Oraculum

The Grand Enigma of 82 Eridani - Small Scale Sci-Fi Chaos and a high player demand!

For as long as any could recall, the city had always been there. To wonder what there could have been before it, or even whether there could ever have been anything at all, was an idle waste of time at best, and a sign of malfunction at worst. All one needed to know was that the city had always stood on what might once have been recognisable as the moon's soil, and that, despite its immeasurable age and the withering decrepitude that seemed to have been spreading through it like some sort of inorganic disease since it existed, it would remain standing for longer than any could imagine. So ancient was it that it seemed natural that it would endure as long as the moon it covered, for, after incalculable centuries of being as one, they could very well be considered to be such. Walls might crumble and collapse, unattended machinery might melt down, shatter or break open, contaminating the empty skies with its lethal exhalations, time-eroded pillars might crush lesser structures under their fragmented bulk, but the city’s supply of yet-intact buildings seemed inexhaustible.

In truth, one could wonder whether it was a city at all, at least in the sense of the word familiar to most creatures capable of speech and coexistence. Few recognisable traces remained of any civilised beings having ever inhabited it, located in narrow, sparse pockets, and it was difficult to conceive what sort of entities could have found themselves at home in such a cramped, almost oppressive environment. However, more difficult still it was to imagine what other purpose the great conglomeration of towers, stratified pathways and wells could have served. The goal of whomever had built it was clearly to provide as much space as possible, divided into uncountable layers, grids, sectors; what could all these units, individually diminutive and outright insignificant if compared with the surface of the moon as a whole, have functioned as, if not neatly organised dwellings? There could be stranger theories, of course – holding or containment cells, storage for extremely exotic and peculiar objects or materials, millions of factories shrunken to an incredible extent – but few of them could be substantiated by what evidence lay scattered in the ruins, and fewer yet did not require an exceptional effort of the mind to consider plausible at all.

Regardless of its purpose, if it had indeed ever had one, the city hurtled blindly through the black void of the cosmos, and lived. The things that moved between its walls, over its highest pinnacles and in its innermost depths, were not akin to the ingenious minds that had designed it: many of them were just as blind and heedless as the city itself, forever running errands no voice had commanded and tending to lives that were not there; others were dim and brutish, no more capable of complex thought and speech than the inhabitants of Gabriel’s oceans or Solomon’s jungles, and surviving by force of that primal cunning and adaptability that had enabled their ancestors to thrive ages before; others yet were lost in bizarre activities, the meaning of which had faded away centuries since. And then, there was them.

They were perhaps not as old as the city, but might have rivalled some of its none-too-late developments in age nonetheless. When the shadows of vertiginous spires were not yet ubiquitous on the moonscape, they were already watching and waiting; and when only the dilapidated husks of the great towers remained, they watched and waited still. Gradually, their experiments and innovations grew too radical and numerous to contain, and spilled out from the darkness of the world’s bowels into the open. As their lair decayed around them, parts of it were modified and rebuilt in strange patterns, while others were arbitrarily abandoned to the rot that seeped in from the surrounding city. Their eyes crawled about in the desolation, seeking something known to them alone, while their hands worked ceaselessly in interminable cycles of improvement and replication. Over thousands of iterations, they had become no less alien and unknowable as they had first been set forth into the world, but had instead refined their inscrutable nature, creeping ever closer to an ideal their creators, whoever or whatever they might have been, had, perhaps unknowingly and perhaps not, strived to attain. Whether there were, or had been, any others like them or not, they did not know, and, truth be told, it was none of their concern; they knew what their goals were – at least, the immediate ones – and how they should go about in reaching them, and they required no more.

What it was exactly they did, no observer could have been certain. Besides bettering themselves to accomplish their tasks, they were clearly constantly occupied with the latter; but the assiduity of their toil could not have shed any light upon its essence. They carried materials from and into the deeps alike; they scurried about in halls of humming engines and grinding mechanisms; they festered in corners and alcoves, and oozed through aimlessly winding corridors; they writhed and twisted in waters no sun had ever touched, and where sightless creatures writhed and twisted alongside them; and none of this hinted at any overarching, universal purpose of their doings, even though such a purpose doubtless existed, as there could have been nothing else to keep them in motion. But this did not concern them, as they knew what they did themselves, and that was all that was necessary; and, all the while, they watched and waited.

The Grand Enigma of 82 Eridani - Small Scale Sci-Fi Chaos and a high player demand!

The Manifold Sight

Name: The Manifold Sight (also referred to as Manifold Eye or, more rarely, Manifold Gaze).

Perspective: Custodian.

