbed. The sea forgets nothing. And Veldraxis… it’s still somewhere out there too…watching and waiting.

So if you plan to follow this tale to its end, best you know what sort of waters you’re wadin’ into.”

“And how are we supposed to know everything you said is true?”

“Guess there be only one way to find out.”