ALONE IN VAARN 4.1 day four

Image is Bronze Valley by Vera Dochich


Our Travelers:

Leif, a gigantic, white-haired true-kin. Escaped servitor. Wields a dyad rifle. Owns a singing crystal that wails in cryptic song.

Faulkner, “Faulk”, a golden-black new-ibis. Believes he is human. Refuses to wear a mask. Owns a nightmare box, of which he suspects nothing.


The Tale:

Faulk and Leif wake early. They slowly try to make their noiseless way out of the wreck of the Cynosura and exit without any trouble. No yurlings or despondent janitor-synths challenge them. When they finally crawl through a half-shut garbage disposal chute, they enter the dull peach light of morning. The worm pollen has kept falling and is now threatening to engulf the landscape.

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VAARN . table: trotons

Image by Jacob Marks


“An indistinguishable time ago, under the rule of the Titans, adamant followers and obedient automatons were crafted from the cybernated wombs of long-forgotten manufactories: single-minded servants of the once-living Titans. These manifold automatons were created to assert the incalculable will of their suzerains. Among them were the argent shepherds, the ego-engines of the Aurum Fleet, and lastly the Trotons, created upon directive from Iapetus, Titan of the auto-forge. Whereas the argent shepherds and Aurum Fleet are venerated because of the focus of their purpose, the Trotons are so prestigious because of the ubiquity of their use.”

-Bethor IV, Autarch of Sinopotamia


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