Information:

Among the innumerable structures in various stages of decay covering the surface of Ezra, few are as baffling as regards their design and original purpose as one particular complex located in what appears to once have been an industrial district, at a roughly equal distance from the world's northern tropic and pole. This installation, known to its inhabitants as the Cortex, consists of a small fission power plant, regularly supplied and maintained in a functional state, a large number of empty warehouses, several production facilities, most of them inactive, and a number of buildings whose intended function is unidentifiable, having elaborate, sometimes labyrinthine internal structures and containing features and instruments outlandish even by the standards of 82 Eridani's almost omnipresent cryptic ruins. What is especially remarkable is that the placement of buildings within the Cortex seems to be entirely haphazard, with no detectable pattern or scheme aiming to increase the efficiency of the complex's more recognisable processes, and that their architectural styles are wildly inconsistent, with unsightly, utilitarian blocks steps away from complex arrangements of three-dimensional geometrical figures, entirely curvilinear towers and twisted shapes founded on strangely concave angles.

Near the centre of the Cortex, at a short distance from the power plant, there gapes the mouth of a vast sinkhole, the bottom of which would be invisible even if a strong projector light were to be shined into it. From its sides, a number of tunnels branch off into parallel wells and mine shafts, at least one of which reaches deeper than the original cavity, as well as a few systems of subterranean caverns, some of them as vast as the Cortex itself. The sinkhole, known as the Axial Conduit, is the main focus of the complex's inhabitants, the custodian drones calling themselves the Manifold Sight.

The Sight as a group is rather difficult to define in a manner accessible to human knowledge. In basic terms, it is a set of beings who, although capable of functioning optimally separately from one another, become capable of accessing new, extended abilities only when closely cooperating. Another crucial observation would be that several of their core functions are essentially useless unless employed in conjunction with those of the others, rendering the relationship between them similar to a hypothetic instance of endo-organismal adapted symbiosis and reinforcing the supposition that they might have been created or modified (possibly by themselves) to operate as a collective.

The exact nature of the individual entities forming the Sight is unclear. The fact they can directly act through numerous unintelligent, non-living physical bodies or conduits at once (unconfirmed in the case of Dweller) would seem to suggest they might be some form of intelligence designed to be capable of employing various unusual mediums as hardware bases. However, there are several factors opposing such a theory, chief among them the fact that the guises controlled by each entity at any given time do not emit or receive any sort of signal directed at each other, indicating that they cannot be virtually connected by conventional means; additionally, they are only able to interface with each other if at least one (or a section) of their physical forms is located at a specialised terminal, referred to as Nexus, of which there exist several throughout the Cortex and the subterranean network below, alongside a section of their communication's intended recipient. The apparent absence of anything that may resemble a personality or individual psychological profile in any of the beings, and the fundamentally mechanical nature of their actions ad cognitive processes, might contest the theory that they are sapient, or even sentient individuals, and instead support the view that they are extremely complex, but comparatively unsophisticated constructs; yet this would fail to take into account such things as the Sight's remarkable abilities of unprompted innovation and the lack of regular patterns in its overall activity. Altogether, all that is truly known of these beings is that they are clearly artificial in origin, are capable of advanced cognitive, evaluative, strategic and creative mental activity and do not exist as material entities, instead coordinating the actions and properties of distinct bodies created by themselves.

The most visible of the Manifold Sight's components is Watcher, whose main activity is constructing mechanical drones out of the strangely resilient crystalline formations which abound in the mines around the Axial Conduit and putting them to use patrolling the Cortex and maintaining its few active installations, mining materials for further drones and operating the machinery to assemble them, as well as interacting with outside influences. The drones are typically uniform in shape, having a vaguely triangular body (with the figure being positioned horizontally, the hypotenuse directed towards the ground) supported by seven segmented limbs and possessing an array of antenna-like organs of perception at the front. They can, however, be distinguished by the colour of the crystal variety they are built of (which may be either translucent white, opaque violet or a combination of the two) and their size, which varies depending on their function (smaller maintenance drones can reach a minimum of twenty centimetres, while conveyor or combat drones may be as large as five metres). Specialised drones may possess hybrid features, as mentioned below.

Seeker appears to fulfil the role of main information gatherer within the Sight. It does not possess solid physical bodies like Watcher, but rather propagates its consciousness through an artificially designed noble, gas, mildly toxic to most life-forms, being present wherever a sufficiently large mass of it is gathered. Projecting itself through the gas enables Seeker to perceive its immediate surroundings down to their molecular components, as well as detect vibrations, light and temperature fluctuations. The major disadvantage of this conduit is that Seeker cannot actively control its "body" and must rely on other agents, typically Watcher's drones, to move independently of environment factors. Specialised drone models exist that exploit the gas's refractive nature to improve their visual perception, or are capable of releasing it around themselves.

Sentinel is the Sight's equivalent of a weapon, in the broadest sense of the word. Its material presence is represented by webs of fibrous, rubbery biosynthetic material, interspersed with bulbous cartilaginous clumps, typically found in mounds of viscous ooze scattered throughout the Cortex and its nether regions. However, those are not so much its actual conduit as a form of infrastructure necessary for the latter. Sentinel's consciousness is effectively contained in sequences of chemio-electric luminous impulses coursing through the organic constructs, which function somewhat similarly to a neural system, albeit without synapses. If necessary, Sentinel can project itself outside the webs in the form of potent discharges, which can inflict electric shock and considerable blunt physical trauma even at comparatively large distances, or generate temporary static fields which hamper the motion of physical objects and the propagation of energy. Thus, drones designed for combat by Watcher have Sentinel projector webs embedded in their bodies.

