"Some call it 'the Realm of the Builders' - the Ark refers to it as 'Dius Factorsitius Terravae' or 'The Forge of Worlds.' My opinion? Well, I think it's more of a garden, to be honest."
-Author Dreu, van Heinhelm Household Cleric
A soul that feels no remorse for the sins it has committed in life is unfit for paradise in the afterlife. Only those who fully grasp the weight of the harm they have visited upon others and repent are offered a chance at atonement. Only those who atone for their sins are allowed to move on.
-- The Book of Reprieve, 11:36:01
The Box is a Hell of isolation, claustrophobia and imprisonment. Where you will find many who fear tight spaces.
The 5757h layer of the Infinite Abyss. A land of charred black metal and the stench of ever-burning flesh.
It was three years ago that I entered that strange door… and I have not found my way back home since then.
For those familiar with cantrips, you know they are minor acts of magic that have hardly any noticable effect on the world. For example a cantrip to make your food taste better won't heal you any more, or be any more nourishing, just won't make it so hard to get it down. A light cantrip certainly won't be able to blind or even distract anybody, but you might be able flash it to signal someone looking at the right spot.
What if children's nusery ryhmes were a form of cantrip? Like the "Rain, Rain, go away, come again another day." One child singing it wouldn't do more than spare her house a couple raindrops, but what if the whole village got together and was chanting in unison? Each one doing just a bit might actually be able to divert a whole storm...