By Sarah Terman
It is said that when the bards tell of paradise, they are really only describing a pale reflection of Sunleth. Protected by strong walls and stronger wards, the fabled city is a place free from all the miseries and wants of the rest of the world. Sunleth’s perfection is made possible by the bountiful flow of magic from the Elpistone, a crystalline structure which is almost certainly the most prodigious font of magic in the world. The wealth of arcane power has enabled great advances, both in traditional thaumaturgy, and in the newer field of magitek, weaving the magical force into technological constructs. Between the two, no problem exists that the magical geniuses of Sunleth cannot brush away with a sweeping spell or a clever bit of gadgetry. The citizens of the city live in perfect contentment, every desire supplied at a moment’s notice.
All of that changed one fateful night, when the Elpistone abruptly ceased to produce magic. Now, suddenly, all the luxuries of Sunleth have vanished, and even necessary resources such as food and potable water are rapidly dwindling. The citizens are in a panic, and riots and looters are running rampant through the streets. A hasty conclave of the city’s leaders has been called to find some way to resolve the crisis. But darker fears lurk under the surface: even once peace and prosperity are restored, will the citizens ever trust the Elpistone again? Or will they always dwell in fear of another lapse, nurturing the seeds of further unrest? And what happened to the Elpistone in the first place?