The last member of the Sight, Dweller, remains largely an enigma. Its primary function seems to be preserving an artificial ecosystem situated in the deepest caverns below the Axial Conduit, which apparently simulates conditions akin to those present on an Earth-like world during relatively early stages of the evolution of organic life (comparable to the early Terreneuvian series on Earth). The ecosystem is entirely aquatic, with several submerged chambers being maintained at more or less evenly warm temperature; complex algae are abundant within it, as are pluricellular invertebrate animals of various sorts. Dweller has been known to experiment on the life forms it breeds in subterranean laboratories, afterwards releasing the specimen onto Ezra's surface to test their resilience (none has survived for long thus far) or handing them to Watcher for hybridisation with drones or conduits. It is unknown what Dweller's own physical medium is, but, on the basis of its activities, it can be presumed it is organic, perhaps animal- or plant-like in composition.

The Grand Enigma of 82 Eridani - Small Scale Sci-Fi Chaos and a high player demand!

How's this going to continue?

@Liotrent

I am presently working on my own introduction, which, if all goes well, shall be ready within the evening; afterwards, judging by the thread's current title, we may have to wait for a human player to appear in order to begin.

Busting Out of this Fresh Hell

Seizing hold of the basket with his forearm junctures, as his pincers were still out of commission, Old N immediately singled out those of its contents which seemed most perishable (or, rather, those he wanted to eat immediately), and, having selected a particularly malodorous yellowish-green ovoidal fruit and caught hold of it with his mandibles, placed the rest, basket and all - one never knew whether it might be that a basket become of vital importance at some point - into his weathered, lichen-stained sack. He then proceeded to once again forcibly insert himself into the vehicle, a feat which, given his currently increased encumbrance, was even more difficult than the previous time. Now, not only did he have to propel himself through the still outrageously small door, but he was also constrained to push the basket-swollen bag with his head, all while holding the fruit, which it had not occurred to him to place back into the basket (after all, retrieving it would not have been worth the while...). The latter part was especially difficult, as he was constantly in danger of accidentally biting off a piece of it and losing the rest somewhere on the way.

Having finally conveyed the entirety of himself, limbs, head, basket, fruit and all else, into some sort of common chamber - which was just wide enough for him to lie down, barely leaving narrow strips of floor near the walls for anyone else to move, he began to contentedly chew on his acquisition, steadily drifting off into a state of sleep-munching until interrupted by the petulant no-longer-one-armed human. "What we're going to do?" he gurgled, his mouth-surrogate still full of strange-smelling paste, "Something one apparently can't down here. Get a century's sleep. And then some." With these words, he attempted to turn onto his other side, only to remember he was not in a damp, malleable fen, nor lying on his side to begin with; slightly frustrated, he returned to his fruit, and the concomitant attempts at somnambulous consumption.

The Grand Enigma of 82 Eridani - Small Scale Sci-Fi Chaos and a high player demand!

The Manifold Sight

Name: The Manifold Sight (also referred to as Manifold Eye or, more rarely, Manifold Gaze).

Perspective: Custodian.

Information:

Among the innumerable structures in various stages of decay covering the surface of Ezra, few are as baffling as regards their design and original purpose as one particular complex located in what appears to once have been an industrial district, at a roughly equal distance from the world's northern tropic and pole. This installation, known to its inhabitants as the Cortex, consists of a small fission power plant, regularly supplied and maintained in a functional state, a large number of empty warehouses, several production facilities, most of them inactive, and a number of buildings whose intended function is unidentifiable, having elaborate, sometimes labyrinthine internal structures and containing features and instruments outlandish even by the standards of 82 Eridani's almost omnipresent cryptic ruins. What is especially remarkable is that the placement of buildings within the Cortex seems to be entirely haphazard, with no detectable pattern or scheme aiming to increase the efficiency of the complex's more recognisable processes, and that their architectural styles are wildly inconsistent, with unsightly, utilitarian blocks steps away from complex arrangements of three-dimensional geometrical figures, entirely curvilinear towers and twisted shapes founded on strangely concave angles.

Near the centre of the Cortex, at a short distance from the power plant, there gapes the mouth of a vast sinkhole, the bottom of which would be invisible even if a strong projector light were to be shined into it. From its sides, a number of tunnels branch off into parallel wells and mine shafts, at least one of which reaches deeper than the original cavity, as well as a few systems of subterranean caverns, some of them as vast as the Cortex itself. The sinkhole, known as the Axial Conduit, is the main focus of the complex's inhabitants, the custodian drones calling themselves the Manifold Sight.

