A repository of historical ephemera presented chronologically. There are circumstances still waiting to be discovered for those brave enough to peer around the edges of the world. This reality is faceted; each plane a reflection of corrupted shadow and light. Diligence.
Notice: This cache will be updated as necessary. Click on any image to view it larger.
“It drifted silent and unnoticed through the crowd, like a lingering shadow. Its dark robes billowed and floated like an ebony fog. Where a face should have been was… nothing.”
“In the entresol between Levels Three and Four sits Cedric’s Eatery. It’s not a place visited by tourists or non-residents of the cafe’s warren…”
“Lovat is a city-state, and one of the most powerful political and economic forces in the Territories. It holds a large swath of land along the coast, stretching from the Victory wall in the north to the Rediviva in the south. It’s protected by ocean on one side and a massive mountain range on the other. It’s a natural fortress.”
“A strange pink sign grabbed my attention as it crookedly glowed on one wall, lighting the interior. An animal rendered in neon looked over its shoulder, some sort of tentacle appendage twisting out of its smiling cartoonish face.”
“Well, here’s to the Breakers,” I said, lifting my paper cup. “May they actually do some good.”
Every warren has a secret.
Figures of Creation, No. 12 – Maero
Figures of Creation, No. 10 – Dimanian
W H I S P E R E R S
“He is coming. Can’t you smell it on the wind?”
R I S E
Look west, dear roaders.
U S H E R
Look west, dear roaders.
G A T H E R
K I N D L E
Figures of Creation, No. 9 – Humanity
In the lower depths, shadows gather. Somewhere in the warren’s twisted alleys, a clock strikes, its chime a number never before heard. Lights flicker briefly casting glows in colors indescribable before returning to their dull yellow hum. Is that chanting?
Can you hear the rush of wind from deserts unseen?
Time to get back at it, roaders.
They exist in the fissures between—realms of dust and dream. There knowledge and madness are bedfellows and sanity is as fleeting as whispers in the wind. Do you hear something ringing?
The city stills. The air grows heavy with pressure; it weighs on shoulders and sinks in lungs. Something stirs. One feels it more than hears it, a deep resonate thrum, like the heartbeat of the world. Beneath the city, a King Tide rises.
Many of these images have been posted on other social media accounts over the last few years and have never fully been assembled into one “master” location. This post has now rectified that oversight and I will continue to update it as necessary. If you’re confused, take heart, my friend, we all begin as colorless novices. I recommend starting here. (Well, start with my books first, then that post.) Ignore the whispers, those are just echoes from the wasteland.
See you soon, roader.
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