I found one. A real piece of the Metal Sky.
It was in the wreckage of an old dwarven trade vault, half-collapsed and buried under stone. Looked like nothing at first, just another chunk of warped bronze with that weird blue sheen. But it hummed when I picked it up. Felt like vibrations right under my skin, like my bones wanted to shift away
It’s heavy, but not like steel. Balanced, perfectly designed to perform the task it was made to do. Whatever that is. The blue feels endless like the sky itself, which makes sense as, as far as we know thats exactly what it is. You stare at it too long, and you start to feel light like you could drift away. I never let myself focus for long, I fear I might leave my physical form behind.
Everyone’s heard of these things. The dwarves and the mage conclaves built them in the old days, when collaboration meant pushing the world until it pushed back. The sky itself, real sky, as if it was an element and not a concept, was hauled down with rites and anchors. They forged it like any mundane metal, like it was no trouble at all. Purpose-built with runes and fire and everything we’ve forgotten how to do.
I found one. A real piece of the Metal Sky.
It was in the wreckage of an old dwarven trade vault, half-collapsed and buried under stone. Looked like nothing at first, just another chunk of warped bronze with that weird blue sheen. But it hummed when I picked it up. Felt like vibrations right under my skin, like my bones wanted to shift away
It’s heavy, but not like steel. Balanced, perfectly designed to perform the task it was made to do. Whatever that is. The blue feels endless like the sky itself, which makes sense as, as far as we know thats exactly what it is. You stare at it too long, and you start to feel light like you could drift away. I never let myself focus for long, I fear I might leave my physical form behind.
Everyone’s heard of these things. The dwarves and the mage conclaves built them in the old days, when collaboration meant pushing the world until it pushed back. The sky itself, real sky, as if it was an element and not a concept, was hauled down with rites and anchors. They forged it like any mundane metal, like it was no trouble at all. Purpose-built with runes and fire and everything we’ve forgotten how to do.
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