The Sight as a group is rather difficult to define in a manner accessible to human knowledge. In basic terms, it is a set of beings who, although capable of functioning optimally separately from one another, become capable of accessing new, extended abilities only when closely cooperating. Another crucial observation would be that several of their core functions are essentially useless unless employed in conjunction with those of the others, rendering the relationship between them similar to a hypothetic instance of endo-organismal adapted symbiosis and reinforcing the supposition that they might have been created or modified (possibly by themselves) to operate as a collective.

The exact nature of the individual entities forming the Sight is unclear. The fact they can directly act through numerous unintelligent, non-living physical bodies or conduits at once (unconfirmed in the case of Dweller) would seem to suggest they might be some form of intelligence designed to be capable of employing various unusual mediums as hardware bases. However, there are several factors opposing such a theory, chief among them the fact that the guises controlled by each entity at any given time do not emit or receive any sort of signal directed at each other, indicating that they cannot be virtually connected by conventional means; additionally, they are only able to interface with each other if at least one (or a section) of their physical forms is located at a specialised terminal, referred to as Nexus, of which there exist several throughout the Cortex and the subterranean network below, alongside a section of their communication's intended recipient. The apparent absence of anything that may resemble a personality or individual psychological profile in any of the beings, and the fundamentally mechanical nature of their actions ad cognitive processes, might contest the theory that they are sapient, or even sentient individuals, and instead support the view that they are extremely complex, but comparatively unsophisticated constructs; yet this would fail to take into account such things as the Sight's remarkable abilities of unprompted innovation and the lack of regular patterns in its overall activity. Altogether, all that is truly known of these beings is that they are clearly artificial in origin, are capable of advanced cognitive, evaluative, strategic and creative mental activity and do not exist as material entities, instead coordinating the actions and properties of distinct bodies created by themselves.

The most visible of the Manifold Sight's components is Watcher, whose main activity is constructing mechanical drones out of the strangely resilient crystalline formations which abound in the mines around the Axial Conduit and putting them to use patrolling the Cortex and maintaining its few active installations, mining materials for further drones and operating the machinery to assemble them, as well as interacting with outside influences. The drones are typically uniform in shape, having a vaguely triangular body (with the figure being positioned horizontally, the hypotenuse directed towards the ground) supported by seven segmented limbs and possessing an array of antenna-like organs of perception at the front. They can, however, be distinguished by the colour of the crystal variety they are built of (which may be either translucent white, opaque violet or a combination of the two) and their size, which varies depending on their function (smaller maintenance drones can reach a minimum of twenty centimetres, while conveyor or combat drones may be as large as five metres). Specialised drones may possess hybrid features, as mentioned below.

Seeker appears to fulfil the role of main information gatherer within the Sight. It does not possess solid physical bodies like Watcher, but rather propagates its consciousness through an artificially designed noble, gas, mildly toxic to most life-forms, being present wherever a sufficiently large mass of it is gathered. Projecting itself through the gas enables Seeker to perceive its immediate surroundings down to their molecular components, as well as detect vibrations, light and temperature fluctuations. The major disadvantage of this conduit is that Seeker cannot actively control its "body" and must rely on other agents, typically Watcher's drones, to move independently of environment factors. Specialised drone models exist that exploit the gas's refractive nature to improve their visual perception, or are capable of releasing it around themselves.

Sentinel is the Sight's equivalent of a weapon, in the broadest sense of the word. Its material presence is represented by webs of fibrous, rubbery biosynthetic material, interspersed with bulbous cartilaginous clumps, typically found in mounds of viscous ooze scattered throughout the Cortex and its nether regions. However, those are not so much its actual conduit as a form of infrastructure necessary for the latter. Sentinel's consciousness is effectively contained in sequences of chemio-electric luminous impulses coursing through the organic constructs, which function somewhat similarly to a neural system, albeit without synapses. If necessary, Sentinel can project itself outside the webs in the form of potent discharges, which can inflict electric shock and considerable blunt physical trauma even at comparatively large distances, or generate temporary static fields which hamper the motion of physical objects and the propagation of energy. Thus, drones designed for combat by Watcher have Sentinel projector webs embedded in their bodies.

The last member of the Sight, Dweller, remains largely an enigma. Its primary function seems to be preserving an artificial ecosystem situated in the deepest caverns below the Axial Conduit, which apparently simulates conditions akin to those present on an Earth-like world during relatively early stages of the evolution of organic life (comparable to the early Terreneuvian series on Earth). The ecosystem is entirely aquatic, with several submerged chambers being maintained at more or less evenly warm temperature; complex algae are abundant within it, as are pluricellular invertebrate animals of various sorts. Dweller has been known to experiment on the life forms it breeds in subterranean laboratories, afterwards releasing the specimen onto Ezra's surface to test their resilience (none has survived for long thus far) or handing them to Watcher for hybridisation with drones or conduits. It is unknown what Dweller's own physical medium is, but, on the basis of its activities, it can be presumed it is organic, perhaps animal- or plant-like in composition.

