“Wait up, Allard!”

You and Burt struggle to keep up with the golden figure striding west through the streets of Windrose City. Everyone had packed with such haste that you worry if anything might be left behind.

“Time is of the essence. Just grab your essentials and spell books, minnows,” Allard had growled just moments ago, strapping on his huge sheathed claymore and checking that the corrupt shard was safely packed. “If we forget anything, Nessie can fly it over.”

“What do you think it is?”

You and Burt stare at the crystallized crimson object, observing it from every angle. The Shuffle’s grand prize lies upon its black velvet pillow on a table in Quatal’s home. Without Quatal, the place seems lifeless, and even more so with the ominous object at the center of the room. You had lit some candles inside the house, but once the chest had been opened to display the crystal, it felt as though all the warmth and light had been sucked from the room.

“Welcome back to The Shuffle! I hope you all placed your bets for this final series!”

Dela shouts as the crowd roars. The sun creeps past the top of the stands, projecting a shadow over half of the arena dome. With the night on its way, lanterns are being lit, and a large magical globe of light is hung over the table where the two competitors will battle for the championship.

“Hey you, are you a contestant?” A rough voice calls from behind you.

You shake your head at a burly whisker wielding an axe and a round shield.

“Off the stage then; we’re about to start.”

“...'scuse me.” You and Burt rush through the dusty streets of Amalhasu, looking for the same alley where Zul’grasi previously held his pop-up shop.

“Excuse me,” Burt says, more as an impatient warning than a polite apology. But the other whiskers don't seem to hear him anyway, making it difficult to navigate. “How can the streets be so busy this early in the morning?”

“I don’t know what Quatal was so worried about,” says Burt as he climbs out into the blinding sun. “What did he say again? The Crimson Sands thirst for something. Well, nuts to him, cos we’ve already got our hands on some Highland coffee and the day’s not even through yet!”