Adstrom

Enoch the Enduring starts counting his coins and stacking his bread so that he might perhaps one day also acquire a fancy poster.

at the end of the day.. I guess you could say… it really did matta

A reluctant aspiring half beast-tamer half strong-man practices lifting lions!

"PREPOSTEROUS!” The so-called ‘BRUTAL BARON’ exclaims from his throne as a DISTRUGEBOT reads the missive aloud to him. The iron caricature of an angered emperor, cloaked in green. His chalice of gold and gemstones is hurled against the wall. What remains would never again dare to hold wine. Thunder crashes, and legions of strange machines begin to gather in the halls of cold stone. “We must parley with these imprudent constructs at once. They do not yet know brutality, but I assure you, I will teach them!”

"Thank the Skies she did not make me play that damned tambourine." Enoch mused to himself, having departed from the palace rather briskly once the bard's performance had concluded. To him, there was little merit to be found there elsewise. It seemed he was right, in the end.

TO THE RANGER, My name is Enoch. There is little to that name but what I have seen. A stray woodsman who knows how to live from wild to wild. With experience, the title of a survivalist, and a fighter. With desperation, a sufficient explorer and an amateur naturalist. I am efficient with the weapons of the knightly and the arms of the holy, though I will not use them as other men claim to tell or scramble to command. I wish to give the forsaken the reprieve they deserve, by the only means they know. Written through steel and fire and delivered through prayer to peace. The monsters of this world deserve rest, one way or the next. ENOCH

“The snow breaks for machines of faultless design. Iron sabatons assail the fresh stone. Steel hands illuminate dark chambers for the first time. The Baron lays claim to his fated throne.” - DISTRUGEBOT, DESIGNATION: [DISTRUGESPEARE] FROM THE ICY LABORATORIES OF DISTRUGESTADT, I, BARON DISTRUGERE, write to you with triumph. To the great relief of my many machine architects and laborers, the final rock is now in place, and my fortress is complete. DISTRUGESTADT, my great castle of clockwork. It looms steadfast against the northern ice, providing sanctuary to all who study in science or in steel and to all whose faux blood glows of luminescent green. Long have I waited for this moment. In time, the frigid howling of cold wind shall be replaced by the melodious rhythm of whirring cogs and rising smog. A great celebratory feast is to be held, prepared by the one and only STEFAN EULER, the finest cook in all of Aevos and beyond. As with all things done by DISTRUGERE, do not come foolishly believing the event to be any bore of mundane tedium. Invitations are cast to any who might find my fortress, for the gates shall never be abandoned. Machine gatekeepers need not dream, not even of clockwork sheep. Should one desire audience with DISTRUGERE, this shall be your greatest chance. If you seek me, look to the mountains of the Ailmere, where the great lake borders and rear rivers of Haense divulge. Travelers be warned, for evil things brew beneath the thick layers of ice. But fear not, weary wayfarer of the North, for the DISTRUGEBOT delivers safety through stalwart steel. My DISTRUGEBOTS shall greet all guests, and all shall be welcomed in good minded faith. Special invitations are to be sent to the members of the MIDNIGHT SUN, dispersed throughout the realm. SIGNED,

If you're wanting to play a mechanic / machine related character, you might be interested in playing a clockwork construct! They are, as one might expect, entirely oriented around that kind of niche. I am currently heading a group of them, so if that sounds like something you might enjoy, feel free to dm me on discord for more details! [spaceoddlty]

