Vintage Story Wiki
Faulkner’s Musings (BR)
Lore section: faulknersmusings
betterruins:faulknersmusings
· from betterruins
Journal notes from Grand Architect Faulkner during the quarantine.
Found in structures (1)
bookshelf: a lore bookshelf for this section; placed: this exact book sits in a container or on the ground; random loot: a loot roll in the structure can produce it. Read from the structure's schematics, so it shows where the game can put it, not a drop chance.
| Structure | Kind | How it is found |
|---|---|---|
| thepanopticon | storystructure | placed |
Text
What an ambitious project I have been saddled with.
A system of canals that connect this place to the rest of the world.
The task is simple, in essence. Digging canals is simple. But to dig so many is ambitious. Can’t all ambitious tasks be broken down into dozens upon dozens of simple ones?
Either way, I continue to amaze myself with the Svanmarck line’s ability to convince others to do their work for them. And I continue to be surprised that I’ve fallen for it again, too.
Really, I should not be complaining. Many hands make light work, and these Waterways would never have been possible if the surrounding settlements were not equally desperate for an aquatic route inland.
A system of canals that connect this place to the rest of the world.
The task is simple, in essence. Digging canals is simple. But to dig so many is ambitious. Can’t all ambitious tasks be broken down into dozens upon dozens of simple ones?
Either way, I continue to amaze myself with the Svanmarck line’s ability to convince others to do their work for them. And I continue to be surprised that I’ve fallen for it again, too.
Really, I should not be complaining. Many hands make light work, and these Waterways would never have been possible if the surrounding settlements were not equally desperate for an aquatic route inland.
Under any other circumstances, this would have been an impossible feat. But as expected, everything went swimmingly. Get it? Swimmingly? Because they’re canals full of water, and…
Nevermind that. The first stage of work is done, and now the second stage can begin. Our employers seemed very happy with our progress already.
Decisions have already been made by the Svanmarcks. We know how to proceed from here. The reservoir we have emptied will see metamorphosis into a true hub of commerce!
Even now it is sprawling with labourers, constructing walkways along the hollow’s edge, hewing what will become my office into rock and stone at its very bottom. It will be easier to sleep here than to travel daily. The workers look and act like ants, when viewed from above, and I their conductor.
Raw materials flow generously into the site from our suppliers, and calloused hands assemble them into walkways and scaffolds at unprecedented speeds. Never in my life have I seen a design of mine take shape so swiftly.
Nevermind that. The first stage of work is done, and now the second stage can begin. Our employers seemed very happy with our progress already.
Decisions have already been made by the Svanmarcks. We know how to proceed from here. The reservoir we have emptied will see metamorphosis into a true hub of commerce!
Even now it is sprawling with labourers, constructing walkways along the hollow’s edge, hewing what will become my office into rock and stone at its very bottom. It will be easier to sleep here than to travel daily. The workers look and act like ants, when viewed from above, and I their conductor.
Raw materials flow generously into the site from our suppliers, and calloused hands assemble them into walkways and scaffolds at unprecedented speeds. Never in my life have I seen a design of mine take shape so swiftly.
Thrice now has a labourer fallen to the plague. I wish I could still set my quill to parchment with as much enthusiasm as I had done before. I am not certain who introduced it here, nor am I certain it matters. They came from at least three different towns. If the Rot is in all of them already, then… Well. I am only certain that harm will come to the Svanmarcks if I allow its spread to continue unchecked here. So I’ll simply not allow it.
Hope and Isaiah. Those are the names of the two Blackguard soldiers aiding me in enforcing my quarantine. They were here separately, each to safely escort a merchant of luxuries, but have heroically forsaken their duties in order to fulfill the one I have given them. I have a lot of respect for them, for doing what is needed where no-one else will. And mostly I am grateful they are on my side!
Elewyn and Paige do not yet know of the nature of the quarantine, but I have informed Paige through the air vent that there is one in place. I feel shame for letting it get to this point… I do not think I can face the Svanmarcks. Not before this is over. Beyond an architect I am an alchemist. I have all the reagents here I would need to seek a cure. Until then no-one will leave or enter. They will understand. They will have to. I’ve forced all paths in and out of the canal junction to collapse, including the staircase to the estate’s toolshed. Now my precious Waterways have become a lazaretto.
