#falkberg

[falkberg]

The songs sung in far reaches of the High Wilderness tell of a people venturing into sunless skies, long before the fifth and fourth city fell. Those skyfarers of old are hidden away in darkness, wholy one with cold, harsh and timeless wastes between dying stars. On steam powered triremes they cross the void and they speak the language of elder beasts in their company. Few live to tell tales of these people, so far removed from the civilized world. Some seek them out, never to be seen again. But perhaps, some hope, they accept inquisitive minds among them.

[kleingeistfalkberg]

[falkberg]

As the Crescent Fortune ventures into the unknown, I am reminded of the olden days at the shores of Fallen London. 

Following the fires of distant lightships, one would dare the dark waves of the darkest ocean, seeking out its shadowy depths for closure, vengeance, and treasure. Think of the monstrous beast carrying an entire city on its back. How marvelous are its shining amber eyes, how mighty its gargantuan claws. If such wonders exist deep beneath the streets of our erstwhile world...how much greater must the secrets of the Sunless Skies be? 

Musing such thoughts of valiant anticipation and remembrance we may enjoy the view just a little bit longer before the cold encroaches onto the decks and we must huddle around the warmth of the engine’s boiler room. 

[falkberg]

The wondrous creatures of Sunless Skies are manifold, endlessly emerging in countless forms from the dark hazy clouds of the High Wilderness. Some are beasts, strong and primeval, others mysterious forces from beyond. But some, like the Mask of Tin’uc’il are something in-between. Possessed by forces of eldritch age, a beast has made its home in this magical artifact and fused in a sort of transference of life with the powers imbued in the curious relic. 

[falkberg]

[falkberg]

Among the illustrious Council of the Crescent Fortune is the well-versed and widely traveled skipper Jamballa of the aetherial lily gardens. This fellow skyfarer spent more years in the cold of the High Wilderness, studying closely whatever growth can bloom in the harsh vastness between empty stars and clockwork suns.  Aboard our skyward locomotive, he is an invaluable aid and guide through the aerial tides of the Sunless Skies!

[falkberg]

The crew of the Crescent Fortune is one of a kind.

Only the most valiant and perhaps reckless would follow a captain shooting for the stars in skies where the suns are mere cinders. Many friends of friends have come from the Soothsayer Asylum on this journey. So did our trusted Savant Mr. Conundrum, who is most knowledgeable in all kinds of tongues and languages of signs. To know what is to be known of the denizens of sunless skies, he has learned to speak in a certain curious manner, which no-one aboard really understands. Nevertheless, his words have brokered many a deal between the crew of our locomotive and natives on their levitating isles. And thus this peculiar man has proven all too valuable on adventures into the distant spheres! 

[falkberg]

As the steaming locomotive departs, an isle of exceptional nature is left behind. 

This the Soothsayer Asylum, port of call to some of the oddest creatures and entities and denizens of the Sunless Skies. It is a place where insanity and rational switch places every day, where dreams become reality and any sense of direction plunges into the unfathomable nature of the unconscious mind. 

Dwelling among these walls are volunteers and prisoners, those owing time and those repaying long lost deeds. But all answer to the call of the ringing bell, every day on midday, when the twinkling lantern rises high above the roof and the soothsayers visit their patients. 

They tell of the future and fortune, of things past and gone, coming and going at any time. Truth is the healing agent, they say, as their words put unruly subjects to sleep.