The Grand Enigma of 82 Eridani - One star system, infinite possibilities [Looking for Humans to get the show on the road!]

Apologies for the delay; some unexpected circumstances slowed my progress for a few hours. By any means, here is my application.

The Manifold Sight

Name: The Manifold Sight (also referred to as Manifold Eye or, more rarely, Manifold Gaze).

Type: Consociation of semi-interdependent artificial entities.

Description:

Among the innumerable structures in various stages of decay covering the surface of Ezra, few are as baffling as regards their design and original purpose as one particular complex located in what appears to once have been an industrial district, at a roughly equal distance from the world's northern tropic and pole. This installation, known to its inhabitants as the Cortex, consists of a small fission power plant, regularly supplied and maintained in a functional state, a large number of empty warehouses, several production facilities, most of them inactive, and a number of buildings whose intended function is unidentifiable, having elaborate, sometimes labyrinthine internal structures and containing features and instruments outlandish even by the standards of 82 Eridani's almost omnipresent cryptic ruins. What is especially remarkable is that the placement of buildings within the Cortex seems to be entirely haphazard, with no detectable pattern or scheme aiming to increase the efficiency of the complex's more recognisable processes, and that their architectural styles are wildly inconsistent, with unsightly, utilitarian blocks steps away from complex arrangements of three-dimensional geometrical figures, entirely curvilinear towers and twisted shapes founded on strangely concave angles.

Near the centre of the Cortex, at a short distance from the power plant, there gapes the mouth of a vast sinkhole, the bottom of which would be invisible even if a strong projector light were to be shined into it. From its sides, a number of tunnels branch off into parallel wells and mine shafts, at least one of which reaches deeper than the original cavity, as well as a few systems of subterranean caverns, some of them as vast as the Cortex itself. The sinkhole, known as the Axial Conduit, is the main focus of the complex's inhabitants, the custodian drones calling themselves the Manifold Sight.

The Sight as a group is rather difficult to define in a manner accessible to human knowledge. In basic terms, it is a set of beings who, although capable of functioning optimally separately from one another, become capable of accessing new, extended abilities only when closely cooperating. Another crucial observation would be that several of their core functions are essentially useless unless employed in conjunction with those of the others, rendering the relationship between them similar to a hypothetic instance of endo-organismal adapted symbiosis and reinforcing the supposition that they might have been created or modified (possibly by themselves) to operate as a collective.

The exact nature of the individual entities forming the Sight is unclear. The fact they can directly act through numerous unintelligent, non-living physical bodies or conduits at once (unconfirmed in the case of Dweller) would seem to suggest they might be some form of intelligence designed to be capable of employing various unusual mediums as hardware bases. However, there are several factors opposing such a theory, chief among them the fact that the guises controlled by each entity at any given time do not emit or receive any sort of signal directed at each other, indicating that they cannot be virtually connected by conventional means; additionally, they are only able to interface with each other if at least one (or a section) of their physical forms is located at a specialised terminal, referred to as Nexus, of which there exist several throughout the Cortex and the subterranean network below, alongside a section of their communication's intended recipient. The apparent absence of anything that may resemble a personality or individual psychological profile in any of the beings, and the fundamentally mechanical nature of their actions ad cognitive processes, might contest the theory that they are sapient, or even sentient individuals, and instead support the view that they are extremely complex, but comparatively unsophisticated constructs; yet this would fail to take into account such things as the Sight's remarkable abilities of unprompted innovation and the lack of regular patterns in its overall activity. Altogether, all that is truly known of these beings is that they are clearly artificial in origin, are capable of advanced cognitive, evaluative, strategic and creative mental activity and do not exist as material entities, instead coordinating the actions and properties of distinct bodies created by themselves.

The most visible of the Manifold Sight's components is Watcher, whose main activity is constructing mechanical drones out of the strangely resilient crystalline formations which abound in the mines around the Axial Conduit and putting them to use patrolling the Cortex and maintaining its few active installations, mining materials for further drones and operating the machinery to assemble them, as well as interacting with outside influences. The drones are typically uniform in shape, having a vaguely triangular body (with the figure being positioned horizontally, the hypotenuse directed towards the ground) supported by seven segmented limbs and possessing an array of antenna-like organs of perception at the front. They can, however, be distinguished by the colour of the crystal variety they are built of (which may be either translucent white, opaque violet or a combination of the two) and their size, which varies depending on their function (smaller maintenance drones can reach a minimum of twenty centimetres, while conveyor or combat drones may be as large as five metres). Specialised drones may possess hybrid features, as mentioned below.

