Clockmaker Ascendant

Spoiler!

This day have I set quill to parchment to record certain observations concerning that peculiar faculty which Master Ghaelen hath named Insight.

Though I cannot yet say whether Insight be a substance, a force, or merely a property of the mind, I have observed that it groweth through the contemplation of temporal phenomena and the study of those devices left behind by Jonas and his followers.  Oft have I found that, after examining a temporal gear, witnessing a rift, or uncovering some forgotten mechanism, my understanding seemeth to deepen beyond what reason alone would permit.

The increase is not of knowledge merely, but of perception. Matters once obscure become clearer.  Patterns previously hidden reveal themselves. Devices whose workings appeared wholly mysterious now yield hints of their purpose.

I recall one expedition deep beneath the earth, where Master Ghaelen and I ventured into caverns untouched by the sun. There we concealed ourselves amongst broken stone and ancient ruins, observing a host of temporal locusts as they wandered through the darkness.  For many hours the Master spake little, attending instead to their motions and strange interactions.  At length he espied one creature, shattered and inert upon the cavern floor, its mechanism broken by some unseen struggle.  With patient hand and tools of his own devising, he repaired the creature's damaged works, replacing fractured components and restoring the flow of temporal energies within.  To my astonishment, the locust stirred once more and rose obediently at his command.  Thereafter it accompanied us through the depths, warning us of dangers and harrying the twisted creatures of lore that sought our harm.  That day I learned that the Clockmaker's art extendeth beyond mere understanding; it granteth mastery over the forgotten engines of an age long passed.

Curiously, repeated observations of the selfsame phenomenon grant diminishing returns.  The first discovery of a temporal anomaly filleth the mind with revelation, yet the hundredth viewing imparteth but little. It would seem that Insight flourisheth most readily when confronted with novelty, and withereth when fed only repetition.

I therefore advance the following hypothesis: that Insight is the measure by which the mind attuneth itself to the hidden harmonies of temporal mechanics.  If this be true, then the accumulation of Insight may permit the Clockmaker to perceive truths and possibilities forever concealed from ordinary folk.

Further experimentation shall be required.

Spoiler!

The candles had long since burned low, and yet Master Ghaelen and I remained wakeful within our laboratory.  Scrolls and journals lay scattered across every table, their margins crowded with diagrams, calculations, and observations gathered over many years of study.  The night had been spent in vigorous discourse concerning the nature of the Rust Realm, that strange and dreadful reflection of our own world.

"What if," said the Master, leaning over a cluttered workbench, "the Rust Realm be not a place apart, but rather our world brought unto its final conclusion?  A realm wherein all things succumb unto decay, and the order of Jonas hath utterly failed?"

I offered several objections, whereupon he countered each with equal enthusiasm.  Thus passed many hours in debate and speculation, until at length Master Ghaelen cast aside his quill and rubbed at weary eyes.

"We have labored enough for one night," quoth he.  "Go thou unto the tavern and procure for us some stew and ale.  Even philosophers must need sustenance."

Gladly did I accept the errand, for my mind had become clouded by study and my limbs stiff from sitting.  Drawing my cloak about me, I departed the laboratory and made my way through the sleeping village.

The tavern remained lively despite the lateness of the hour.  Warm light spilled from its windows, and the smell of roasted meat greeted me before I had crossed the threshold.  Within, I exchanged pleasantries with the innkeeper and, whilst awaiting our meal, spent some moments in cheerful conversation with the barmaid, whose wit proved nearly as sharp as her smile. She laughed at some jest of mine, though whether from genuine amusement or simple kindness I could not tell.

"Come to purchase supper, Master Scholar?" quoth she.  "Or hast thou merely grown weary of conversing with dusty books?"

"I fear the books provide better company than most folk," said I.

"A cruel accusation," she replied. "And yet thou continuest to return hither; You knoweth nothing!"

"Only because thy stew is unmatched in all the village."

"And here I had thought it was my smile."

At this she folded her arms and regarded me with a look of feigned disappointment.

"Then I must improve the stew."

"Nay," said I.  "The stew would be impossible to improve."

The maid laughed openly at this, though whether she laughed at my compliment or at my poor attempt to disguise it, I could not discern.

At length the stew was prepared and the ale drawn. Having paid the innkeeper his due, I gathered our supper and turned to depart when I spied a woodsman and his fellows at a table drinking their ale and contemplating several rusty gears he had discovered whilst foraging in the forest.  The villagers regarded the objects with little more than curiosity, but I felt an immediate and irresistible compulsion to draw nearer.

The gears were ancient, their teeth worn by age and stained with rust. By all appearances they were worthless scraps of forgotten machinery.

And yet they were not.

