A city made of ice, in a chasm where sunlight is missing, that trades in one of the most unusual, but useful natural resources in the world.
Welcome to Jirix traveler. I hope you enjoy your very colorful stay.
What if interplanar travel was not as simple as a spell. What if it required the use of certain gates, which were not only hard to find, but difficult to access, and dangerous to use.
Sesna’s Volcano holds one such gate.
AutoMedon – A mechanical poet of renown not for his vast catalog of poetry, but for his complete lack of anything written or spoken, having had no output in his programmed profession. His creator is unknown or at least unaccredited, and there are those in great number in the artistic world who wonder and marvel at his inability to produce poetry, crediting that flaw to his creator who is unknown or at least un-credited. There is also a small faction of scholars who believe that when he finally, finally speaks, it will be the most beautiful or sorrowful verse ever spoke or will ever be spoken. Whether his creator is among either group or dead is unknown. AutoMedon sits alone under a tin roofed enclosure, upon a stone chair, with his gaze off in the distant as if thinking.
“It’s strange to look at this mechanical man and think what thoughts are working through its’ workings or even if the damn thing is” – Aralis of Qurim, poet and pottery salesman