[center][img]http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Cqm7JM8M39U/Vvi_1FMvVdI/AAAAAAAAAjE/bG-SyviaLXM9-WUXlszZGFSy9U-3c0Zjw/s300/fan-art-58.jpg[/img]

[img]http://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/b3RmLjYwLmM5MWQxZC5VbTkzWVc0Z1VtVmtjR0YwYUEsLC4w/chapbook.regular.png[/img][/center][hr][color=de2000][b]"And this mechanism has not fallen in Revenant hands in all this time how?"[/b][/color] 

In an unassuming Humani settlement, nestled deep in the Woods, there resided an elder who headed the settlement as a venerable voice of reason and a one-man governing body. Chaplain Maxwell was his name, a man of faith in the path of Raziel. Denied entry into the Nephilim for reasons unknown, he instead established a miniature version of the Institute, a place of holiness where all could find peace if they chose to seek it. It was christened Farshire Abbey and in time, enough people flocked to the abbey for a settlement to be built around it, named Farborough. This was a long time ago and the revered Chaplain now lived out his twilight years in a quiet peace, though evidently he was not object to extending hospitality to itinerant travelers seeking his audience, like this young man before him: Rowan Redpath, ex-Nephilim.

The two were in the Chaplain's humble residence, sitting round the extinguished hearth whilst examining...a certain mechanism of ancient origin that floated mysteriously between the two of them. A bronze spherical device that shone bright with both sheen and holy energy, it radiated a calming presence that more than compensated for the lack of fire. And like fire, when Rowan attempted to touch the mechanism, he found his fingers stung with extreme heat despite his hands being gloved. This action was met with a reprimanding look.

"It is pronounced [i]Mekansm[/i], young Redpath, and I strongly advise against touching it," the Elder said, his voice not losing an inch of command even after all these years. "Alithe and her Revenants have long suspected of the [i]Mekansm's[/i] existence and have sent plenty of forces in seek of it. Their failure is only attributed to me getting better and better at hiding it." And that was a truly necessary skill. This humble bronze orb held great power to be used against the darkness, the last word in Nephilim weaponry. Should it fall into the wrong hands, the forces of Order could be overwhelmed by the turned tide. How a humble man of peace had managed to create such a magnificent weapon was lost to Rowan personally, but Chaplain Maxwell was full of surprises. That much he knew. That much the Nephilim knew.

[color=de2000][b]"If I may, Lord Maxwell, how exactly did this thing come to be? This does not seem like something normal Humani craftsmanship is capable of creating, so how did you do it?"[/b][/color] Rowan asked, still intently eyeing the [i]Mekansm.[/i] The elder leaned back on his chair, rocking it slightly. "In my youth, I came across a set of scrolls containing advanced Dwarven techniques of engineering. They came with schematics to a weapon, potentially of mass destruction. With what I was allowed to learn from the Nephilim, I was able to-" Suddenly Chaplain stopped and looked out his window. Rowan did the same, rising to his feet.

[color=de2000][b]"Do you sense something, my lord?"[/b][/color] the knight inquired once more, hand gripping the hilt of his Braidh already. 

"Yes, a dark force is approaching. We must act with haste and protect the Mekansm with our lives!" Such a commanding presence in so frail a man, Rowan could not disagree. Chaplain Maxwell placed the orb within a small chest and hid it in a special secret compartment on the floor. Meanwhile, Rowan headed out of the residence and scouted the immediate surroundings. The folk of Farborough, seemingly sensing that trouble was approaching, had stopped their activities and made for shelter in their homes. Soon, the bustling settlement was filled with an eerie calm and it was only the knight standing guard over the abbey in the middle of the woods.