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=Memory of Grief=
=Memory of Grief=
::''They took my daughter... They took my daughter. They took her from my home and threatened her life. They threatened to kill her if I didn't tell them everything I knew. They meant it. I should have been more careful but I wasn't.''
::''Four of the High Templar's personal guard escorted my daughter into my lab. They demanded to see what I have seen... I knew they would call me a heretic... I've seen what they do to 'heretics' and their families. I had to save my baby girl.''
::''I watched them fall into dream, and I chose my moment to strike. I grabbed her hand and gripped it tight, and I threw the device into the ground, I watched it fracture into ten thousand golden pieces.''
::''I felt a tight grip on my shoulder, and I watched the world ripple like the surface of a pond disturbed by a stone. I was being pulled into the dream! and so was she! I let her go... I had to let her go. I felt my daughter's tiny fingers slip through mine... Gone... Gone...''
::''I saw nothingness swirling before my eyes. I saw the fabric of creation in its most primordial form. I felt the templars grip loosen and slip away. I lay there, in the emptiness between worlds, for an eternity.''
::''Then, for the first time in my life, I truly awoke.''


=Memory of Awakening=
=Memory of Awakening=


[[Category:Lore]]
[[Category:Lore]]

Revision as of 20:56, 12 September 2016

This article is a stub. Please help improve the article by expanding it.

The Memory Fragments are lore that can be found in maps and give background information of The Shaper. They have been added with the expansion Atlas of Worlds.

Memory of Home

The raids have become an almost nightly occurrence. The neighbourhood is changing. Septimus and his family have not been seen for a week, and I fear the rumours of the High Templar's secret trials and exiles may be true.
High Templar Venarius is far more puritanical than even Voll, and has been vigilantly tracking down and destroying important historical text and artifacts that he deems heretical. It seems as though he is also getting rid of those who, own such items.
He doesn't see that without history there is no progress. Or he just doesn't care. I'm not sure which is more dangerous. I can't in good conscience let important information simply vanish. I have a responsibility to my family and to the world to ensure that the boundaries of knowledge are pushed ever forward, no matter the risk.
As I left the academy this morning, bleary-eyed and sleepless, my daughter followed me again. I tucked her back in bed and kissed her goodbye. I worry about the world she will grow up in. There's a chance that I might survive living in exile, but she... She is still just a child. She needs me.
I will have to be careful.

Memory of Intrigue

Memory of Wonder

This golden device is truly incredible. There's so much to take in, so many minute details to examine, any one of which could unlock the device's mysteries. Intense thought and exhaustion seem to have got the better of me, for I am ashamed to say I must have dozed off and fallen asleep in my chair.
I do not normally remember my dreams, but this time they were so vibrant, so realistic. One moment I was walking in a verdant field of flowers whose aromas wafted sweetly through the warm air. The next I stood on a towering mountain peak, high above the clouds, harsh winds buffeting my back.
It all melded together, yet felt so real. I don't even remember walking, but I must have done. Since I clearly recall showing my daughter a map of Theopolis, while still trying to shake the events of the day out of my head.
Tonight, I fear, may be yet another restless night.

Memory of Dream

Memory of Nightmare

Are my dreams becoming reality? Or is my reality falling into a dream?
I found myself in a darkened room, and beyond the door came whispers of a long-dead language. Stumbling through, I discovered a chamber filled with bones - small, like those of children - placed around an altar caked with layer upon layer of dried blood. Their peculiar arrangement was one I know I've seen before, the kind that is only found in forbidden tomes of civilisations long lost.
As I neared, the echoing whispers grew louder and more desperate, threatening to engulf me entirely, so I fled, running blindly, my heart in my mouth. Before I knew it, I was outside, out of breath, and stumbling through vicious brambles.
Drenched in sweat, I finally returned to my workshop. My robes were shredded, my legs badly bloodied. This was real. I was there. I felt every thorn, every sharp stone. I felt the excruciating despair of every life cut short in that vile chamber. Oh, my sweet, sweet daughter, I pray to Innocence that you never have to witness the things I have seen.
Shortly afterwards, High Templar Venarius himself stormed in with his personal guard. His words were polite yet abrupt, his manner impatient. He pointed at the bloodied, balled-up robe sitting by my workbench, which I tried to explain away as a mere accident while working on a device. They departed, but the High Templar's displeasure was evident. Another worry to add to the pile.
The cuts on my legs were shallow, yet still they bleed even now so many hours later. My body may have escaped that ancient temple, but I fear it may have forever trapped a piece of my soul.

Memory of Grief

They took my daughter... They took my daughter. They took her from my home and threatened her life. They threatened to kill her if I didn't tell them everything I knew. They meant it. I should have been more careful but I wasn't.
Four of the High Templar's personal guard escorted my daughter into my lab. They demanded to see what I have seen... I knew they would call me a heretic... I've seen what they do to 'heretics' and their families. I had to save my baby girl.
I watched them fall into dream, and I chose my moment to strike. I grabbed her hand and gripped it tight, and I threw the device into the ground, I watched it fracture into ten thousand golden pieces.
I felt a tight grip on my shoulder, and I watched the world ripple like the surface of a pond disturbed by a stone. I was being pulled into the dream! and so was she! I let her go... I had to let her go. I felt my daughter's tiny fingers slip through mine... Gone... Gone...
I saw nothingness swirling before my eyes. I saw the fabric of creation in its most primordial form. I felt the templars grip loosen and slip away. I lay there, in the emptiness between worlds, for an eternity.
Then, for the first time in my life, I truly awoke.

Memory of Awakening