Hanbalani Core

The Hanbalani Core is a relic recovered from the centre of a Hanbalani Atlas located near the Sister's Step, a tavern in the jungle of Tourmalini'i.

## Description

Held in place upon a central podium of a Hanbalani Atlas, a large prolate spheroid construction of varnished ceramic-like stone, the Hanbalani Core is approximately a foot from tip to base, holding the same shape as the building in which it was contained. While there is a mass to the relic, it is somewhere between a third and half of the expected weight for such a seemingly-dense object.

## Research

### Completed by Siebern Kuiper

*The marble-like exterior is smooth and cool to the touch, polished fine enough that the crystal glass-like composition catches and scatters any light falling upon it into brilliant rainbows - curiously however only the latter end of the spectrum, namely hues of greens, blues, purples. Within a cloud-filled azure skyline shifts and burls by its own rhythm, unaffected by the positioning, orientation or momentum placed upon it by external forces - be they mundane or magical. Despite its spherical shape, when placed upon a surface, regardless of the incline, it displays the innate talent and properties necessary to suspend itself upright until further adjustments are made.*

*Expectantly, you seek out flashes of memories and other fragments of places distant and past, for a number of artifacts thus far discovered seemed to share that trait - in truth the very construct in which the Core was recovered seemed to be a Well of sorts, and yet, silence. No profound visions, no gifts from the minds of those long well-fated or ill, just the continuous swirling of the landscape within carried upon currents of convection contained within. After a few days focusing on the object, you notice the growing presence of calmness in the room in which it is placed. An absence of chatter on the other side of the wall, the crackling of the heathfire or spitting of hot wax from lantern candles without noise. Curious, you scoop up a number of belongings sitting within the research chambers, casting them against the wall and floor - silence. You go to speak, finding no words. You step outside the room, closing the door behind you, breathing an audible sign of relief as the lock clicks with the turn of key.*

*Upon returning to the room later, the curiosities only grow. Items within the room, an aura of some ten feet or so have lost their ability to make any noise at all, but those introduced and promptly played, torn, shattered or cast against the cobbles do not. It is only with time spent in the room, attunement as such that prevents such a thing. Removal for a time and storage elsewhere seems to break the effect after a day or so, but whilst the core lingers, anything within its presence that has been nearby for more than a few minutes falls equally and disturbingly silent - but seems otherwise unchanged. After several days pass still, unexplained sounds start to echo from the room - alarmingly noteworthy certainly, given the previous silence - the clatter of a dropped quill, the breaking of a clay mug, the strum of a lute, eloquent and hesistant speech alike. Echoes and memories of the surrounding area, returning once more and broadcast by the core. In the rolling clouds you spy mimickry of your actions in deep investigation and research before your form fades into the obscure swirls once more. Two realisations creep upon you suddenly. The core seems capable of noting and transmitting information from its surroundings elsewhere not of this plane.  The second is the reality of how - the Core is undoubtedly made of a further refined form of the Wayfinder Stones, a form perfected to bind the Prime Material Plane to Dal Quor, the Realm of Dreams.*

*For what purpose remains to be seen.*

### Attempts to Attune by Brennus Coileain

*If Bren had to explain the process of attunement to a layman without knowledge of matters arcane, perhaps an analogue of such would come to mind. By now, the process of attuning to an object presented itself like a wardrobe filled with shoes new and old. Some presented little difficulty, like a pair of well-used boots. Hardy and a little uncomfortable initially, they quickly filled with a sense of familiarity. Other times it would be nearly joyful, satin-lined moccasins made with no expense spared by the Silk's Den, associated with a contentment and reassurance. Some few items were stubborn, almost with will of their own - leather poorly softened and thus too stiff, or objects too frequently passed from owner to owner, serving some purpose - save for the splits in the sole. Trying to attune to the Core was like trying to make meaningful footwear out of a flumph turned inside-out and filled with broken porcelain statuettes, iron fillings and an irrate canoloth. Maddening did not truly begin to describe the experience, and though theoretically possible, a process unpleasant and unsettling in equal immeasurable measure.*

*Shying away from the artifact, the darkness that consumed the light seems to follow inquisitively, casting a shadow across the investment into which the core was placed. A chill gnaws with ravenous hunger, tasting at the life-essence that crept towards it, before setting back into the Realm beyond once more.*