Northwest_Unrest Opening

Peer behind the shroud - with the celestial dispatch! (cue sick music)

Subscribe to the missives of the high council, as intercepted, decoded and sometimes hand transcribed from memory, for those who are privy to their collegial discussions.

In this epoch of high wizard the world is yet coalescing (as it is always) but strange (no it's always strange) that is to say auspicious events are being revealed as trajectories in larger cycles achieving stability in the cosmic backdrop of the realms, like an old ladder jammed between into a ceiling beam... remaining in place as no one is quite sure that removing it wouldn't collapse several surreal systems back into singularity.

A myth mapper of petty rank but moderate ability has recently submitted the following excerpt from a high council meeting into which they were called as time-witness testimony to an apocalyptic sequence of gordian typography; your typical hyper resource extractive technological expansion accelerated doom sequence. The excerpt begins:

"In the long wasted lands of a collapsed civilization the iconic reifies the perpetual. Hard luck and sharp eyed ranger types are pinnacle of any young kids ambition, someone that always has a bit of edge over their competition in the world with limited resources and lesser compassion. The cowboy now rides a fatty tire gravel bike, low slung saddlebags of reclaimed sailcloth carrying his bedroll, flares, rope and solar cells. Ammo belts cross shoulders, gun rests at hip, but never far from the twitchy brake hand as he navigated paths between detritus downhill towards a traders settlement. On a pronounced lip of a hillside, that juts forth with old rusted mechanisms, he pauses to scan further afield. The post doesn't look unusual, and the skies have a few distant dots moving slowly. Airship patrols.

His scope lingers long on those in the sky, a few colors are recognized, allies or at least currently dependable enemies until the next drought and famine.

A strange though comes into the mans mind, the thought of a boy that once dreamed of captaining a ship, flying among the clouds.

"What does the captain in an airship look up towards - what worlds escape his vision that he would die twice over to reach?"

The High Council or one its more esoteric members seems to be pursuing an investigation into this realm, as an irascible figure long due reprimand and heeling by said Council seems to be embroiled in an ongoing conflict of that region. Any further discussion, material, ephemera, physibles, and digibles will be further catalogued HEADING:
"NORTHWEST UNREST".

Keep your crystals attuned for openness and receptivity. The myths walk first in minds before they step foot on shifting sands, in the deserts of later day America.