Description
A rhyton fired with copper as the base, that was once filled with fine wine from paradise.
Desc flavor
It was the age when the Legion Athanatoi stood at the ready, and wild poetry was sung upon the High Sea.
The glorious king established the golden imperial capital and stood astride the world as the Sebastos.
Wheresoever his great ships sailed, all polises bowed to his supreme authority,
Wheresoever the notes were sounded, the symphony of civilization supplanted savage songs.
All this to bring about justice and salvation,
All this the final delusion of the Sebastos, who could not bring himself to abandon the people.
"Your Empire shall fall amidst the roaring waves, for what fate has decreed cannot be changed."
"The hidden threads yet bind them, pulling them like puppets towards a torturously tragic end."
But the prophet's fell proclamation left the Sebastos not in despair, but rather ignited in him wild fantasies.
He locked himself in the depths of his imperial palace, searching for a flaw in the Master of Fortuna's Musica Mundana.
After countless days and innumerable nights, through the chords of the world, Remus grasped the mysteries of Fortuna.
He read every note of fate, and all he lacked was a pen with which to compose his own symphony.
Thus did the Sebastos resolve to appeal to Sybilla, for she came from the land of the dead, and the torrents of fate once coursed through her veins.
Despite the extremity of his demands, the self-less prophet responded to his wishes as she always did, without even the slightest hesitation.
The harmonious symphony played from the throne would break the fetters fate had shackled the people with, painting for them new paths and writing new melodies for them.
Beneath the golden dome, pure and holy Ichor spilled forth along auric aqueducts, and the tremors within the golden palace would spread to every corner of the empire.
And in the wildest fantasies of the Sebastos, at the grand finale of the harmonious opera, he would hand fate's baton into humanity's own hands.
When that day came, rich or poor, sage or savage, every free person would control their own destinies.
Amidst the rising, raging waves, the blinded king rushed towards an unknown end, for in Sybilla's eyes, there was already no future...
The glorious king established the golden imperial capital and stood astride the world as the Sebastos.
Wheresoever his great ships sailed, all polises bowed to his supreme authority,
Wheresoever the notes were sounded, the symphony of civilization supplanted savage songs.
All this to bring about justice and salvation,
All this the final delusion of the Sebastos, who could not bring himself to abandon the people.
"Your Empire shall fall amidst the roaring waves, for what fate has decreed cannot be changed."
"The hidden threads yet bind them, pulling them like puppets towards a torturously tragic end."
But the prophet's fell proclamation left the Sebastos not in despair, but rather ignited in him wild fantasies.
He locked himself in the depths of his imperial palace, searching for a flaw in the Master of Fortuna's Musica Mundana.
After countless days and innumerable nights, through the chords of the world, Remus grasped the mysteries of Fortuna.
He read every note of fate, and all he lacked was a pen with which to compose his own symphony.
Thus did the Sebastos resolve to appeal to Sybilla, for she came from the land of the dead, and the torrents of fate once coursed through her veins.
Despite the extremity of his demands, the self-less prophet responded to his wishes as she always did, without even the slightest hesitation.
The harmonious symphony played from the throne would break the fetters fate had shackled the people with, painting for them new paths and writing new melodies for them.
Beneath the golden dome, pure and holy Ichor spilled forth along auric aqueducts, and the tremors within the golden palace would spread to every corner of the empire.
And in the wildest fantasies of the Sebastos, at the grand finale of the harmonious opera, he would hand fate's baton into humanity's own hands.
When that day came, rich or poor, sage or savage, every free person would control their own destinies.
Amidst the rising, raging waves, the blinded king rushed towards an unknown end, for in Sybilla's eyes, there was already no future...
Artifact set
Fragment of Harmonic Whimsy
Term artifacttype
Goblet of Eonothem