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Miles from The Neon Pavilion dwells the dross of civilization, six thousand sixty smoke pipes tower over warehouses converted into homes. Cimmerian purple skies burn behind soot clouds, while a labyrinth of ash filled streets line the City of Sindred.
Humanoids lay about certain avenues, mostly unconscious, wasting their time watching the smoking factories that supply power to richer cities. The Neon Pavilion abounds with lights and music, but that doesn't mean it's less polluted there. Chemicals linger around every metal street, natural light is uncommon, and the city's nine miles high.
The Oceans have gotten much larger due to Global Warming, and an Ice Age was about to start, but the amount of heat from factories even stopped that. In The Writhing Tower lives Satonica, richest being on Earth.
Satonica is in charge of the factories, most of the media, most of the food industry and, because of his place in the world, even holds Governmental power. His main company, the one in
Tongues of Angels muttered through the zephyr winds, sounds unheard by mortals. Only the creators and legislators of the Universe can live in Caelum Terrae. However, one mortal, set as a blacksmith in a small town named Virguel, looked up at the cosmic dusts and warped shadows of nebulae, and decided he would challenge them.
Faber Parva, or so is the name of our blacksmith, was often taken for granted, and had little to no recognition. He walked through the cobbled roads looking for an opportunity to sell some of his wares, or buy something for an overly discounted price, daydreaming all the while. Skeletal shadows loomed through the streets, cast by the clay clock towers and cathedrals. Doves flew overhead covered in rusted orange light and shining dust particles.
If you were to stand on the tallest clock tower, you would observe many spires scattered around the valley surrounding Virguel. These spires each have a staircase, and at the top is supposedly
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