Chapter 3
You must be level 50 to start this quest line.This quest cannot be completed solo, you will need a group or more to complete Chapter 3, and must have completed the prologue, Chapter 1, and Chapter 2. 


Once you've completed Chapter 2, continue speaking with Master Raystan to obtain the quest: [Spirits]: To the Front.
Master Raystan wants you to offer your assistance to Master Mills at the Forward Camp.
Speak with Larrisa who will teleport you to the Forward Camp. 

Once teleported to the Forward Camp, speak with Master Mills to complete this part of the quest.
Continue speaking with him to obtain the quest: [Spirits]: A Simple Task.
Master Mills wants you to clear the nearby camps and defeat the commander.
Defeat all mobs within a camp until an Albion banner appears over the camp.

Continue to each camp until all 4 camps are cleared and have the Albion banner displayed.
Uther's Allies will continue to spawn from the portal and attempt to repopulate the camps.
Position one or two players at the portal to kill these mobs as they appear.
Once all camps have been cleared, the commander will spawn from the Portal.
Defeat Centurion Flavius.

Return to Master Mills to complete the quest and obtain your bracer reward.


  • After completing Chapter 2, visit the following NPCs to continue on to Chapter 3:
    • Albion: Master Raystan in the Otherworlds' Lyonesse, Chapter 2 area
    • Midgard: Master Rarold in the Otherworlds' Vanern Swamp, Chapter 2 area
    • Hibernia: Master Moore in the Otherworlds' Bog of Cullen, Chapter 2 area
  • Attack the camps!
    • Scouts have uncovered a force of new enemies gathering in the Otherworlds. Take the fight to them and earn the Otherworldly Bracer reward!
    • With Chapter 3, players are now able to venture to the final area of the Otherworldly Lyonesse, Vanern Swamp, and Bog of Cullen zones!
    • Discover more Otherworldly Essences in these new areas!

Fan Fiction

Journal of Erudithe
Mistress of the Elementals

Today I am presented with a singularly interesting thought. An introspective question fit only for a mage of some talent and patience. Where to begin...

What do I prefer, simply. The challenge and ability, no, excuse, to immerse with my elementals in properly maintaining my clothing, complexion and equipment from this incessant fog, dreary landscape, and the occasional impetuously aimed spray of mud from soldiers step too near, or my study in Camelot with a perfectly hot cup of chamomile, a cushion of moderate weight but perfect balance, my library of unrivaled quality, and minds of such quality as to appreciate me, and I our conversations there. A question with more than one answer, perhaps, precisely due this place, a place which I increasingly fear is tied to the unknown world of dreams. Forbidden by some, as I would forbid a mage of anything but master craft, but masters go where they may. I smile.

Master Mills is here at the front of our reach into this new world. The forward camp he calls it, apparently he has mobilized with our soldiers. Fine that, still he was always pleasant conversation, more so than unlearned soldier. I will assist completion of this simple task presented, provided it gains me knowledge of this place. He licks his lips, thoughts somewhat obscured by boyish charm eight score years past. Still, it warms the heart. I will share knowledge with this old friend once task rends completed.

It always amazes me how quickly I form an army simply by strolling towards an enemy encampment. What do our soldiers see? A beautiful Avalonian walking alone towards the enemy front, towards these creatures displaying insignia as Uther's allies? Almost instantly I am surrounded on all sides by the stoutest Britons, Half Ogres, and Saracens in attendance, swords, and staves brandished in upward thread of use. Self: moderation in all things, or a lady could lose bearing due earthly distractions.

Recall this task: clear the nearby camps and defeat the commander, requests Master Mills. Silly man, I spare a glance back to Master Mills. An elementalist has no need to dirty hands, she simply summons her elementals. Arms raised, my men attack on turn of hands.

Interesting. Tents as I specifically remember tents of traveling merchants outside of Sauvage, tents down to the quality of fabric woven of Saracen craft. A dream world, indeed. But more so, incorporating our personal dreams. Of wonder, what does that half ogre gazing in my direction see and dream of?

Perhaps that was a poor choice of subjects. I am, after all, still a beautiful woman. A shame a half ogre could not love me for my mind. Of certain his grasp on body and matter would not be enough for my elemental needs. I continue to scan this new arena. Oh was he protecting me? How sweet. No thinning hairline, well that's something at least.

Task at hand. A magnificent portal shimmers in the middle of the camp. One of such construction as fled this Uther. I must inspect further and forthwith. This holds a key to understanding this place. A statement as sure as energy pure.

Our banner flies above the first encampment; with the wave of my hand, the men proceed with their earthly slaughter. I ponder. Is it earthly slaughter if these be apparitions of dream and spirit bound? All signs point to yes, given glued smile of immense satisfaction on my would be protector's face. At least he is currently satisfying himself elsewhere.

Oh! An ally of Uther has materialized out of this portal. He heads straight for me, of course not the camp behind me. A brief moment of study, and then my air Elementals beg release. Granted. My babies have their way with this one, and the next, though I attempt certain study while they be preoccupied with immeasurable stunnings. Don't begrudge a lady her tools of trade. I note health, vulnerability to the elements, and energy expended in materialization from portal of unknown origin. The latter bears further study; it does not align with known levels yet remains unwaveringly stable.

A cheer sounds at the far camp. Ah, it has been claimed by Albion. I suppose Inconnus deserve to fight alongside the greater races, still, cheer of boys was never so enthralling as they may believe. Without time for further inflection on matter, a beastly centurion of spirit with enchanted blade appears. I am his closest target. A roar of substantial quality that vibrates the elements within my body. My pets protest, again. Release ensured, they surround this creature, Centurion Flavious so named. And such a sword as causes brief stop of breath. Still, it is a centaur.

When finally I have the quiet needed for full elemental contemplation, I reflect on this battle. The men behaved as expected. Yet the magic emanating from that portal, the mastery of the elements needed to send simple allies hither. It causes me pause. Patience and pertinence is virtue of all experienced mages still living. More information is needed. I must advance with the front. My studies concluded, I return to Master Mills with tidbits of learnings. Again he smiles. The day is but young.

And her notes

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