She blood on my magic till I benleft

REPORT OF THE EXPLORATION CORPS EXPEDITION INTO THE WARREN OF CROWN AND COMPASS IN THE YEAR 147 S.A. A charcoal illustration of the Aedui chief meditating before a great tree. BY THE IRON BARON, VINCENTE VON DISTRUGERE, OF DISTRUGESTADT, UNDER THE NORTHERN GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY. The expedition began close to Chambery’s own port, a mere handful of furlongs from the back gate of Petra. It was there, by the great cliffs of the looming memory tree, that the warrior chieftain and our source of information Averemix was found meditating amidst an overlook. Though I shall not spend much time to dwell on the many insights given to us by Averemix of his culture and the indigenous tribes of the Aedui and Godwini, that information was transcribed efficiently by the good gnome Merfizannib Miminendilpigglegeggle, for any whom would wish to observe it. What I shall instead focus my attention upon is the relic gifted to us by the warrior chieftain himself and the discoveries which it led to. A small metallic bowl, or so he had claimed, which we soon discovered thereafter was a compass from which the needle had been crudely extracted long ago. Thankfully, due to the diligence of Signora Elizabeth Brae, the leader of such an expedition, we were able to swiftly repair it with a new indicator, sacrificed solemnly by her own personally issued NGS exploratory apparatus. A recreation of the compass. At once, granted new life, the metallic pointer whirled Eastward, instead of North. Immediately we detected that it was indeed altered, leading to some place of mystery rather than true directional attunement. Naturally, we set off to follow its whims in accordance. After a long trek through the plains of the East and its many kingdoms of man, we came to a stop at a large decrepit chapel of stone. Within it, there was a series of renowned religious busts, in addition to inscriptions of faded Flexio. I made attempts to translate them, but time was not on my side. Were I to guess with what I now know of the dangers within, I would make an educated assumption that it warns something akin to the following: HIC IACET CAPTIONEM, HERE LIES TRAPS. 𝄞 A sketch of the explorers entering the labyrinth. These words guarded a narrow tunnel downward into what we soon discovered to be a rather tricky labyrinth, forgotten to all but us at that moment. As explorers do, we wasted little time before treading forth into that great expanse of the unknown. Like figures of folklore, we used a coil of rope and the light of a torch to guide our way through the maze, much to little avail. For what felt like hours we wandered and roamed in circles, desperately seeking the slightest change in jagged rock that might denote something further awaiting beyond. It was most certainly a perilous place, designed to best an amateur adventurer. Fortunately, none in attendance were burdened with such inadequacy. I personally located a dim source of light and made the decision to rappel into it with caution. Buried below a deep alluring canyon of possibility, I descended by rope, only to discover a glistening stalagmite spiked and ready at the bottom to impale a lesser man. DISTRUGERE knows of no such fate and made swift return to safe ground. Following this, and much more time lost, I happened upon a low passageway where a large chasm awaited on the other side. It was bordered by rigid columns of crumbling foundation and bore two in the center of the gap where one would need to navigate with great displays of athleticism and care in traveling from one side to the other. Calling the others to me, I made the preparations to do so. 𝄞 A Distrugebot’s rendition of the Baron surveying the chasm. Of course, DISTRUGERE was up to the task. I cleared the gap with ease, and Signora Brae used her arcanic prowess to join me soon in the wake, maintaining her magic for a swift escape should it become necessary. Before us there was a large chest, its hinges rusted with age and wear. However, as always, I had come with all the possibilities formulated. Taking a large pouch, I filled its brim with loose rock and gravel nearby, readying it in hand to make a swift swap, lest a rigged trap be sprung. With practiced precision and brevity I heaved the compartment open, claimed what was within, and replaced it with the sack. Silence followed, for it had worked. I leapt back across, and Signora Brae blinked through the Void. What I had seized was a pair of keys. Both were rusted, one beyond recognition. I resolved to repair the broken tool in my spare time and transferred the usable one to Elizabeth for safekeeping. A recreation of the key. We were further plagued by a watery dead man’s end that Merf was brave enough to dive into, though it resulted in little save the loss of breath and the dampening of good garments. Determining that we had conquered all there was to see here, we returned to the surface to plot out our next move. It was then that another lead was remembered, of the position of an ancient barrow belonging to the Godwini on the outskirts of Aaun. This is what had spurred our expedition altogether, and where it would find its end. Hours passed as we traversed into the Valley of Kings, a tranquil meadow embedded in betwixt a cascading volley of rolling ridges. Barrows surrounded us on all sides, nestled amidst the crooks of the mountains. Many were empty, some were not, but we explored each that was found. An etching of the Valley. Of the tombs that were discovered, only one is worth mentioning - though it has earned that right greatly. In the final catacomb we searched, a locked sarcophagus of wood fit the rusted key we had claimed. Within, it had concealed an entombed ruler, a skeleton most grandiose. To our surprise, a withered relic devised of sapphires, gold, and pearls rested atop the skull, which was soon realized to belong to the Once-King Alwyn of Aaun, the Mer-King, son of Horen II. This brought about a conclusion to our endeavors for the day. Having achieved much, the explorers and I returned to the Port for celebration. There have since been talks with the people of Aaun, so that the crown might be laid to display in its home, where it belongs: within a museum. A recreation of the crown, with splashes of dye. THE IRON BARON, VINCENTE VON DISTRUGERE

A rendition of what would be DISTRUGESTADT, looming steadfast against the North. ♫ The march of machinery grows, and smog hisses against the frigid air. Metal hands and iron architects lay stones against the framework of a fortress that climbs high toward the sky and cuts deep into the earth. A chilled wind carries the sound of clockwork throughout the mountaintops. FROM THE LABORATORIES OF VON DISTRUGERE INDUSTRIES, I, BARON DISTRUGERE, write to you. The time is nearing rapidly, for the final walls are being set into place. Through great unending torment, I have triumphed, and now I alone oversee the assembly of my stronghold. But I am not in solitude. With every new dawning day, more machines awaken, and more flock to our cause. The Midnight Sun rises, and soon it may shed its light on the world. Once more, an invitation is cast to those driven by ambitions unknown. A call to the scientists of Aevos, to the researchers, to the mad. But above all, a final summons to the automata who walk this plane. If it is purpose which you lack, come to me, and you will be gifted it. If it is isolation that plagues you, find me, and it will be broken. By that same token, all who would oppose DISTRUGERE are likewise invited to venture to my halls when they fall complete, so their grievances might be heard. For the IRON BARON is compassionate, and he does not know fear; though it does know him dearly. SIGNED, VINCENTE VON DISTRUGERE, THE IRON BARON, SOVEREIGN OF DISTRUGESTADT ♫ In a chamber beneath the ice, works of cog and gear gather. They chant a strange hymn, a foreign code devised from their master. -- 01000001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01001111 01100010 01100101 01111001 00100000 01010100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01001001 01110010 01101111 01101110 00100000 01000010 01100001 01110010 01101111 01101110 01000001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01001111 01100010 01100101 01111001 00100000 01010100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01001001 01110010 01101111 01101110 00100000 01000010 01100001 01110010 01101111 01101110 -- A new machine awakens, the final lieutenant. It is given a single command. [ENABLE DIRECTIVE: (ASPETTARE/VEGLIARE )]

MC Name: Adstrom Discord: adstrom Image: Description of Image: The Baron, gesturing towards DISTRUGESTADT. Dimensions: 1x1