“ A world whose lands are made up of huge terrain spheres that rotate constantly with most portion underwater. As time passes, the shape of the bodies of water change, landmarks shift inside the new border lines, and mountains tilt to different degrees. Land dwellers are gypsies that can never build anything permanent, and somewhat ironically, the only stable settlements are large structures built at sea.”
“ This nocturnal creature resembles an over-sized bat, with the mouth of a star-nosed mole.
The Manabat can be as small as a normal bat, but can grow to a size larger than a human.
This creature is feared by wizards and other magic users, as it feeds of it victim's mana.
It will hide at day and hunt at night, swooping down on its prey, engulfing the magic user's face with its slimy tentacles, thereby sucking the mana from the victim. Depending on the size of the Manabat it can drain only a portion of the wizard's mana, which he will regain in a few hours, whereas the largest creatures will drain the wizard's mana permanently, rendering them ineffective as magic users.It will not harm them in any other way.
Manabats behave like normal bats and breeds in same way and numbers.
They can be tamed by a master trainer to attack on command.”
“ 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”
