SOULS
Die and you drop every soul you were carrying, right where you fell. Go back and get them.

A co-op action RPG on Roblox
Take it back. Raid procedural dungeons, kill the guardians sealing each realm, and forge what you drag home into gear worth carrying.
Die and you drop every soul you were carrying, right where you fell. Go back and get them.
Swords, bows and magic staffs. Dodge, aim, and learn the elements — Flame beats Frost beats Tide beats Rot.
Every shop starts as rubble. Chop, mine and haul it back to raise them again.
Temper at the Blacksmith, infuse at the Sorcerer, brew at the Alchemist.
FOUR SEALED REALMS
Each realm is sealed, and each is held by a guardian. A realm’s name is also the name of the song that opens it — find Emberfall and you already know the key. Beat all four to open the Sundergate itself.

A sentinel the height of a tower, pacing the basin it was set to hold and rehearsing its swordsmanship between passes. When the orb in its chest lights, the cast is already on its way.
Held by the Void Colossus · rot

Armoured, anchored and immovable, holding the tideline against everything that comes up it. It fights with the whole weight of the thing it carries, and a miss takes it a long moment to come back from.
Held by the Tidevault Knight · tide

The blade that holds the cold middle, and nothing there thaws while it stands. It gives no ground and asks for none — come ready to take it a piece at a time.
Held by the Dread Blade · dark

The last thing standing between Cinderheart and anyone who reached it, walking in embers behind a curved sabre. Quicker between blows than anything else holding a basin, so the openings are shorter and there are more of them — and he has the health to make you find every one. The dragon overhead is not his and is not the fight.
Held by the Emberstep Knight · flame

HUNT TOGETHER
Study their attacks. Break their guard. Claim the relics they were never meant to lose.

THE ENDGAME
Beat all four guardians and the Sundergate itself opens onto a walled courtyard — closed on every side, one door in, and no walking away from what is standing in it. Gather your party and take the final boss.
Then keep going. Any of the game’s 18 bosses can be made to come through that gate, so the raid does not end when the story does.

EVERYTHING OUT THERE
Every creature, guardian and keeper currently in the game — 55 entries, straight from the bestiary the game itself reads.

A pale sentinel carrying a starfall blade. Found in the Snowfields. Cold and precise — the openings are small, but they come regularly.

Crimson plate and a greatsword that carries fire. Found in the Volcano. It commits hard — punish the commitment rather than trading with it.

A warden that did not stop when it should have, still carrying its maul. Found on the Coast. Slow, relentless, and it does not flinch.

A tall warden in dark plate with a dread blade. Found in the Snowfields. It presses rather than waits, so giving ground only buys a moment.

A slab of a guard behind a stone maul. Stands in village dungeons. Every swing is signposted and every swing commits; the gap afterwards is yours.

Plated and blunt, swinging a broad axe. Stands in village dungeons. It winds up plainly and commits to it, and the room left after a miss is the whole fight.

Heavy iron plate behind a greatsword. Found on the Coast. Wide arcs and a long recovery, so moving sideways works where backing off does not.

A robed overlord leaning on a plague staff. Found in the Volcano. It fights at range as readily as up close, so the ground between you is the decision.

Old stone bound into armour, carrying a relicward maul. Stands in village dungeons. It hits in long readable arcs — read one and you are behind it.

A warden cut from the same stone as the hills, maul in both hands. Found in Autumn. Heavy and deliberate; patience beats pressure.

Storm-forged plate with a breaker hammer in hand. Found on the Coast. The hammer is the tell; when it goes up, be somewhere else.

A titan rebuilt with machinery, swinging a maul the size of a door. Found in the Volcano. Nothing about it is quick and nothing about it is safe to stand near.

A titan built for war, hammer in both fists. Found in the Snowfields. Everything about it is heavy, including the pause after it swings.

Overgrown plate behind a briar halberd. Found in Autumn. The reach is the problem — get inside it or stay well outside it.

The blade that holds the cold middle, and nothing there thaws while it stands. It gives no ground and asks for none — come ready to take it a piece at a time.

