Outsider Observation Report – Log 1

Author: Rosalind Frenrick

So. This organization called the Clockwork Apostles has asked me to record my thoughts about the Clockwork City? Apparently I'm the latest person to show up in about a hundred or some such years. I told them, "Wow, not a big tourist town huh?" They didn't really laugh at that one. Or any of the jokes I've told so far, if I'm being honest. But hey, rambling on about something I barely know about? Now that's something I can do.

They suggested I start with observations. Said that was the most "objective" viewpoint I could give. Huh, well, not really sure what they're getting at there, but I'm going to ignore that bit of advice because I think that I should start with myself. After all, who gives a skeevers arse about what I have to think if you don't know who I am? That's what I always thought, you know, reading stories.

Well, a little about myself. I'm your typical mage, I suppose, in how typical the ability to summon fireballs and teleport around is. Not particularly powerful or anything, which the Apostles sure were disappointed about, let me tell you. I get the feeling that they only care about folks who have a real hand at magic, or good with the contraptions they've cooked up here. I already know a few apostles who told me that they were simply very, very skilled at working the machines here, and that was sort of an in for them. Not that I really want to join a bunch of Dark Elves who worship Sotha Sil, mind you.

How did I end up here? Now, I'd really like to know that myself. See, I was apprenticed with a Telvanni mage just recently, an unconventional character who had a tough time keeping apprentices around. Now this mer, I'll tell you, real big Clockwork City aficionado. Really big on getting here too. I mean, talk about an obsession, he would just lecture us all nonstop about the "wonders of the omni-axle" and all that. Not that he really knew what exactly those wonders were, but hey, he knew they were here.

Long story short though, he wasn't wrong. And he would have gotten his wish, had I not been a beef-wit and stepped into the portal first. Well, I mean, more like tripped. I keep hoping he'll show up, but from what I could tell it was a one way trip? Something about the movements of the planes or something like that. Prime conditions that aren't likely to pop up again. Just my luck, that.

Now that I'm here though, well, not so sure my old boss would be particularly keen on this place. I mean first off, it's pretty much a wasteland. Smells like I'm trapped in a tin cup. Heck, everything is metal. The trees, the creatures, the people! They have metal limbs, and from what I can gather they just do it for some sort of fashion trend. Gives me goosebumps.

All right, my caretakers here are telling me I'm out of time. They're going to perform some more tests on me, I think. Take bits of my hair and spit for "analysis." I'm guessing they'll keep asking me to write down my thoughts though. Unless one of the factotums can read my mind? Huh. Wouldn't be surprised.

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