Seeker appears to fulfil the role of main information gatherer within the Sight. It does not possess solid physical bodies like Watcher, but rather propagates its consciousness through an artificially designed noble, gas, mildly toxic to most life-forms, being present wherever a sufficiently large mass of it is gathered. Projecting itself through the gas enables Seeker to perceive its immediate surroundings down to their molecular components, as well as detect vibrations, light and temperature fluctuations. The major disadvantage of this conduit is that Seeker cannot actively control its "body" and must rely on other agents, typically Watcher's drones, to move independently of environment factors. Specialised drone models exist that exploit the gas's refractive nature to improve their visual perception, or are capable of releasing it around themselves.

Sentinel is the Sight's equivalent of a weapon, in the broadest sense of the word. Its material presence is represented by webs of fibrous, rubbery biosynthetic material, interspersed with bulbous cartilaginous clumps, typically found in mounds of viscous ooze scattered throughout the Cortex and its nether regions. However, those are not so much its actual conduit as a form of infrastructure necessary for the latter. Sentinel's consciousness is effectively contained in sequences of chemio-electric luminous impulses coursing through the organic constructs, which function somewhat similarly to a neural system, albeit without synapses. If necessary, Sentinel can project itself outside the webs in the form of potent discharges, which can inflict electric shock and considerable blunt physical trauma even at comparatively large distances, or generate temporary static fields which hamper the motion of physical objects and the propagation of energy. Thus, drones designed for combat by Watcher have Sentinel projector webs embedded in their bodies.

The last member of the Sight, Dweller, remains largely an enigma. Its primary function seems to be preserving an artificial ecosystem situated in the deepest caverns below the Axial Conduit, which apparently simulates conditions akin to those present on an Earth-like world during relatively early stages of the evolution of organic life (comparable to the early Terreneuvian series on Earth). The ecosystem is entirely aquatic, with several submerged chambers being maintained at more or less evenly warm temperature; complex algae are abundant within it, as are pluricellular invertebrate animals of various sorts. Dweller has been known to experiment on the life forms it breeds in subterranean laboratories, afterwards releasing the specimen onto Ezra's surface to test their resilience (none has survived for long thus far) or handing them to Watcher for hybridisation with drones or conduits. It is unknown what Dweller's own physical medium is, but, on the basis of its activities, it can be presumed it is organic, perhaps animal- or plant-like in composition.

The Grand Enigma of 82 Eridani - One star system, infinite possibilities [Looking for Humans to get the show on the road!]

Excellent. I shall, then, have a complete sheet ready by tomorrow evening at the latest.

The Grand Enigma of 82 Eridani - One star system, infinite possibilities [Looking for Humans to get the show on the road!]

@Arawak
With the new world details, it would seem that Ezra is indeed the most appropriate location for what I have in mind. Would it be reasonable for a custodian base on it to contain a small subterranean artificial ecosystem (a primordial, extremely rudimentary one - say mid-Cambrian or thereabouts in terms of Earth equivalents)?

On a related note, should custodian drones have a definable purpose, or can their intent be something completely esoteric, known only to their vanished creators?

The Grand Enigma of 82 Eridani - One star system, infinite possibilities [Looking for Humans to get the show on the road!]

@Arawak
The recent additions do add a fair bit of clarification, and the leeway for surreal ideas is certainly a strong incentive for me to join. Although I am unfortunately unable to submit a complete application at the moment due to network limitations, I can briefly describe the concept I have thought up.

It consists of a super-entity of sorts, composed of various beings with specialised functions partially dependent on each other to operate optimally (somewhat similarly to a symbiotic relationship, but only crudely describable in terms of one). I have no definite ideas as concerns their location, but, seeing as I intend on them to be heavily reliant on minerals (chiefly crystalline, perhaps partly organic) either Ezra or the depths of Solomon would seem plausible.

Legend of the Silver Legion (A Fantasy RP)

The Balespire, Fell Lands

Heavy, rhythmic blows of metal upon metal resounded as Vrathar ascended the spiral staircase leading to the pinnacle of the dark tower that grimly dominated the greater of the Isles of Sorrow. In the featureless, perfectly smooth walls around him there was not a single window to allow the bleak sunlight of the Fell Lands to filter into it. Instead, what luminescence there was came from the torches placed along them at regular intervals, their writhing flames inexplicably casting grotesquely distorted dancing shadows upon the steps of cold black steel. While one could never grow accustomed to climbing the Balespire, it was said that, after one had trodden its stairs enough times, the rise would appear to them progressively less long and laborious, and the shadows less sinister (though, curiously, no mention was ever made of the descent). Vrathar himself had, unfortunately, no means of verifying whether this impression was truly common to all, nor did he expect to achieve this anytime soon; indeed, he had, until recently, not expected to reach the top of the spire, where none of the Ironbound were permitted save for the Fell Lords, within two or three decades at the very least.

