Chalk & Roots

:: :: Here is a plane immaterial, an echo of our own, whose truths whisper along the ley lines of computer chips, bunching in unseen pockets, swirling in metal eddies of latent thought. Here, miniature worlds are created, where small amounts of energy concentrate, spawning forms of life and natural order which are ordinarily impossible.
:: :: This is the beginnings of such a world, vague in its edges: a primitive, impossible world in its infancy. I offer you only a small window into it, and you find yourself, whoever that may be, unarmed, in the beginnings of a dungeon, knowing only that your task has come to hand.