The last thing standing between Cinderheart and anyone who reached it, walking in embers behind a curved sabre. Quicker between blows than anything else holding a basin, so the openings are shorter and there are more of them — and he has the health to make you find every one. The dragon overhead is not his and is not the fight.

Armoured, anchored and immovable, holding the tideline against everything that comes up it. It fights with the whole weight of the thing it carries, and a miss takes it a long moment to come back from.

A sentinel the height of a tower, pacing the basin it was set to hold and rehearsing its swordsmanship between passes. When the orb in its chest lights, the cast is already on its way.

Not yet written up.

A square-headed thing with a spiked mace, lighter on its feet than it looks. Roams after dark. Backing off does not shake it, so meet it instead.

An armoured skeleton with a bone cleaver, holding its ground like a soldier. Roams after dark. It trades blow for blow, which is a trade you can win.

A heavy skeleton dragging a spiked maul. Roams after dark, and it is in no hurry. Its swing lands hard enough that the answer is simply not to be standing there.

A skeleton lit from the inside, carrying a soul scythe. Roams after dark. It throws a bolt on the way in, so the approach is the dangerous part.

Bare bone in old armour, carrying a battle axe. Roams after dark. There is nothing rotten left in it, so the element that answers the zombies buys you nothing here.

Not yet written up.

A rotted corpse dragging a knotted club. Roams after dark. It commits to a swing and is slow getting back from it, so step in once one has gone past.

Not yet written up.

Not yet written up.

Not yet written up.

Not yet written up.

Not yet written up.

Not yet written up.

Not yet written up.

Rot in old clothes, swinging the same rough club its kin do. Roams after dark. Let the swing through and answer it before it recovers.

Not yet written up.

Not yet written up.

Not yet written up.

A soft grub of the volcano's ash, underground nearly always and unhurried the moment it is not. Finding one is the whole of the work.

A slow burrower under the snowfields, near-blind and in no hurry whatever. The only difficulty is that it is almost never above ground to be caught.

A quick lizard that lives ON the hot rock rather than beside it. It clings without moving until something else does, and then it is gone across the stone.

A bright-tailed climber that lives on the trunks rather than the ground, clinging still and flitting to the next tree when something disturbs it. Look up rather than down.

A thick-fleeced grazer of the autumn slopes with no urgency about it at all. It notices late and it leaves slowly, which is as close to standing still as anything out here gets.

A burrower of the autumn ground, up only in short bursts. You do not track one so much as happen to be standing there when it surfaces.

A long-legged hopper of the coastal silt, down in the wet ground most of the time and three jumps away the moment it is not.

A pale grazer of the snowfields, and a nervous one. It startles from a long way out and is away across the snow before you have finished deciding to try.

A long-eared hare grazing the meadow around the village. It has no attack and never had one; walk too close and it simply bolts. Come at it slowly or do not come at it at all.

A dwarf with a handcart, a pack and a lantern swinging from his staff. He walks a route across the village rather than keeping a plot, and he stops for anyone who hails him on it.

She stands at the shrine's edge, and she is the reason anybody in this village knows what Souls are for. She sells nothing and asks for nothing: the one figure here who exists only to explain.

The Alchemist turns what you carried home into something you can drink. She charges for what goes in the bottle and nothing for the making of it.

The Armourer keeps one rack with swords and staffs on it side by side, so the choice between them is a choice you can see. She sells arms; she does not improve them.

The smith of Ironvale, and the reason a weapon you already own can get better. He tempers with iron, breaks a blade down for what it was made of, and sells you the room to carry the rest.

The Merchant sells goods for Gold and asks nothing else of you. No upgrades, no materials, no conditions — the plainest counter in the village.

The showroom off the ring, and the one place in the village where nothing on sale changes a number. What you buy here is only ever how you look.

The Sorceress works the crystal half of the smith's trade, and hers is the only counter that will put an element into a weapon. What she binds there stays bound.

A stall the village owner stocks out of their own pack, four things at a time, each priced in one material. Guests trade at it whether or not the owner is home, and nobody stands behind it.
Roblox account linking is being built: sign in and this page becomes your record — what you have beaten, what you have forged, and what is still out there.
THE GATE IS OPEN
Free to play on Roblox. Bring three friends, or go alone and lose your souls quietly.
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