The moment my gaze settled upon them, a strange sensation overtook me. The world about me seemed to fade, and my thoughts turned inward. It was as though some hidden door within my mind had been opened.  Concepts that had lingered half-formed during years of study suddenly aligned themselves into patterns of startling clarity.  For a fleeting moment I perceived the gears not as broken relics, but as fragments of some greater design.

At last, mindful of the stew cooling in my hands and of Master Ghaelen awaiting my return, I forced myself to look away.  The effort felt akin to waking from a dream.

Slowly I resumed my journey toward the laboratory.

Yet all the while my thoughts remained fixed upon those humble gears.

How could such simple objects impart such profound understanding?  Why did the works of Jonas awaken knowledge dormant within the mind?  And what connection bound these fragments of ancient machinery to the Rust Realm we sought so diligently to comprehend?

By the time I reached the laboratory door, I scarcely remembered carrying the stew at all.  Master Ghaelen looked up from his notes as I entered.

"Ah," said he. "Thou hast returned."

"I have, Master," I replied.

Yet even as I set the food upon the table, my thoughts lingered upon those rusty gears and the mysteries they had revealed.  

And though I knew it not then, that night's encounter marked the first true awakening of what Master Ghaelen would later name: Insight.

Spoiler!

Another memory returneth unto me as I set these observations to parchment.

Some years past, Master Ghaelen and I walked amongst the stalls of a bustling bazaar.  Merchants from distant settlements had gathered there, displaying wares both common and curious.  Most offered little of interest to students of temporal mechanics, yet the Master possessed an uncanny talent for discovering treasures where others perceived only junk.

At one stall we encountered a peddler who dealt in relics recovered from ancient ruins.  He claimed they had been gathered from the remains of some forgotten house devoted to the care of the sick and infirm.  Rusted instruments, cracked vessels, faded records, and other remnants of a bygone age lay scattered across his table.  Amidst this clutter rested a weathered blueprint bearing the seal of Maela the Empathetic.  The merchant explained that it contained instructions for the preparation of medicinal salves, allowing horsetail poultices to heal wounds with greater efficacy.

Such matters ordinarily lay beyond the scope of our studies, and I paid the blueprint little mind.  Yet as I reached forth and touched the parchment, a brilliant flash filled my vision.

For a brief instant I perceived something beyond the blueprint itself.  Countless connections seemed to unfold before me.  The careful observations of Maela.  The experiments that had refined her craft.  The generations of healers who had built upon her discoveries.  It was as though the accumulated knowledge of many lifetimes had brushed against my thoughts.

Then the vision vanished.

I staggered backward, nearly dropping the document.

Master Ghaelen observed me closely.

"What didst thou see?" he asked.

I struggled to describe the experience, but my words failed me. The sensation had been less like learning something new and more like remembering a truth I had always known.  The Master's eyes narrowed with interest.  Without hesitation he purchased the blueprint.

Upon our return to the laboratory, we set ourselves to reproducing Maela's work.  The village healers were ever in need of remedies, and thus we spent many evenings preparing enhanced horsetail salves according to the ancient instructions.

Curiously, whenever I consulted the blueprint or employed its teachings in the preparation of the medicine, I would experience those same flashes once more.

At first they were vivid and overwhelming, nearly as powerful as my initial encounter.  Hidden relationships and subtle details seemed to reveal themselves with startling clarity.

Yet with every repetition the visions grew fainter:

The second proved less potent than the first.

The tenth less than the second.

The hundredth scarce more than the memory of a dream.

Even now, after the passing of many years, I do sometimes perceive the faintest glimmer when preparing such remedies.  It is but a fleeting stirring of the mind, like the last spark within a dying hearth.  The revelation endureth still, yet hath become so subtle that another man might pass it by entirely.

 

Spoiler!

As of version 0.0.3, there's no point in installing this mod unless you want to follow its progress or help steer the mod development with input and ideas (I'm hopeless with textures and graphics).  I've been working on the Insight system: as of yet, there are no "benefits" from gaining Insight (and why bother gaining Insight if there are no perks?).  I'll be working on the rewards/achievements later.  Progress is expected to be slowish since I'm learning the API as I go along.

The point of this mod isn't to buff to debuff something.  It's to add content to what I perceive is the weakest aspect of the game: the classes.  XSkills is awesome, and one of my favorite mods (it's one of my "always" mods) yet it's not class-based, and doesn't provide lore.  The whole point of _this_ mod is making the Clockmaker class come alive as a unique academic pursuit and lore.  Clockmakers are researchers, academics, professors of natural philosophy and temporal mechanics.

There will be no documentation for this mod at all.  Not one word.  Everything there is to know about this mod will be conveyed through story, parable, and poem.  If you download a pre-release version of this mod, you'll see debug/chat messages meant for me to help debug and evaluate my code.  These are spoilers!  You are not meant to see any of this - it will ruin the "research" aspect of the mod!  So don't look!