The battle had wrought more damage than he had first imagined as he had taken flight from the field. When what remained of the army had regrouped at one of the inner garrison holds, it was discovered that not only had a noticeable dent been put in the numberless rank and file, but all of Vorthal's retinue had been destroyed, with the sole exception of those who had retreated at his command. This had staggered the hierarchy of the Ironbound, not in the least because, since time immemorial, there had never been either less or more than ten Fell Lords at one time, and Vorthal's unexpected demise had disrupted any designs of succession the Overlord and his advisers might have prepared. It was thus much to everyone's surprise that Vrathar had been found to be the only suitable replacement. His age was certainly not such to rival even the least of those who held council in the Dread Keep, or even certain overseers in the Lands without; yet all of those were under someone's direct command, and, by unspoken law, to remove them thence and place them into new authority was not meet. In the dim hall of the Umbral Throne, he had been named Fell Lord, and the suzerain had etched the angular symbol of dominion upon his armour with his great blade of steel and obsidian.

Not less astonishing had been the resolution the Overlord had voiced afterwards. In the penumbral gloom of the stairway, Vrathar recalled the words that had been uttered mere days before:

"Out of the Fell Lands?" one of the Lords, his form indistinct in the shadowed corner he stood in, with only a few jagged edges visible in the shifting spots of light emanating from the nearest brazier, had asked, with a seeming impassiveness which would have struck a creature of flesh as unnatural - as indeed it was - considering the gravity of the matter he was inquiring about, "Would this not entail abandoning the relics of Memory to be desecrated and perverted by these invaders? Abandoning our ancestral duty itself?" The others said nothing, but from the slight nodding motions of certain among them it was clear they silently assented.

"It might be." came the low, echoing tones from the black dais, and Vrathar felt a shade of indistinct, nameless dread flit over his mind as Rahkerroth's burning gaze briefly passed over him as the fearsome horned helm turned towards towards the one who had spoken, "Yet think what good it would be if we remained. Think of this "legion". Only Vorthal could hinder it to at significant extent, and it was but two hundred strong. This could be less than a vanguard. If even we drove all our thralls in arms against the East, what would it avail if there were thousands more of those beings marching against us? The only manner for us to fulfil our duty would be to trust in the Ancients' foresight and hidden measures in our last instants. To do as you say would needlessly imperil what we are sworn to preserve as well as ourselves. Yet..." his ember-like eyes left the corner and slowly, deliberately shifted towards the darkness gathered beneath the vaulted ceiling, "If we gather all the might of the Fell Host and strike for the West... for Kahlor Marax... and finish what we began twenty years ago... If the Elder Gods shall return among us, all such concerns shall become meaningless."

With a surprisingly agile motion, the Overlord rose from his seat, draping his tattered cloak over his shoulder with a smooth motion of his clawed gauntlet. "But we shall not go alone. No, the land itself shall march with us..."

Were even the Ironbound not universally disinclined towards figurative speech, it would have been clear the Overlord's remark had been to the utmost literal. As the eldest of them, he was the most familiar with the esoteric rites and incantations gathered in the sinister, forlorn ruins in the north and stored in the vaults and dungeons of the Balespire, and surely knew that, through their occult potency, things could be achieved which fleshling brains could not conceive even in the direst extremes of their delirious visions, which they called “nightmares”. The summons to converge at the pinnacle, where, by tradition, the most portentous of evocations were performed, confirmed in Vrathar’s mind that, in one manner or the other, the land would truly be made to march if the Overlord willed it.

Finally, the stairway came to an end, and Vrathar stepped onto the wide circular platform that was, perhaps, the highest point in all the Fell Lands, save for the mountain peaks in the west. The others were already there: the imposing form of Rahkerroth seemed to cast a shadow over the nine Lords, eclectic in their shapes and armament, assembled near him, despite being only slightly taller than them. Somewhat to the side stood another figure, its body akin to that of an Ironbound and its head a hellish amalgam of metal and flame, the crackling of the inexhaustible conflagration alone breaking the stillness of the pale day. It That Consumes had come as well. Involuntarily edging towards the railings to avoid the fixed gaze of the aberration, Vrathar joined the Fell Lords, casting a glance towards the centre of the tower-top. There, a score of Riglir, bizarrely garbed in rags of cloth and mail with the apparent intent of emulating robes, stood in a circle, some fiddling with curious instruments such as bone flutes, drums of chimaera skin and brass cymbals, others strangely waving their forearms and rattling something with their mandibles. Seeing him approach, the Overlord inclined his head as in a nod, and, gesturing to the assembled Riglir, spoke a single word: “Begin.”

Immediately, the creatures began performing various odd motions, which they had apparently prepared and rehearsed. They grasped at the air with outstretched claws, chittered loudly and swayed to and fro; those who held an instrument began to blow or beat it, their initially discordant and cacophonic sounds gradually weaving themselves into a melodic, yet utterly unearthly rhythm, vaguely reminiscent of a tempestuous wind howling through caverns of jagged rock, bearing upon itself a host of moans, screams, lamentations and songs in unknown and unutterable languages. It was frightening and hypnotic; and anon, it grew in strength beyond what was imaginable for the squat creatures to produce. No, it was not the music; there truly was a wind. Many winds, roaring from all sides, swirling together in a vortex of dread and sorcery. The sky grew dark as a column of air, dust and black light encircled the tower, rising high over the sight of any present; within the circle of the frenzied celebrants, screeching and leaping madly in ritualistic ecstasy, there arose a wilderness of ebon flames, spinning and flaring, then stretching into a pillar to rival the whirlwind surrounding it. Bolts of crimson lightning arced from the flames and into the storm, the rising darkness rent by bloody glimmers visible from miles away; then, a thundering impact, a voice that could not be spoken uttering forbidden words and a glare which had no recognisable colour, and all was done.

