Destiny Grimoire: Places - Mars
"The wind wiped away our footprints. When the storm had passed, we found something shining beneath the sand..."
In the years since the Collapse, much of Mars has returned to the desolation that came before the Traveler. But buried beneath its surface are traces of the glimmering mega-cities that once sprawled across the planet, swallowed by dunes and Darkness.
Ghost Fragment: Mars
Dreams of Alpha Lupi
Life waits inside this world's bones. Your voice flows across the red rock and through the dead valleys, speaking in code and goads.
Ancient volcanoes swell, exploding at their peaks and splitting wide along their shoulders. Ash clouds blacken the starved air. A fossil ocean of ice softens and collapses. Geysers erupt, tall as mountains, throwing up steam and clouds.
Every moment matters. And from a great distance, in the midst of a thousand careful disasters, you watch the transformation with your own eyes.
The rose has blossomed.
"A great city is a place where man competes with the Gods." - Alton Bray, "Trials and Triumphs"
Under the shifting sands of Meridian Bay are the ruins of the magnificent Freehold, a testament to the glory of the Golden Age. Great secrets remain hidden in its crumbling towers.
Ghost Fragment: Meridian Bay
We want your grandchildren. Does that sound grim? Don't panic. We aren't talking about human babies, yours or anyone else's. We're talking about your inventions. The children of your mind. Come join us. Come to Clovis Bray and build the laboratory of your dreams. Anything you need. Demand it and it's yours. At Clovis Bray, we have a singular understanding of genius, and we appreciate how brilliant minds flourish when they enjoy total freedom. This is Freehold, the realm where the new and the best is born. This is where your brilliance, freed of budget constraints and managers, makes the universe dance. Clovis Bray is a nursery, a nursery to a million marvels. Your inventions belong to no one but you. Cherish them, praise them. Or tell them they aren't worthy and set them inside a deep dark drawer. But as every parent soon learns, children grow up. And every technology matures. At some point, your inventions are going to find mates. They'll join with other marvels and produce a new generation of offspring. Maybe you'll build a better reactor. Meanwhile, the genius in the lab next door devises an elegant way to fold machines into tiny spaces. Your device meets hers, and a fierce little reactor is born. Your children are yours forever. And we are happy to arrange for their grandchildren to prosper.