Memory Fragment (Atlas of Worlds)

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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 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 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.