Vrathar peered around himself. All seemed unchanged; the land nearby bore no trace of a storm of any sort, and certainly not the cataclysm he had beheld; in the distance, the dark waters of the lake could still be seen, and no dust hovered over them. He thought of what had transpired, yet the memory seemed to be growing vague and blurred, eluding him as sand flowing between his iron fingers. Yet it could not have been a mirage: there, among the crouching Riglir, there hung still a black wisp, no larger than the flame of a candle, and this shadow had not been there before… Yes, the shadow. Why was it that all around him seemed to be overcast with gloom, as though night were already not far from falling? Just then, one of the Riglir chittered, motioning upwards: “The charm is done. The Essence is here.”

Slowly, yet striving for all the speed their heavy frames would permit, the assembled Fell Lords turned their gaze to the sky. High above them, in the bleak, cloudless sky, there hovered something that could scarce be defined. It was not a cloud, or smoke, or a bank of fog; it was akin to all these things, and likewise to a wraith, a shadow, a void. Immensely vast and oppressively heavy, it moved slowly through the heavens, flowing as in rivers of liquid spirit and gathering in nimbi of incorporeal blackness. A voice like the subdued roaring of a blaze was heard from nearby as It That Consumes spoke: “The Essence of the earth. We called, and it came. Whitherever we shall go, the Fell Lands shall follow, and we shall be the heralds of ruin…”

A burst of chittering drew the attention of all back to the platform, and to the circle of Riglir, who were hopping and gesticulating in grotesque alarm. Between them, the black flame was growing anew. Yet it now was no longer a frame; it was a gaping wound, not in the air, but, for want of better words, in the fabric of the sky and the world itself. It gaped hungrily between blurred and frayed edges, the Riglir recoiling in fright before it; through it, a nightly sky, inexplicably yet unmistakeably alien in nature, could be glimpsed, replaced erratically with an inexplicable view of an expanse of sand. “What is this?” the Overlord rumbled, “The inscription did not speak of anything such!” “Do you not recall the tablet is broken?” It That Consumes replied, “The description of the incantation’s effects is incomplete. We knew it would summon the Essence, but not whether it would do anything else. You ought to have come prepared, as did I.” With these words, it grasped a heavy mace which had previously stood by its foot, and raised it as if poised to strike.

Anon, the rift appeared to grow stable in size, and soon in shape as well; then, in a single impossible moment, it vanished outright, and from it there stepped forth a horrendous creature, its chitinous hide and serrated fangs dripping with a foul ichor. Ironbound and Riglir alike stood motionless; never had any of them seen anything of that sort, not even those who had ventured in the lost and forgotten temples of the Ancients, where strange things were said to dwell. The horror remained unmoving as well, perhaps astounded by its transposition; but soon its four eyes flared up in ravenous ferocity, and with tremendous speed it leapt upon the nearest Riglir, eviscerating it with a swipe of its gnarled talons.

It That Consumes stepped forward, its flames crackling ominously, and swung its maul at the creature. The latter dodged the blow with an ease prodigious for something so large, and lunged at its foe. A small stream of smoke rose from its claw where it had touched the incandescent metal as it sharply withdrew it with a hiss, only to abruptly swerve about and hurl itself at another of the evokers. However, by then the Riglir had regained their bearings, and begun once again to chant in strange clicking intonations, rhythmically reaching up and swinging their pincer-like appendages at the sky. In its leap, the beast collided with what appeared to be a barrier of warped air, with veins of iridescent vapours slowly winging their way across the diaphanous surface. The creature swung to its left, then backwards, but all to no avail; surrounded by the shimmering force, it was trapped in a mystical circle, tenfold as tall as itself and to all appearances impregnable.

Motioning for the others to be silent, the Overlord ponderously approached the translucent prison and brought its helm close it, momentarily locking gazes with the misshapen head of the monstrosity within. Then, turning his back to it, he faced his lieutenants once more. “This is an omen.” came his voice, ever as grimly – or placidly – inflectionless as before, “First the one who stands in chains, now this entity. The Elder Gods have sent us signs, spurring us to be on our way. They know of our intent. We must not disappoint.” Indicating the mangled Riglir with a curt gesture, he commanded “Toss it this one, and prepare a receptacle for it. A harbinger of the Gods’ will shall not want for anything.” Stepping towards the parapet, he clutched it with an iron grip, letting the flames of his eyes wander away into the distance. “Soon, we march.”