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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Dirigible" data-source="post: 956178" data-attributes="member: 12631">The Field of GearsFrom the Journal of Eddrick Baneren, priest of Makandor, Anno 571, Arc 4     ... Twelve days east of the Godshead's foothills, I came across a wide, desolate plain, stetching as far as the eye could see, littered with curious objects.     Scattered frequently across the waste, which I call the Field of Gears, were great wheels and cogs, seeming hewn from stone. The smallest I beheld was the size of a cottage, with each tooth of the cog the size of a menhir, and the largest I beheld, fifty miles within the perimeter of the Field, dwarfed any structure I could name, being over a mile in diameter. Many of these stone cogs were broken, smashed to barely recognizable rubble, missing teeth, or cleft so that the centre-hole of the gear was accessable. Indeed, some of them were occupied by creatures accustomed to the arid and desolate lands, as I found out to my near-fatal cost. To behold the entirity of the Field of Gears, it was as if some God had scattered the pieces of His celestial mechanism... perhaps this place is the site of one of the ancent Mage-Empires, and the stone cogs are some remnant of their hellish engines...     A few of the cogs leaned against each other or even fitted tooth to tooth, as if some monsterous miller had lsot the mechanism from his water-wheel. I found that some had apparently been moved recently, as demonstrated by the deep furrows and drag-marks even the oafish wayfinder Vowlas could follow.    When I did so, I saw to my astonishment that countless scores of stone cogs had been dragged away, all towards the greatest cog in the centre of the Field. There, a veritable army of giant-men, ogres, and creatures I could not even imagine the names of, all bearing the signs of allegiance to some fell group I knew not, assembled he cogs in vast scaffolds (where they acquired the wood I cannot say), lifting them with the aid of their brute strength and teams of animals.    My companions and I were forced to flee when a warparty of ettins discovered us. I admit, even now in the relitive safety of the White Stallion (do try the venison, should you stay here...), my heart is uneasy contemplating what the giant-kin could be planning to do with the vast mechanism they even now assemble...Nest : The town of Curstwall</blockquote>

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