Diary Of A Madman Somewhere in the steam punk world... 1st February 1786, 3rd Era, Year of the steam Entry 341 Dear diary Today as I was taking my morning stroll through the field, it was unusually misty, at the foot of a lone oak tree, devoured by vines I stumbled upon a cotton bag containing a jumble of cogs, pistons, springs and whatnot. Amongst these parts was a peculiar scroll. From past experience I know that things can slip away from you when you grasp them so I wasted no time and made my way hastily back the the workshop, breaking into an excited run. The bag I have stored out of the reach of the unenlightened behind several intricate locks of my own handiwork. I've spent the last three hours gazing out of my cloudy window into the meadow in pondering what the blazes this could all be about, but the windmill has proven distracting. I confuse myself as to why I still run my windmill as I haven't produced bread in over 10 years. Perhaps I should sleep on the matter and set to work on assembling the machinery in the morrow. Will be continued as soon as possible!