There was once a man who wielded a legendary blade. Carved from the finest metals and said to be infused with the blood of the gods themselves, it was said to be capable to cutting through Zeus himself. The hero kept it

When I was a kid, I remember there was this ridiculously lavish abode. Adorned with gold, silver and platinum, it was pure spectacle that even Zeus himself would be embarassed by. A normal extravagance for the rich and famous yet it

There's a saying in this world, it doesn't matter how strong or powerful or godlike we may be, all our tales end with eternal judgement by the fallen God in the ice cold throne. The eternal Fate of everyone who lives in

There was once a boy trapped in the shadow of his famous father. A celebrated hero who saved Arcadia time and time again from that which goes bump in the night suddenly vanishes into thin air. Leaving behind a grieving son way

History has had many it's share of heroes, those brave men and women who walked into the darkness so others could be free in the light. Some journeys were successful, giving these saviors immortality in tales of what one good soul

There was once a man whose whole life resolved around tragedy, fear and misfortune. Evil clouded around and picked apart everything good and pure he ever knew Every step he took something else failed, every action he would falter and worsen the

Sometimes in order to see the true nature of this world, you have to look beyond the visual into the spectrum of emotion underneath. Blind yourself to the falsehood of preconceived notions to truly see the world as it should be. A

For as long as anyone can remember, our world has been on the eve of destruction. Chaos reigns, evil running rampant while the good are suffocated and weakened because they won't bend the knee to a tyrant who rules through fear. A

Before I walked the halls of Olympus, before I was a pain in the ass of a grumpy old fart wrapped in bandages, I was a blue eyed innocent kid who thought he could change Arcadia with nothing but a

I've never been fond of photographs, they can twist memory, create false propoganda and can make the greatest tale fantastical in a world that needs legends. But sometimes they're all the proof you need to sort fiction from reality, even when

Since I can remember, there's been a sweet yet macabre voice echoing throughout the soul of Arcadia. The strings of death have always and will always be the theme song of this world and anytime a force tries to rewrite that

There was once an inventor, a blacksmith of old who could create masterpieces with the most fragile of tin. Many a legend was crafted through the tools he gave noble warriors as tales of his gift spread throughout Arcadia. Until Zeus himself

When I was a kid, I had a carefree existence. Never wanted for anything, always felt loved and cared for. Nothing off limits. Except for two things. The blade I hold on my shoulder. And a tiny little box that my father kept

It wasn't long ago that I nearly walked down that path of burning vengeance trying to find the one who killed my father. Days upon months of searching through the shadows, battered and bruised wading through the scum to find answers. Slowly

My dad used to whisk me to sleep with tales of valiant, stalwart protectors from all walks of life. I'd spend every waking moment pretending to save the world But Arcadia is a broken and soulless place that's not fit for a