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Revision as of 16:17, 28 November 2005

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<b>Mystech</b>

<b>Mystech</b>

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<i>Torches. I’m exhuming a tomb, with a torch. </i>The pitch soaked bundle threw sparks and spat on odd occasions, and smelled far worse than Krieg had imagined it would.  His grip tightened on the pick, and he let a trickle of Essence flow into it. His hands followed the rill, and his pick swung of its own accord, finding the weak point in the wall. The blow sank in, and Krieg stepped back.

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Torches. I’m exhuming a tomb, with a torch. <i>The pitch soaked bundle threw sparks and spat on odd occasions, and smelled far worse than Krieg had imagined it would.  His grip tightened on the pick, and he let a trickle of Essence flow into it. His hands followed the rill, and his pick swung of its own accord, finding the weak point in the wall. The blow sank in, and Krieg stepped back.

For a moment nothing happened. Then the wall began to crumble and fall. The tomb exhaled the breath that it had contained for a thousand years. Krieg could feel the pestilence that it contained, and was glad that the amulet he wore next to his breast protected him from just such nastiness. The torch began to gutter and wane, and then sprang back as the draught from the outside cleared the tomb scent away.

For a moment nothing happened. Then the wall began to crumble and fall. The tomb exhaled the breath that it had contained for a thousand years. Krieg could feel the pestilence that it contained, and was glad that the amulet he wore next to his breast protected him from just such nastiness. The torch began to gutter and wane, and then sprang back as the draught from the outside cleared the tomb scent away.

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Alone in the tomb, the jade guardians crumbled to shards, the molds and lichens faded, the fresh air too much for their delicate systems. All that was left was the funery mask, the Codex, a foul taste in Krieg’s mouth, and the words the forgotten King had burned into his brain.

Alone in the tomb, the jade guardians crumbled to shards, the molds and lichens faded, the fresh air too much for their delicate systems. All that was left was the funery mask, the Codex, a foul taste in Krieg’s mouth, and the words the forgotten King had burned into his brain.

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As Krieg hefted the Codex into his bag, he was accompanied with the scent of orchids. It clung to him, the scent forever of doubt and regret, to the end of his days.

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As Krieg hefted the Codex into his bag, he was accompanied with the scent of orchids. It clung to him, the scent forever of doubt and regret, to the end of his days.</i>

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<b>Mystech and the Realm</b>

The Realm is the source of innovation in mystech and sorcery. The Heptagram’s Universities are the finest schools in the Creation. The Kraftwerks are the source for the vehicles, the very Aetherstones that power the society. The Golems that toil in the factories are produced by the Realm’s White Registry, with Spirits provided by the Celestial Bureaucracy.

The Realm is the source of innovation in mystech and sorcery. The Heptagram’s Universities are the finest schools in the Creation. The Kraftwerks are the source for the vehicles, the very Aetherstones that power the society. The Golems that toil in the factories are produced by the Realm’s White Registry, with Spirits provided by the Celestial Bureaucracy.

TheLongSecondAgeSetting/Mystech--JakkBey - Revision history

Jakk Bey: *

Jakk Bey: *