Memory Fragment (Atlas of Worlds): Difference between revisions

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(Created page with "{{stub}} 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...")
 
>@DeletedUser41306579
(Created page with "{{stub}} 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...")
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Revision as of 11:14, 11 September 2016

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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

Memory of Intrigue

Memory of Wonder

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

Memory of Awakening