Artifacts: Echoes Bound in Hollow Things
These are not simple objects—they are vessels. Carved from bone, cast in silver, grown from roots no one can name. Each artifact carries the weight of something left behind: a purpose, a curse, a memory that clings to anyone foolish enough to reach for it.
Some were worshipped. Others were feared. All were altered by the hands—and fates—of those who claimed them. No artifact remains unchanged, and none remain silent forever. To possess one is to enter a conversation with the past, whether you wish to hear it or not.
"Aha! It blinked again!" She presses the mushroom close, its glow pulsing like a heartbeat.
"That’s… probably not good." The light shifts, flickering through shades no natural thing should hold. The air ripples faintly.
The goblin grins, wild-eyed. "So… what now? We eat it? Bury it? Name it?"
The past lives on—hidden in the dust.