Hope and Isaiah. Those are the names of the two Blackguard soldiers aiding me in enforcing my quarantine. They were here separately, each to safely escort a merchant of luxuries, but have heroically forsaken their duties in order to fulfill the one I have given them. I have a lot of respect for them, for doing what is needed where no-one else will. And mostly I am grateful they are on my side!
Elewyn and Paige do not yet know of the nature of the quarantine, but I have informed Paige through the air vent that there is one in place. I feel shame for letting it get to this point… I do not think I can face the Svanmarcks. Not before this is over. Beyond an architect I am an alchemist. I have all the reagents here I would need to seek a cure. Until then no-one will leave or enter. They will understand. They will have to. I’ve forced all paths in and out of the canal junction to collapse, including the staircase to the estate’s toolshed. Now my precious Waterways have become a lazaretto.
Believe me, please believe me, I had best intentions at heart. This forsaken reservoir was meant to become a grand marketplace of splendor. Now it is a cesspit of plague. I do not know what is going on on the surface, anymore. I am not sure I want to. But I hope that through our sacrifice the estate is free of Rot.
Rot that spreads not only through body but also through mind. Perhaps the detainees were affected thus, explaining their outbursts of rage and threats on my life. And I refuse to believe the twin jailors were always so cruel in turn. Do not misunderstand me. It was certainly an effective way to shut things down. But I would like to take back what I wrote earlier. I have no respect for the Blackguard anymore. Only reverence, and healthy fear.
I have felt watched as of late. Of course, all the quarantined look to me for a solution! It is my duty to deliver them a cure and their subsequent freedom, for I am the one that damned them to this fate. But the feeling of their hopeful eyes pleading me for aid does not leave me anymore. Even within the walls of my chambers I can still sense their gaze resting on me, from the moment I shut that door behind me. I can work like this no longer. I have thus forfeited my quarters to Hope and Isaiah at their request and withdrawn into an unfinished tunnel to continue my work in relative privacy, even with the little faith I possess in my own ability to outpace the black sick that has taken root in my bones.
Death would be a mercy for us now. I cannot envision anyone remaining in good health. Many have lost limbs. I can smell the necrosis below Isaiah’s armor. I had no idea just how bad things had gotten until I set foot inside the reservoir again, when I was escorted to my new worksite. Had I really spent so long locked away, only to make no progress at all, or had the disease simply spread at such a pace that I never stood a chance to begin with?
Gathering my resolve I will make my final attempts at synthesizing a cure. But I have made no progress from my starting point. None whatsoever. I must admit that in a moment of weakness I fashioned an ingested poison, and I pray that I will have the resolve to imbibe it now that I still possess the means.
Even the lowliest of architects have heard of the Panopticon. An experiment, a cruel design of prison, wherein a single person can see every single detainee all at once. But never until now had I considered the sheer quantity of eyes gazing back.
Rot that spreads not only through body but also through mind. Perhaps the detainees were affected thus, explaining their outbursts of rage and threats on my life. And I refuse to believe the twin jailors were always so cruel in turn. Do not misunderstand me. It was certainly an effective way to shut things down. But I would like to take back what I wrote earlier. I have no respect for the Blackguard anymore. Only reverence, and healthy fear.
I have felt watched as of late. Of course, all the quarantined look to me for a solution! It is my duty to deliver them a cure and their subsequent freedom, for I am the one that damned them to this fate. But the feeling of their hopeful eyes pleading me for aid does not leave me anymore. Even within the walls of my chambers I can still sense their gaze resting on me, from the moment I shut that door behind me. I can work like this no longer. I have thus forfeited my quarters to Hope and Isaiah at their request and withdrawn into an unfinished tunnel to continue my work in relative privacy, even with the little faith I possess in my own ability to outpace the black sick that has taken root in my bones.
Death would be a mercy for us now. I cannot envision anyone remaining in good health. Many have lost limbs. I can smell the necrosis below Isaiah’s armor. I had no idea just how bad things had gotten until I set foot inside the reservoir again, when I was escorted to my new worksite. Had I really spent so long locked away, only to make no progress at all, or had the disease simply spread at such a pace that I never stood a chance to begin with?
Gathering my resolve I will make my final attempts at synthesizing a cure. But I have made no progress from my starting point. None whatsoever. I must admit that in a moment of weakness I fashioned an ingested poison, and I pray that I will have the resolve to imbibe it now that I still possess the means.
Even the lowliest of architects have heard of the Panopticon. An experiment, a cruel design of prison, wherein a single person can see every single detainee all at once. But never until now had I considered the sheer quantity of eyes gazing back.