Casting the Bones.
The Lysan Gorge was beautiful in the twilight. A river rushing quickly between two mountains, the slopes colored orange by the grass, punctuated with purple flowers in seemingly random clusters. She sat, quietly, on a wraithbone platform set in the middle of the river. The river was deep here. Deep enough to allow the light of the Infinity Circuit of the Craftworld to make the water glow a dull green. In front of her was a bowl, and in that bowl was a series of knucklebones. Each bone used to be in the hand of a skilled Seer, and this morning, they spoke to her with a loud, if somewhat unclear voice. She took a big, deep breath, closing her eyes like she could make the message of the knucklebones go away just by not looking at them. She tilted her head back, opening her eyes to look up at the sky. The morning light and serene blue sky was marred by a spider’s web of cracks across the surface of the dome that protected them from the ravages of space. The cracks had not made th...